The Swan King

by Nina Clare

  She blanched, stopping dead in her tracks. ‘You saw?’ Her voice emptied of anger. She felt only embarrassment that she had been seen that night.

  ‘I would never kiss you,’ he said fiercely.

  That seemed an odd thing to say.

  ‘Why not?’

  He did not answer. His usually amiable expression was aglow with fierce emotion, and she had to admit that he looked quite handsome with his jaw squared and his eyes flashing. But she would rather have him as he usually was. She had grown to like his easy-going calmness.

  ‘You go that way,’ he said, not looking her in the eye; he pointed to the left. ‘I’ll follow the lakeside path this way. If I find them, I’ll give a long whistle three times.’

  ‘And if I find them?’

  ‘I’ll catch you up. You won’t be going as fast as me with the aunts.’

  He strode off and she stood for a moment watching him. She told herself she didn’t care that he didn’t like her anymore. What did she expect? A real friendship? If Paul’s example with the king was anything to go by, real friendship was a rare thing indeed. And it couldn’t be true about Gretel. That had been a low thing to say. It couldn’t be true. Could it…?

  She must have walked as fast as Herr Haller, for they met again coming in the opposite direction. Between them, on a shallow pebbled beach were the aunts. Princess Sibylle stood with her gown lifted almost to her knees, presumably that she might not dirty her hem, while Princess Marie was at the water’s edge, her hands cupped about her mouth, making a strange sound across the water.

  ‘Your Highnesses,’ Elisabeth called out, ‘we have been looking everywhere for you!’

  ‘They won’t come,’ said Princess Marie. She turned and there were tears in her eyes.

  ‘Who won’t come?’

  ‘The guardians. We want them to take us home. Why won’t they come?’

  ‘We know they’re near,’ Princess Sibylle sang out. ‘We can feel them in the smell of lilies.’

  ‘We’ve been forgotten,’ said Princess Marie sadly. ‘No one wants us. We can’t go home. Outcasts. Castaways. Strangers. No one loves us. No one understands. We are all alone. All alone. Alone.’

  Elisabeth felt strangely moved by Princess Marie’s words.

  ‘You know how it feels, don’t you?’ Princess Marie said, stretching out her arms towards her in a pathetic pose.

  Elisabeth felt tears welling up. Then she caught Herr Haller watching, and blinked them away. ‘We must go back to the castle now, Princesses,’ she said, her voice not as firm as she wanted. ‘Can you walk so far, or shall Herr Haller go for a pair of ponies?’

  ‘Can he get a boat?’ Princess Sibylle asked brightly.

  ‘A boat would not reach the castle, Your Highness,’ replied Herr Haller. ‘Ponies are an excellent idea. I shall hurry back for them.’

  ‘We can walk,’ Princess Marie said. ‘Come, Little Sister. They will not come today. Perhaps tomorrow.’

  ‘Perhaps tonight, Sister,’ answered Princess Sibylle. ‘When the moon is over the lake.’

  ‘Oh yes, they love the moon!’

  ‘There is no moon tonight, Your Highnesses,’ Herr Haller said. He walked at the side of Princess Marie, while Elisabeth brought up the rear behind Princess Sibylle, who walked carefully, mindful of any overhanging tree branch that might touch her. They made a slow party wending their way back along the path.

  ‘No moon? What have they done with it?’ cried Princess Sibylle.

  ‘It is a new moon tonight.’

  ‘New moon, blue moon, old moon, full moon,’ sang Princess Sibylle. She kept up the song all the way back; only Elisabeth heard the birds in the trees trilling the very same tune.

  Chapter 29

  Shadows

  ‘Darling Sophia!’ The queen mother stretched out her hands to the vision in lavender silk who came gliding across the parquet floor. Princess Sophia was so lovely, so sophisticated, Elisabeth felt like a scullery maid in comparison.

  ‘Your Highness, dearest Euphemia,’ gushed the beautiful princess kissing the queen mother’s cheeks.

  ‘Come and tell me all the news, Sophia. How glad I am to see someone normal in this place. Fräulein Schwan,’ said the queen mother, ‘come and meet my young cousin, Princess Sophia, she is passing through on a visit from Hesse.’

  Elisabeth moved nearer to curtsey and exchange polite greetings. The Princess’s beautiful eyes passed quickly over Elisabeth in her simple gown with her simple pinned-up braids, and though she smiled graciously, Elisabeth felt that she was immediately dismissed as being of no one of rank or much interest. Elisabeth returned to the aunts in the windowed alcove, as the princess sank gracefully down upon a chair by the queen mother.

  ‘Let me smell her,’ Princess Marie said, moving to leave the table they sat round.

  ‘We must finish our flowers, Your Highness,’ Elisabeth said, putting a hand on her arm to restrain her. ‘Her Highness may not wish to be touched. Or smelled.’

  ‘She’s so pretty,’ sang Princess Sibylle. Their table was strewn with the wild flowers they had gathered in the meadow that morning. Now they were making up little posies. Elisabeth was quite proud of her initiative in keeping the princesses out of mischief.

  ‘She’s as fair as an alpenrose,’ sighed Princess Marie. ‘But not as fair as she.’

  ‘Oh no,’ agreed Sibylle. ‘No one is as fair as she.’

  ‘Make her a posy,’ Elisabeth suggested, diverting Princess Marie from her attempts to leave the table.

  ‘A posy of alpenroseys!’ Princess Sibylle chanted.

  ‘Why are your aunts here?’ Elisabeth heard the princess ask in her piping clear voice.

  ‘Oh, darling Sophia, I have had a dreadful time of things. I had to dismiss their keeper, first she let them get at my finches, and then she lost them a whole day. They were found sitting on the great lion statue in the public square. How they got up there is a mystery, they claim they flew, but, Sophia, there was such a crowd! It was dreadfully vulgar. I could not find another keeper before I came away, so I brought them with me. Mayer is interviewing new ones, I had a telegram to say she will send one on in two days.’

  ‘But it looks as though you have found a new keeper here,’ said the princess. Elisabeth shifted uncomfortably on her chair, disliking being talked of as though she were not there, even if she were out of view behind the alcove wall.

  ‘She is a guest of Ludwig’s,’ said the queen mother. She lowered her voice, but not low enough not to be heard. ‘She fell from her horse and injured her head, and now she cannot recall who she is. The Chief Inspector is investigating, but no one has reported a missing young woman in the kingdom, so we think she may not be from Bayern. But it is all to be kept secret.’

  ‘Oh,’ said the princess, leaning forward and dropping her voice even lower, but still not low enough. ‘I think I have heard something of her. Is she the mistress?’

  ‘Whose mistress?’ said the queen mother sharply.

  Elisabeth was finding it hard to sit still, hearing herself talked of. She wanted to leave the room, but she could not abandon the aunts. Princess Sibylle touched her hand with the stem of an orchid and smiled sweetly up at her. ‘They do not see us,’ she said and gave a little giggle.

  ‘Baronin von Puttkarmerreinhart says she is Paul’s,’ continued Princess Sophia. ‘The gossips say the king’s, but I do not believe them.’

  ‘Monstrous idea!’ exclaimed the queen mother. ‘Scandalous! Ludwig is above such vulgarity. He is not like his grandfather.’

  ‘Indeed, he is not.’ The princess laughed merrily. ‘My dear Euphemia, let us not dwell on the turpitude of court gossip, we are in the lovely mountains now, away from all that. Let me tell you all the pleasant news.’

  ‘Please do, Sophia. I need cheering up. Everything is so out of sorts here.’

  ‘Out of sorts? Is Ludwig well? I have not seen him for such a long time. Of course, I know all about the incident at the emperor’s fea
st.’

  ‘Oh, do not speak of the emperor’s feast, I beg you! Such a dreadful evening, and everything has gone badly since. The emperor has still not forgiven him. Ludwig sees no one these days. All he cares about is his new castle.’

  ‘I have heard it is being built at an astonishing speed.’

  ‘He says he is moving in at the end of the week.’ The queen mother gave a little groan.

  ‘So soon? And while you are here?’

  ‘He wants to get away from me, Sophia. What have I done to deserve such treatment?’ She groaned again and her lady-in-waiting moved to her couch to dab cologne on her temples.

  ‘You have done nothing to deserve it, Euphemia. You are the most attentive and affectionate of mothers. Has Ludwig resumed his duties?’

  ‘No. I fear he has not. Every day telegrams and letters arrive, and Ludwig barely reads any of them. He leaves Paul to pass everything on to Niklaus, who speaks with Schamberger.’

  ‘To Prince Niklaus? Why him? Surely Pfiffermeister is the only mediator between Ludwig and the prime minister?’

  ‘Niklaus has been making himself most helpful. But it is all dreadful, Sophia. Why will not Ludwig do as his father did?’

  ‘Remember how young he is. He just needs a little time to grow into his duties. Once he has got this castle project finished, he will be fine, I am sure of it. But is Prince Niklaus the best person to be taking up such authority?’

  ‘He is weak and vulgar you mean, Sophia.’

  ‘I do not wish to call your brother-in-law anything harsh.’

  ‘Call him what you like, Sophia. I have never liked him.’

  ‘So why is Ludwig giving him such power?’

  The queen mother lifted her hands in a gesture of despair. ‘Exactly! I ask him that myself.’

  ‘And what does he say?’

  ‘He says that a city of warmongering pettifoggers deserves such a man to lead them.’

  ‘Oh dear, it really is worse than I had realised. Is he losing his senses?’ There was a pause. Elisabeth knew exactly what she was thinking: was the king becoming as mad as his great-aunts?

  The queen mother gave another little groan and her lady-in-waiting hurried forward to administer more cologne.

  ‘Perhaps I could speak to him,’ said Princess Sophia. ‘I am terribly fond of Ludwig, I think of him quite as a brother. I could call again on my way home.’

  ‘Do come back and speak to him, Sophia, darling, do!’

  ‘I hear Pfiffermeister is retiring from office soon. His replacement is a former captain and said to be very efficient. Perhaps he could liaise with Paul instead of Prince Niklaus.’

  ‘Is the new Pfiffermeister a pleasant man?’ asked the queen mother. ‘I have not yet met him, and I hear differing accounts of him.’

  ‘I have not met him either, but my brother has, he is wild to have one of his famous horses. And I know he is a great favourite of Lady von Pless, not that that is much of a commendation. But there are unpleasant rumours regarding his late wife.’

  ‘So I have heard. But what did you hear?’

  ‘It is said he was unkind to her, but it may not be true. What is his name…? Wolff…Wulff…Wuelffen. Count von Wuelffen. He has a very good estate in the south, I understand, with famous stables, Schloss Dragenberg.’

  Elisabeth froze with an orchid held mid-air. The room seemed to expand then contract in a dizzying lurch. She could not say why, only that the name of Wuelffen made her feel suddenly ill.

  ‘I have not heard of him,’ replied the queen mother. Her voice seemed small and far away.

  ‘I will invite him to Poffenhoffen before I leave Bayern,’ said the princess. ‘I will find out where his loyalties lie. If he will be faithful to Ludwig then you can gather him into the fold as an ally, can you not? Now on to more interesting things—what do you think the Countess of Landersfeld wore to the ballet the other night?’

  ‘Elsa? Did you hear me? Elsa?’

  Elisabeth was jolted out of her thoughts and blinked up at the face of the prince. ‘You have been elsewhere,’ he said. ‘Have you heard anything of what I have been saying?’

  ‘Sorry,’ she murmured, putting down the uneaten breakfast roll. Paul had found her breakfasting alone that morning. ‘You were talking of His Majesty’s plans to remove to the castle tomorrow.’

  ‘I was asking you if you would care to inspect the room that has been made ready for you at the new castle? I am sorry you have to remove there. If you find the idea disagreeable, I will speak to the king.’

  ‘Why would you be sorry?’

  Paul raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow. ‘Surely you cannot wish to be immured up there in that uncanny fabrication? No one will ever see you, save the mountain dwarves and the ghost of Gundelfinger who is said to appear every moonlit night to hasten, or hinder, the work, depending on which story you listen to.’ He gave a wry smile.

  ‘I shall go up there directly,’ she said. A solitary drive was exactly what she needed. She’d had little time alone since the arrival of the aunts, and her nightmares had been particularly bad the night before, leaving her anxious and troubled.

  ‘You take it very well. I thought it would displease you,’ he said.

  ‘Not at all. Quite the opposite. I like it there.’

  ‘You do? You have peculiar tastes. As does Haller, he seems to like it too. I will accompany you,’ he added as she stood up to leave.

  ‘No thank you,’ she said firmly. ‘I don’t require a chaperone. I’m sure you have more important things to do this morning.’

  ‘I see you are still angry with me.’

  ‘I’m not angry. But I am confused about many things at the moment, and I need to be alone this morning.’ She paused. ‘Do you know of a man of the name of Wuelffen? I believe he is a count.’

  Paul suddenly paled. ‘Where did you hear of him?’ he asked quickly.

  ‘The queen mother and her guest were speaking of him.’

  ‘And you recognised his name? You remembered his name?’

  ‘I don’t know if it was a remembrance. I just know that I felt very strange when I heard it. It may be nothing.’

  She looked more closely at Paul. ‘Do you know him?’

  ‘I…er…have heard of him. I understand he is being considered for a senior position in the government.’

  Elisabeth wondered at Paul’s reaction. But she was so tired from her nightmare-troubled night that she had not the energy to press him. She left him looking as uneasy as herself.

  The progress on the new castle was astonishing. Elisabeth could see the gleam of white turrets peering above the dark firs above her as the road wound upwards.

  She stopped the carriage the last mile of the steep path, and got out, saying she would walk the rest of the way.

  Autumn was well advanced now, but the walk made her warm enough to throw back the hood of her cloak. Dark firs were a wall either side of the path, but in places she glimpsed the lake below. The morning light fell softly on the golden crocuses nodding in the earth.

  Golden crocuses she thought, standing still a moment to admire a cluster. They did not belong here. They belonged to springtime. And they were so large and so very golden. The closer to the castle she got, the thicker and brighter the flowers grew, until great gold swathes of them stretched away into the forest—and the smell! She did not think crocuses had much of a scent, but these certainly did. Another scent wafted towards her, she had reached the outer wall of the castle, and clambering freely around its base was a riot of jasmine. Was she imagining things, or did new tendrils stretch out and little white buds form even as she watched? She laughed, delighted with the audacity of the little flowers, they had no business to be flowering in profusion in this place at this time of the year.

  The thick presence of the castle now swirled about her, enveloping her in another world, far from the cares and concerns of the one below. She welcomed it. Here she was lifted up above her heavy feelings—the anxiety of her situation, th
e confusion and the feelings of betrayal she felt over Paul, the loss of Herr Haller’s friendship, the fear of what the future held. Here was comfort and escape. No wonder the king wanted to be nowhere else.

  The gatehouse was almost complete. The courtyard was still busy with workers; the four corner towers had not risen far above their foundations, but the central hall stood proudly as the castle’s heart. Limed walls glowed as pearl, turret roofs the colour of the blue mountains beyond soared high, glass windows within tall, elegant arches caught the sun and glittered. The sawing and hammering were rhythmic instruments accompanying the workers’ song. Their deep voices rebounded from the castle walls, the air was alive with music and rhythm and a pulsing, living force that made her feel as though anything was possible, anything could happen.

  She climbed the grand staircase of the central hall, her eye following the tree-like columns, rising up to a vaulted ceiling of deepest blue, with countless gold stars adorning it. Life-size swans perched proudly on newels and greeted her on the final step.

  She stood in the doorway of the king’s chambers, watching the construction of the king’s bed of carved oak. The intricate carvings of swans and flowers were as detailed and beautiful as that of her pendant. An enormous golden chandelier, shaped as a crown, hung from the ceiling. Mirrors and candelabras and glossy polished wood caught and threw back the light from the windows. The window and bed curtains were patterned with embroidered silver swans. Everything felt alive.

  After viewing the few rooms that were completed, she returned to the courtyard and castle grounds.

  The feeling of otherworldly power was stronger when she walked on the ground, as though something invisible seeped from the mountain rock beneath, charging the air. It was heady and a little frightening. Whatever it was, it was not tame. There was beauty, but not softness. It was not a friendly power, but if she was respectful, it would not harm her; that was what she felt as she stood watching the activity of the mountain folk working away, singing in deep voices.

  She saw a man at work, beneath a constructed shelter, chiselling away at a block of oak. Out of the wood emerged the shape of a heraldic swan, four times the size of a real one, with a crown about its neck. She put a hand to her own carved swan and felt a small pulsing sensation pass through her fingers. A score of men worked under the carver’s direction, and the site was filled with woodwork, ready to be set in place.