Delphine and the Silver Needle

by Alyssa Moon

  “Thank you, Lord Perrault de . . . um . . . Soucy,” she said. “Please lead the way.” She gestured and then fell in step behind him, keeping her paws folded firmly around her basket handle, away from his grasp.

  Lord Alexander de Soucy Perrault led Delphine through the winding hallways and staircases of the mouse castle. She could see how cunningly the passages and rooms had been built into the walls of the human castle, just like the passages inside the halls of Château Desjardins. As they walked, the lord plied her with anecdotes of his bravery, cutting ripostes, and knowledge of romantic poetry. At least he pointed out some interesting sights, but she wished he would walk at a quicker pace. It had to be nearly noon.

  “Those stairs lead to the bell tower of the castle,” Lord Perrault said, gesturing to a winding staircase. “That is where the astrologers chart the fortunes of the noblemice.” Then he smiled winningly. “The lead astrologer is a vole of great age and wisdom, and I am in her good graces. Perhaps one day I shall introduce you to her for your own fortune to be read.”

  Delphine wasn’t sure how to respond. “How kind,” she finally said.

  They passed the mouse bakery, with its ovens built into the bricks of a human chimney. “The cold cooks are all in the rear kitchens,” Lord Perrault explained, “along with all the grain preparation. The baked goods are prepared here and then brought to the main kitchen to be assembled.” That seemed exceedingly confusing to Delphine, but everything about the castle was starting to make her head spin. It was a maze of passages, all leading up, down, and sideways.

  As they crossed through one main intersection, she paused before an ominous-looking arch in the wall with guards posted on either side. “What’s that?”

  Lord Perrault stopped and glanced back. “The entrance to the Forbidden Wing,” he said. “It was abandoned over a century ago, after the War to End All Wars. Not much to see there. Now, shouldn’t we be hurrying?”

  Delphine nearly laughed at his question. Of course they should be hurrying. But she merely nodded.

  “Now, up ahead,” he continued, “you’ll see my favorite painting of our first king and queen, rest their paws and whiskers.” He paused next to a small painting on a disk of ivory. “I like to think that I resemble His Royal Highness in the snout and ears.” He puffed out his chest and turned his head sideways.

  She glanced briefly at the painting and then continued a few steps onward, hoping she could encourage him to hurry without causing offense. “Fascinating, Lord Perrault de Soucy,” she called back to him.

  “There’s no need to be so formal!” He raced to catch up with her. “Call me Alexander, I beseech you.”

  She nodded. Court manners were entirely foreign to her, but that certainly was less of a mouthful.

  Alexander launched into another tale of single-handedly fending off a whole band of hawkworms that had been plotting to overtake the castle gardens. “I parried as if driven by lightning!” he cried, dancing to and fro in the hallway as he acted out the fight.

  She groaned inwardly. Given how clean and perfect Alexander’s garments were, she could guess that he spent much more of his time inside, playing cards with his lordly friends, than outdoors in any gardens or stopping unwanted invasions.

  The hallway made a gentle curve and then another.

  Will we ever reach the princess’s quarters? Delphine wondered.

  Another lord mouse came toward them, his golden velvet slippers flopping fashionably at the heels. He bowed low to Alexander, who bowed even lower in return. Then he glanced sideways at Delphine.

  “Lord Ponceroy de Clairemonde Villeneuve, charmed to make your acquaintance,” he drawled obsequiously. He turned back to Alexander. “Listen, you old gnat, we’re going down to the village tonight for some, ah . . .” He gazed at Delphine again and then turned his snout away, mouthing the word cards to Alexander under his breath. “Coming along? Clarenton says he’ll provide common togs again for us to wear.” He dabbed at his brow with a gold-embroidered handkerchief, an obvious affectation.

  Alexander’s whiskers had the grace to twitch at the reference to “common togs” in front of Delphine. “Can’t,” he said. “I have rather more important plans.” He bowed low, then took Delphine’s elbow and steered her around Lord Ponceroy de Clairemonde.

  “Adieu!” Ponceroy called snidely from behind them. “And to you, kind lady whomever-you-are!” Then she could hear him traipsing on down the corridor, his slippers flapping against the ground once more.

  Delphine snuck a glance at Alexander. “You go to the village?”

  “What? No! Well, ah, sometimes.” He actually seemed at a loss for words, the first time since they’d met. But in a split second, he had already regained his composure. “ ’Tis an enjoyable way to make merry with the everyday folk of the kingdom,” he said suavely.

  Cleverly answered, thought Delphine. But it sounded a lot to her as if the nobles played at being poor, just for fun. Life in the castle wasn’t what she had expected at all.

  Alexander continued babbling as they walked. Only when he stopped midsentence did she realize they were standing before a set of grand stone doors, covered with delicate carvings of snowdrops. A guard was positioned on either side of the doors, their spears crossed.

  “Oh. Well, would you look at that? We’re here!” He pulled off his cap with a grand swoosh. “My lady?”

  She grimaced, then realized too late he had interpreted this as an enthusiastic smile.

  “I shall await your return!” he said delightedly.

  “No need,” she blurted. “I’m sure the guards here can summon another escort. I wouldn’t want for you to waste your valuable time waiting, good sir.”

  But Alexander dismissed the idea with a flick of his wrist. “Absurd. I shall be here, looking forward to further time spent in your charming presence.” He turned and sauntered away to the end of the hall, his cape tossed back over his shoulder with a little too much care to be accidental.

  One guard pulled back his spear and thrust out a paw. Of course—the card. Delphine pulled it out again, and the guard examined it, staring closely at the royal seal. The other guard kept her spear firmly across the door, eyeballing Delphine through the slit in her gleaming iron helmet.

  “Wait here.” The first guard disappeared through the doors, leaving Delphine standing awkwardly in the hallway. She gazed down at her dress, away from the other guard’s piercing stare. What would she say to the princess?

  “I’m a seamstress,” she whispered. She almost choked on the word.

  Princess Petits-Oiseaux has invited me here for a reason, she reminded herself.

  She squared her shoulders firmly. “I’m a seamstress,” she whispered again, this time with a little more confidence. She squeezed her paws together.

  Someone cleared their throat, and Delphine glanced up with a start. The guard had lifted her visor. “You may enter now,” she announced. Then she gazed at Delphine more gently. “The princess is very kind,” she said. “You have nothing to fear.”

  And at that, the double doors swung inward.

  An exquisite antechamber stretched before Delphine, filled with more beautiful objects than she had ever seen. Velvet sofas, damask curtains, candle-lamps, petite chaises, a harpsichord, a sparkling vase overflowing with white flowers. Delphine struggled to take it all in. The entire opposite wall was made of windows that overlooked the castle’s formal garden. From up here, it looked like a grand forest of hedges.

  A young pawmaid gestured through a doorway. “This way, mademoiselle.”

  Delphine approached. Through the doorway lay another room, even larger and more elegant than the first. And in the center, admiring herself in a full-length looking glass made of a jewel-encrusted human hand mirror, stood Princess Petits-Oiseaux. A huge pet bumblebee hovered lazily alongside her on a spiderweb leash.

  At the sight of Delphine, the princess squeaked with joy. “Oh! The seamstress!” Princess Petits-Oiseaux handed the bumblebee’s le
ash to a nearby pawmaid. “Ysabeau, be a dear and take Bearnois to his perch.” Then she sashayed across the room with delicate steps, despite her massive skirts. “You’re here! How delightful! And right on time!” Her wig swayed, minuscule figures of angels dangling precariously from the curls. She laughed gaily. “You shall make me the most fantastic gown!”

  Before Delphine could think of how to respond, or how to express her gratitude at being invited to the castle, Princess Petits-Oiseaux continued unabated. “You know, I am quite tired of these old things.” She gestured languorously at a heap of gowns lying over a nearby sofa. “Nothing new. Nothing fresh. Nothing . . . fantastique!” The princess laughed again, sounding like the tinkling of a bell. Her perfectly waxed whiskers arched gently, and Delphine noticed the curlicue whisker right away.

  The princess, Delphine could see, had a fashion style all her own. Her long neck was set off by a high collar at the back of her bodice, while the front dipped sharply into a frothy ruffle of gold lace. Her panniers jutted out from either side of her waist, making her skirts so wide that Delphine doubted she could have touched either side with paws outstretched. A quirky mixture of sparkling jewels fought for the place of honor around her neck.

  “Forget about all of this,” the princess commanded, waving at her own garments. “I summoned you because I saw your fantastically unusual gown on Lady Roselle Beaux-Neiges. I should love for you to sew an even more fantastic gown for me.” The princess sank onto a sofa like a flower delicately landing on water. Her pawmaids bustled around her, arranging her skirts and bringing her a clear, round globe. Delphine watched in fascination as the princess tipped it to her lips, drinking delicately.

  “Rose water,” the princess explained. Then she gestured at one of the pawmaids. “Ysabeau, darling, bring our guest a goblet of her own.”

  Ysabeau traipsed brightly across the rug to where a massive rose petal was sitting on a wide table, half-filled with water. She dipped another globe into the water, then presented it to Delphine, who realized it was a human bead, cunningly sealed at one end. The water tasted exactly how Cinderella’s roses smelled when they first opened. Heavenly.

  “Now.” The princess patted her paw imperiously on the sofa, barely able to reach over her right pannier to do so. “Let me tell you about this ball. Whenever the human royals choose to throw a party, we do as well. And why not? They provide the music, the food, the entertainment . . . All we have to do is head to the ballroom we’ve constructed inside their chandelier, and enjoy.”

  Delphine perched on the sofa next to the princess, trying desperately to look as if any of this made sense to her. She nodded vigorously.

  “The next ball is to be at dusk in one week’s time—alongside the human prince’s ball. I wish to wear something fantastical, something unlike anything that has been seen before.”

  Delphine’s mind was racing. A ball at dusk . . . the stillness of twilight, and the arrival of evening. The sky coming to rest as the stars begin to show themselves.

  The stars . . .

  Delphine let out a little squeak of excitement, then clapped her paw over her mouth, mortified. Her manners!

  But the princess leaned forward eagerly across the sofa. “Yes? Yes, my darling? Do tell!”

  Delphine’s eyes sparkled. She could feel the fizzy delight of a wonderful idea already rushing through her blood. “A gown that transforms you into . . . the First Star of the Evening Sky,” she said raptly.

  Princess Petits-Oiseaux fell back on the sofa with a look of shock on her face, eyes squeezed shut. Her pawmaids all gasped in unison and pulled out tiny fans, ready to spring into action if the princess were to faint.

  What did I say? The bottom dropped out of Delphine’s

  stomach.

  Then the princess’s eyes snapped open, and she sat bolt upright. “I love it!” she squealed, clasping her paws together. “It’s merveilleuse! It’s brilliant! It’s new!”

  The pawmaids all sighed in relief, tucking their fans back into their own small panniers.

  “Oh, I’m so glad, Your Royal Highness!” cried Delphine.

  The princess leaned forward with curiosity. “How do you imagine it will look?”

  Delphine began to describe her vision, slowly at first, then with growing confidence. The princess nodded enthusiastically as Delphine spoke.

  When she had finished, Princess Petits-Oiseaux clapped her paws together. “Perfection!” She sprang up from the sofa. “I shall await your return, with the gown.”

  Delphine’s heart sang. She couldn’t wait to get back to her workshop and begin on the design.

  “Stop by our fabric storerooms! Take whatever you need!” said the princess. “They have my measurements as well! Farewell, my sweet seamstress.” And just like that, the meeting with the princess was over. She hadn’t even needed her measuring tape!

  Delphine was in heaven as she waltzed out of the princess’s chambers. She was so much in her own world, in fact, that she didn’t even see Alexander stepping in front of her for another deep bow before it was too late. She ran straight into him with a squeak of surprise.

  “Oh!” Delphine blushed right up to the tips of her ears. Her very first visit to the castle, and she had already managed to knock over one of the lords, albeit a pompous one.

  He pulled himself upright, shaking out his cloak and grinning at her. It looked like a genuinely amused smile for a moment, and she felt a little less embarrassed, but it was so quickly replaced by a carefully composed suaveness that she almost doubted she had seen it. “My lady.” He made another deep bow. “I have awaited you so that I may have the pleasure of escorting you back to the main hall, or to wherever you are next headed.”

  Delphine stifled a sigh, but said as sweetly as she could, “I’m going to the storerooms. The fabric and trim storerooms.” She gritted her teeth thinking of how many more tales of his derring-do she would have to endure as he escorted her.

  Alexander’s eyes were suddenly bright. “Are you a seamstress?”

  “Uh . . . yes?”

  He started swiftly down the hall. “Come, my lady!” he entreated with an honest enthusiasm she’d not heard from him before. “I must show you a great secret of the castle! I’ve never shown a soul, but you . . . you should see this!”

  Delphine’s curiosity was piqued, despite herself. She knew she should be gathering supplies. But she couldn’t resist the temptation of a secret.

  She followed Alexander through the corridors until they reached the open archway that she had seen before. It was just as dark and foreboding on the other side.

  “Through here,” said Alexander nonchalantly.

  Delphine hesitated. “But I thought you said that was the Forbidden Wing.”

  “We’ll be fine.” He slipped each of the guards a few gold pieces and quickly escorted Delphine through.

  On the other side of the archway, her eyes adjusted quickly to the dim light. She could see a long, narrow bridge extending across a pitch-black crevasse. She had no idea how deep it was, and she didn’t want to find out. The bridge itself looked incredibly rickety, as if it had been purposely made of the thinnest wooden scraps that the architects could find. She could barely see the far end of the bridge, it stretched so far into the darkness.

  Suddenly, a flicker of light caught her eye. Alexander stepped out blithely onto the bridge, carrying one of the torches that had been resting in wall sconces next to the guards. He beckoned for her to follow.

  “Is this bridge safe?” Delphine couldn’t help but ask, stepping onto it with great trepidation. The narrow strips of wood felt like they were buckling beneath her.

  “Oh yes,” he said in a jaunty tone, striding forward into the dark. “It’s perfectly safe for mice. It was constructed that way intentionally, after the wing was abandoned.” His voice echoed back and forth between the crevasse walls, and he stopped talking abruptly.

  When they finally reached the other side of the bridge, Delphine found herself in a
human-size hallway, though it was clear no one had lived there for centuries. Dust lay thick on every surface. The fashions in the giant paintings were hundreds of years old. The air itself felt heavy with silence, broken only by the odd ominous rustle. “I thought you said this was part of the mouse castle,” she whispered to Alexander.

  “This part was walled off by the humans long, long ago. We’re just passing through it now on the way to our real destination. After the War to End All Wars, drawing the boundary at this hallway seemed like the natural solution. The rats had always spent more time over here than the mice, it’s said, so they were banished to this side and the mice were assured safety once again.”

  Delphine stopped dead in her tracks. “Rats?”

  He turned to glance back at her. “Oh yes, the rats. That’s why it’s called the Forbidden Wing. And that’s why the bridge was built with such delicacy—it can bear the weight of mice, but not of rats. Very clever, those engineers of yore.”

  Delphine was standing extremely still. “So there are rats in here?”

  “Certainly.” He shrugged coolly. “But the treaty takes care of that. They don’t bother us, and we don’t bother them. Besides, if the rats don’t see us, we’ll be perfectly safe.” He saw the look on her face. “I myself roam here from time to time. It’s a bit of a lark among the nobles, really. We dare one another to scamper through the Forbidden Wing, usually reciting poetry as loudly as possible.”

  It sounded like the sort of silly hijinks that she and her friends had engaged in when they were much younger. But she bit her tongue.

  “And . . . why exactly are we safe?” she asked instead.

  “Because of this.” He pulled back his cloak and revealed a sword resting in a sheath at his side. The sheath was made of richly tooled leather with the crest of the castle on the main panel, and precious gems were inset along the pommel of the sword. “I always have my trusty blade at hand.”

  Delphine was not convinced. It had been drilled into her since birth that rats were some of the most dangerous creatures in the kingdom.