The Swan King

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by Nina Clare


  ‘I wish I could communicate my sorrow to them,’ said the king, ‘for failing to protect them.’

  ‘I wish I could have protected them also.’

  ‘Do they speak any new message? I listen, but I hear only the same thing repeated.’

  ‘Nothing new, sir. There is only the same message regarding the raising of the castle, and of finding what was lost.’

  ‘That is what I hear. I searched throughout the palace treasury, looking for something carved of green gemstone, but I only found jewellery. And it is not jewellery that is sought.’

  ‘No,’ she agreed. ‘It is not jewellery. It is something large enough to be held, but I cannot see what it is. I will keep asking.’

  ‘And I must begin building. There is an urgency, is there not? A power that grows stronger.’ He looked toward the mountain, which was hazy and hidden.

  Elisabeth shivered, and wrapped her arms about herself. She too felt the urgency and awakening power, but what did it all portend?

  ‘A mountain lake on a summer’s day is glorious, is it not?’

  Paul’s voice startled Elisabeth out of her reverie. It seemed she could not rest at the lakeside at any time that day without someone finding her.

  ‘Where do your thoughts take you, Fräulein Schwan? Or to whom do your thoughts take you?’

  He sat down beside her on the grassy bank. He was so close she could feel the warmth radiating from him.

  ‘Beautiful.’ He sighed. He was looking at her. ‘I have travelled to many places and seen many landscapes, but none can match sitting beside a Bayern lakeside.’

  ‘Nothing can match sitting beside a Bayern lakeside alone,’ she said, trying to cover her discomfort at his nearness. She had been deep in thought of the king and his inner turmoil, and she had not forgotten Paul’s behaviour at the palace the previous day.

  ‘I will leave if you wish.’ He actually sounded hurt, and she looked at him. His deep brown eyes were far too easy to gaze into. ‘I thought we were friends.’

  ‘I thought the same,’ she replied. ‘But If we are such good friends, tell me what you and your companions were laughing at when you saw me yesterday.’

  He looked puzzled, and then his face cleared. ‘My sweet girl, we were not laughing at you. I am ashamed to admit we were laughing at the mad aunts.’

  ‘That was not kind. They are to be pitied, not laughed at.’

  He was silent for a moment. ‘You are right,’ he admitted. ‘What a good heart you have, as well as a lovely everything else.’ He took up her hand and kissed it. ‘Are we friends again?’

  It was impossible not to melt at his warm smile. He took her softened look as an assent.

  ‘May I call you Elsa?’ he asked. ‘When we are alone. Fräulein Schwan is so formal, and we have known each other for some time now.’

  ‘Twenty-two days,’ she replied.

  He grinned. ‘You have been counting.’

  ‘I have been counting how long it has been since I arrived, and wondering how long it will be before I remember who I am.’

  ‘I never got the chance to arrange a meeting between you and the Chief Inspector,’ Paul said. ‘I did not expect to be dragged away from München so soon.’

  ‘I suppose it will be the talk of the city,’ Elisabeth said, ‘the king leaving as he did.’

  ‘I fear it will be worse than mere talk.’ The prince said with a shake of his head. He plucked up a daisy and twirled it between his fingers. ‘It is a very serious political debacle. I don’t know how things will fall out now.’

  They were silent a while, looking out at the view, Elisabeth felt the gravity of the king’s situation with the emperor, but Paul, it seemed, could not remain serious for long.

  ‘You fit in perfectly in this landscape, Elsa,’ he said, his playful tone returning. ‘The mysterious Swan Maiden who appears at the royal castle. Where she has come from, no one knows. Is she of this world, or has she stepped out of Faerie? Has she come to enchant and bewitch the handsome prince who finds her?’

  ‘No good ever came to a prince who succumbed to the enchantments of Faerie, is that not what the stories say?’ she replied.

  ‘And they are true,’ he said with mock tragedy. ‘For my heart is haunted by unattainable beauty—I am bewitched.’

  ‘You obviously read too many fairy tales, sir.’

  ‘Call me Paul. I promise to leave you in peace if you say it just once.’ He had not let go of her hand. He locked his fingers tightly about hers. ‘Say it, Elsa, my Faerie queen.’

  ‘Very well, Paul.’

  He laughed, released her hand and jumped to his feet. ‘Farewell for now, beautiful lady of the lake. Sadly, for me—duties call.’ He presented her with the plucked daisy, he bowed, he smiled, then was gone. She turned her head to look after him; he likewise turned and waved.

  A black swan neared the bank and looked at her.

  ‘I know,’ she said to it. ‘I’m being foolish. My life is problematic enough without letting my head be turned by a man, even if he is the most handsome prince in all the kingdom.’ She sighed.

  The swan gave a little honk, as if to say, turn your head, is exactly what you just did.

  When she saw the prince later that day his smiles were gone.

  A visitor had arrived; Elisabeth, hearing the bustle of someone being announced moved to leave the drawing room where she sat alone. From the hallway she heard Paul telling somebody that the king was not receiving anyone.

  ‘I am not here to see the king,’ replied a woman’s voice. A few minutes later Paul burst through the doorway, looking dismayed at seeing Elisabeth, as though he’d hoped she would not be there.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ she asked.

  ‘Is this her?’ said a female voice, almost pushing past Paul to enter the room.

  Paul spoke with reluctance. ‘Fräulein Schwan,’ he said, may I introduce to you Lady von Pless.’

  Elisabeth curtsied, noting that the visitor was a fashionable lady of around thirty or so years, and a wealthy woman, if her gown and jewellery were a true indication.

  Lady von Pless swept in and took a seat on the edge of a settee. ‘Please sit down,’ she said to Elisabeth, patting the seat beside her and smiling, though not with her eyes. ‘Let me look at you.’

  Elisabeth took a seat opposite, wondering at the woman’s familiarity, and thinking that she had heard her voice before somewhere.

  ‘Paul, darling,’ said Lady von Pless, ‘find me a glass of wine. Tea will not do after my long journey. I have heard there is a special little stash of bottles from Epernay in the cellars.’

  Paul hesitated, and glanced at Elisabeth as though trying to communicate something to her, but she did not know what it was, only that he was not happy at leaving her alone with this woman. He exited the room. Lady von Pless watched him go, then turned to Elisabeth.

  ‘Fräulein Schwan, I have heard of your romantic tale.’

  ‘I would hardly call it romantic. Perhaps you have not heard correctly.’

  ‘Then you must tell me.’

  Elisabeth was silent. Something about this woman made her uncomfortable. She had no desire to tell her anything. She wracked her mind to recall where she had heard her voice. Was she someone from her past? Surely not, for Lady Pless did not act as though she knew her.

  ‘Is it true that you know nothing of who you are and where you came from?’

  ‘That is true. But how do you know of it?’

  ‘Oh, I hear everything. It is near impossible to keep a secret in the court. One just has to cultivate discourse with the the right servants. But you really do not remember anything?’

  Elisabeth did not answer. Lady von Pless examined her face intently, either to judge whether or not she spoke the truth, or to memorise her features.

  ‘And what do you do here?’ Lady von Pless asked, leaning forward and curving her lips into another smile that did not reach her eyes.

  ‘Do?’ Elisabeth repeated.

 
‘I heard the king had picked up a girl with a mysterious provenance, but I did not get to see you at the palace. You were not at the feast, were you?’

  ‘Picked up?’ Elisabeth repeated her words again, surprised at such a crude expression from this grand lady.

  ‘Aren’t you his amour? Don’t look so shocked. It would be a good thing for him to have a mistress. It would bring him out of his shell. We all think so. Usually the first one is an older, more experienced woman. And usually married. Are you married?’

  ‘No. At least…I don’t believe so. But I am no one’s mistress,’ she added fiercely.

  Lady von Pless gave a little laugh. ‘Why so angry? Everyone at court has lovers. What a naive little thing you are. Perhaps that is your charm. Ah,’ she said knowingly, leaning back and narrowing her eyes. ‘If you are not the paramour of the king, then you must be that of his aide-de-camp, am I right?’

  Elisabeth glowered at her. ‘I told you, I am no one’s mistress.’

  ‘But you cannot resist Paul. No girl can. What a trail of broken hearts and reputations lie strewn across the kingdom in his wake.’

  Elisabeth was about to get up and leave the room, but Paul now reappeared, his tall figure filling the doorway.

  ‘Ah, you delightful man,’ exclaimed Lady von Pless on seeing him usher in the butler bearing wine and glasses. ‘So obliging, as always.’ Elisabeth caught the quick, knowing look that passed between them.

  ‘I have just been asking Fräulein Schwan what her position is in the king’s entourage,’ Lady von Pless said, turning her head to Elisabeth, while her body remained turned towards the prince. ‘Everyone is talking of it.’

  ‘It is none of their business,’ Elisabeth said coldly.

  ‘My dear, the king’s business is everybody’s business. He belongs to the people. They want to know everything he does. Everything.’

  ‘Fräulein Schwan is a guest,’ said Paul. ‘She is under His Majesty’s protection.’

  ‘Is that so?’ said Lady von Pless. ‘Protection from whom?’ she spoke lightly, but her eyes were sharp. Paul did not answer, he dismissed the butler and busied himself with pouring the wine.

  ‘Thank you, darling,’ she said, taking the glass he held out. Her voice dropped to a soft purr. ‘Do you remember, that night in Bergen, when we drank champagne until dawn?’

  Elisabeth watched the prince’s reaction closely. He caught her eye and looked partly irritated, partly disconcerted.

  ‘That was a most interesting evening,’ he said politely. ‘Now you must tell us the news, Lady von Pless. What has been happening in München since yesterday’s fiasco? What are they all saying?’

  ‘What do you think they are saying? They are in uproar. To have walked out as he did, on the emperor of all people, who is such a stickler for protocol and manners. You cannot imagine how angry he has made everyone.’

  ‘I can well imagine,’ said Paul gravely.

  ‘The queen mother spent half the night trying to soothe the emperor and make excuses for the king’s rudeness.’

  ‘What excuses did she give?’

  ‘She said he was ill. A nervous collapse. That he’d been overwhelmed with the levity of hosting such a man as the emperor. She claimed it was his youth and his deep grief for his father, and so on.’

  ‘He will not like it to be said that he is ill from nerves,’ said Paul.

  ‘Better it is said that he’s ill with grief for his father than mad with grief for a swan, for that is what they are whispering. And then there is that hedonistic dandy who seems to have our young king in his silk-lined pocket, he has not done the king’s reputation any good.’ She gave a short laugh. ‘What peculiar company the king keeps these days. Yourself excluded, Your Highness.’

  ‘Herr Weimann is working on an architectural project for His Majesty,’ Paul replied. ‘He does not have the king in his pocket, I assure you.’

  ‘Oh, really? Herr Weimann could not show his face in München, nay in the kingdom, this past year, for he had debtors after him in every city. Now he parades through the streets in his new carriage, holding parties at his fine mansion every night. Do you know he has had a fountain installed in his hall that flows with champagne? And he has a whole bottle of Persian Otto poured into his daily bath. A whole bottle! Ten gulden each they cost.’

  ‘Rumours,’ said Paul dismissively.

  ‘I have drunk from the fountain myself. He drips with jewels, he minces about in a new suit every day, he has six cooks. And who is paying for all this? That is what people are asking. He was bankrupt, now he lives like a grand duke. People are not happy. They say he has hypnotised our young king. They hiss at him when he comes into the theatre. They throw stones at his carriage as he drives by.’

  ‘Yet they still go to his parties every night,’ said Paul. ‘Yourself included.’

  She lifted a shoulder coquettishly. ‘Of course. He may be the most despised man in München, but he does gather about him the best musicians and artists. He is a reprehensible parasite, but he is interesting.’

  Elisabeth suddenly remembered where she had heard Lady von Pless’s voice. ‘You were at the royal theatre recently,’ Elisabeth said abruptly. ‘The night the king reopened it.’

  ‘Certainly, I was. Why do you ask?’ She sipped at her glass.

  ‘May I ask who escorted you there? I forget his name.’

  ‘A friend,’ she replied.

  Elisabeth was not certain how far she could press Lady von Pless, but Paul understood, and took up her query.

  ‘Which friend was that, my lady?’ he asked.

  ‘I have many friends,’ said Lady von Pless lightly. ‘I cannot quite recall which one it was that night.’ She put her glass down quickly. ‘And now I must go,’ she said, standing up and deftly shaking out her skirts. ‘Do be a darling, and see me to my carriage, Paul.’

  Elisabeth stood up to make the customary curtsey. Lady von Pless gave her one last look of scrutiny, sweeping her humourless eyes from the top of Elisabeth’s head to the hem of her gown, then she left, sashaying out on Paul’s arm.

  Elisabeth followed them out a few moments later; she stood on the balcony, overlooking the castle entrance hall, watching them descend the stairs.

  ‘I don’t care what you think, darling,’ Lady von Pless’s voice floated upwards, as she carefully picked her way down the steps, lifting her gown a little to keep from tripping on it. ‘There’s plenty more girls for you. It’s not as if you’ve ever settled on one for long, is it? She’s as good as married, and you will fare badly if you get in his way. Very badly.’

  Elisabeth strained to hear Paul’s reply, but they had moved too far away. His voice sounded angry, and not like himself at all. She waited for him to return. When he did his face was taut, the usual glow dimmed.

  ‘Who is she, and what does she know of me?’ Elisabeth demanded, when he reached the top of the stairs.

  He looked around, as though making sure no one was listening, then ushered her into the drawing room and closed the door.

  ‘Well?’

  He ran his hand through his hair and paced the length of the room before coming to stand before her. The look in his eyes alarmed her.

  ‘That woman was sent to look at you.’

  ‘That was very obvious, but who is she? What is her connection to me?’

  ‘I don’t know what her connection to you is. As to who she is, she is a very wealthy widow who moves in, let’s say somewhat salacious company at times.’

  ‘But she was here on someone’s behalf?’

  ‘Most certainly,’ said Paul.

  ‘The man at the theatre—she was here on his behalf, wasn’t she? I saw her with him, at least, I heard her voice, I did not see their faces.’

  ‘That is my suspicion.’

  ‘You were going to find out who he was.’

  ‘I am trying. I have a list drawn up of all the men that I know to have been present that night. Herr Weimann is expected tomorrow, I will ask him whic
h of the men entered his box with Lady von Pless that evening.’

  ‘Do you have any clue?’ she pressed. ‘You seem to know that woman rather well. Quite intimately, in fact.’ She tried to keep her voice even; she had no right to be jealous of his past, after all.

  ‘Don’t listen to any of her poison, Elsa.’

  ‘But do you have no clue as to who might have sent her here? Don’t you know who she is close to?’

  ‘Only to most of the powerful men in the kingdom,’ said Paul dryly. ‘She changes her friends quite regularly. There are any number of men she could be intriguing with.’

  Elisabeth wrapped her arms about herself, feeling that her recurring nightmare was now seeping into her waking world. Paul saw her look and moved nearer to put his arms about her. She let her head rest against his chest. He felt strong and safe. Then she remembered that woman’s words as she walked down the stairs. She pulled away again to speak.

  ‘What did she mean, when she said that I was as good as married?’

  ‘I don’t know, Elsa. Whoever it is that is looking for you, seems to think he has a right to you.’ He gave a wry smile. ‘I have been warned off.’

  ‘We must tell the Chief Inspector’ she said in a faltering voice.’

  ‘I agree. But we may be dealing with a very powerful man. We must tread carefully.’

  ‘We must tell the king. He is more powerful than this man, whoever he is.’

  ‘The king will certainly protect you. We will get to the bottom of this, Elsa. In the meantime, we must not let you out of our sight.’

  She stared at him in alarm. ‘In case he tries to kidnap me. Again.’

  He nodded. ‘It may be speculation, but we can’t take the risk. If he was involved in what happened to you, he is a dangerous man. I have my suspicions of who he may be, and I only hope I am wrong.’ Paul looked and sounded grim. ‘If I am right, it is a man who has men of power and authority as his associates. If that is so, only the king himself can protect you.’

  Chapter 22

 

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