“Truly? The Mouse King’s scouts?” Her eyes were wide as she took in the sight of us more closely. Perhaps now she was just noticing the blood of the mice on the Nutcracker’s jacket.
“It’s important for us to prepare the castle for any sort of invasion,” he insisted.
“But I don’t understand,” she replied. “We haven’t had any sort of altercations . . . nothing to indicate any sort of threat from the King.”
“We met him at Clara’s house,” he said. “I fought him, and it was only because of Clara that I managed to get away. As we rode through the forest today, we were attacked once again. This time, by three mice. Two were killed, but the other…” The Nutcracker paused and looked to me.
“We were both lucky to get away.” His whisper sent another shiver through me. We could have easily died if it hadn’t been for the both of us.
“It sounds quite perilous,” Irina responded. “I have to insist that you both retire to your rooms for a while. Take a rest, freshen up. And then we can discuss the matter over dinner.” Lady Irina took the Nutcracker’s hands and squeezed them gently. I watched as she pressed a kiss against his cheek and smiled.
“Everything will be alright, your highness. I promise. We can discuss everything with the council.”
I resisted the urge to tell her not to make promises she couldn’t keep. They weren’t hers to make. The Mouse King wanted the Nutcracker dead. He wanted him to fail. There was nothing Lady Irina could do. It was all up to me.
It was me who had to free the Nutcracker with my love. It was me who had to help defeat the Mouse King.
But I felt it was not my place to speak against a woman in Nutcracker’s court.
“Thank you, Lady Irina.” Nutcracker tipped his head and then looked to me. “Come, Clara. I’ll show you to your room.”
I acquiesced.
Nutcracker and Irina led the way, up the staircase and through the decorated hallways. The walls were lined with large, grand paintings of men and women dressed in regal outfits. They were set in beautiful scenes with grand landscapes of fields and seas. Around each window and doorway, golden molding gleamed in the candlelight.
As we traveled through each corridor, I was amazed by the grandeur of the palace. Everything was white marble and gold. As my gaze turned to the passing courtiers, I noticed they were all dressed differently from one another. Many of their costumes would never be acceptable in my mother’s home. A few of the women were dressed in silky pants and a simple piece of fabric covering their chests, while others wore flowing gowns that resembled flower petals.
“I’ll place you in the same wing as his highness,” Lady Irina said warmly. She lifted her hand to gesture to the two doors. “I’ll be sure to have fresh clothes brought up to the both of you. If you need anything more, Lady Clara, you only need to ask.”
She gave a nod and a curtsy to the Nutcracker before turning on her heel. She left the two of us in front of our bedroom doors. Mine was a large, oak door with little carvings of flowers and sugar plum candies. I bit my bottom lip and turned my gaze to him.
“You look almost fearful to go inside,” he said with a chuckle. “I promise, Clara, nothing will harm you here.”
I knew what he spoke was the truth. I knew I would be safe here, unless the Mouse King found a way inside; like he had in our parlor at home. It was only a matter of time, I knew, before the rodent king and his subjects came for the Nutcracker.
For now, though, we were safe.
The real question lingered in my mind as I turned my gaze back to where Lady Irina had been. Who was she? She held herself with such elegance and grace. She reminded me of a queen.
“Who is she?” I asked, tucking an unruly strand of my hair behind my ear. I felt a twinge of jealousy bubble up as I waited for his answer. The Nutcracker let out a huff of a laugh as he took a step toward the door of my bedroom. Turning the doorknob, he opened the door and gestured for me to go inside.
“Do you recall me mentioning the daughter of the lord and lady of Sugarland? Lady Irina? She helps in tending to the castle and the duty of the lands while I’m away.”
So she was the woman the Nutcracker had spoken of. Lady Irina. I was struck by the memory of the Nutcracker explaining who the lord and lady of Sugarland were, and their daughter. She was truly, breathtakingly beautiful.
“You must trust in her, for her to look after the palace when you’re gone.”
“I do,” he replied with a quick nod.
“You believe she’ll be well-informed of the mice and their dealings with Winter Dream?”
“I hope she will be,” he said as he jerked his chin toward my door again.
“You should go in and rest for a bit before dinner.”
“All I’ve done is rest,” I whispered, shaking my head. “I’m not tired.”
My head felt too full of too many things. How would I ever begin to rest after all that happened this morning? The mere thought of the mice with their wide, red mouths sent a tremble down my spine. Despite how exhausted I might have felt, I doubted my body would give me the peace I needed to sleep.
“The circles under your eyes say otherwise,” he murmured warmly, taking my hand.
Though I had been with him for nearly two days, the strange feeling of his hand continued to startle me. His touch served as a reminder that the familiarity between man and woman was different here than at home, and that he was enchanted. While he was wooden, his fingers were smooth to the touch.
We entered a large room, decorated with walls of minty green. Along the far side of the room, a bed was built into the wall. A chair sat in the adjacent corner next to a table adorned with gilded leaves. A few paintings hung on the walls, depicting scenes of springtime and courtiers.
I brushed my fingers over the green walls, taking in the beauty of the room. It was grander than my own, more than I could ever hope. Masha would have been envious—positively green—if she could have seen my private quarters. Not even Lord Andrei could have gifted her such a room. I felt confident in that fact, and perhaps even a little smug. I buried those thoughts quickly. It did not do to dwell on things so trivial, especially when there were more pressing issues at hand.
Yet everything here seemed so magical and wonderful. I didn’t understand how anything evil could lurk just outside of its walls. What I had seen of Winter Dream had been pure and utterly perfect.
“You can wash up here,” he said softly, crossing the room to a table where a basin of water waited.
My eyes drifted to where he stood and slowly moved to him. I watched as he lifted one of the soft cloths and dipped a corner of it into the cool water. Brushing over my cheek, he began to clean my skin of the dried mouse blood. His blue eyes bore into mine as he tilted my chin slightly, being thorough in his washing. I had never had anyone take such care with me.
“And you,” I said quickly, grabbing the cloth from his hand and carefully guiding his blood-stained hands into the water. The smoothness of his wooden skin was easy to wash. When we were done with his hands, I lifted the cloth to his cheek and neck and washed away what was left of the scouts. His hand slid over mine, pressing my palm to his cheek.
“Thank you, Clara,” he said, his voice was rich and smooth.
“You’re welcome,” I replied with a shaky nod. Despite his hands being made of wood, they were warm and gentle, and somehow, strangely familiar.
“Your hands are so soft,” he murmured as he carefully moved my hand from his cheek. He stared at it, his thumb brushing over the tops of my fingers. “You’ve done so much in bringing us here. You’ve saved the both us several times. I am grateful to these hands...”
Gently, he released me from his grasp, taking the cloth from between my fingers. He dropped it into the remaining, pink-stained water, and gestured toward the bed behind me. The Nutcracker crossed the room until he stopped by the side of the bed and drew away the corner of the ivory-colored coverlet.
“I’ll be sure to have someon
e come wake you for dinner,” he said as he patted the uncovered space.
“And you? Where will you go?”
Lifting his hand, he pointed to the door just beside the bed. “That door leads to my room. I’ll be close by,” he said reassuringly.
“Is it silly that I’m afraid of seeing one of those mice in here?” I asked as I strolled to where he stood. The corner of his lips rose into a comforting smile.
“It’s not silly. But we’ve warned the castle. The mice would be mad to make any attempt of attack without a plan. Nothing will harm you here.”
“Yet,” I added as I wrapped my arms around myself.
He raised an amused brow. “Would you prefer for me to stay with you?”
My cheeks burned at the thought, and I quickly shook my head. The circumstances had been different at Mother Ginger’s inn; there had been no other rooms for us to take. But now, with a palace full of many bedrooms, there was no reason for him to stay in my room.
His stiff finger brushed a lock of hair behind my ear as he smiled.
“I’ll stay until you fall asleep,” he murmured softly.
His words satisfied the small part of me that feared the Mouse King and his army. With a curt nod, I slid my feet from the boots I had been given and climbed onto the bed. I tugged the blankets up around me and watched as he unhooked his belt. He let his sword fall to the floor. I raised my brow curiously as I sat up.
“Do you mean to lay beside me?”
“Would that be alright? After sleeping on the floor all night, I’d quite like to avoid another.”
If Mama were here. . .
Everything that I had been taught—all the rules and lessons of womanly etiquette screamed at me—urged me to insist on the Nutcracker leaving. But the warmth in his eyes was what I most desired. I didn’t wish to be alone. Mama was not here. And I was left to make my own decisions.
“Don’t forget your boots,” I said softly, sliding back into the large pillows behind me.
The Nutcracker sat on the side of the bed with a chuckle and tugged his long, black boots from his feet. I lowered my head to the soft pillow and instantly felt the exhaustion of the day’s events wash over me. We were no longer scurrying away from terrifying mice, with their blood-red eyes, or their sharp, pointed teeth. We were safe, warm . . . together.
He laid back on top of the blanket and turned to face me. His eyes were gentle and tender as he gazed at me sleepily.
“I’ll leave once you’re asleep,” he promised softly.
“I don’t mind,” I said, surprising myself. I wondered if Masha had ever invited her Lord Andrei to her bed to sleep. The thought caused my cheeks to warm.
The Nutcracker chuckled against the fabric of the nearby pillow case. “Indeed.”
Carefully, he tucked the blankets around my shoulders more closely and brushed a curl from my cheek. Once again, I was struck with the strange familiarity we shared with one another; we were seamless.
“There is so much I still want to know,” I said with a yawn. “There is so much about Winter Dream and the spell that I don’t understand. And Uncle Drosselmeyer. . . ”
“There will be time for your questions,” he whispered as he eased closer. As I closed my eyes, I was almost sure I felt his rough lips leave a soft kiss against my forehead.
“I’ll tell you everything. Sleep, Clara.”
Chapter 15
The glow of the sunset streamed brightly into the room when I opened my eyes later that evening. I found that I was alone; the only trace of the Nutcracker’s presence was the crease he had left in the pillow beside me. Long, silk curtains had been drawn from the windows, which meant that someone had come to wake me.
After sliding my fingers over the smooth bed sheets, I pushed myself up onto my elbows. My body ached, rebelling against every part of me that stretched or moved. I groaned, though I was well-rested, and my stomach grumbled. I longed for a meal, and as the decadent scent of warm, sweet bread filled the room, I only felt hungrier.
I forced my feet to the floor and yawned loudly.
Just as Irina promised, a new gown had been laid out for me, along with my shoes from Mother Ginger. I ran my fingers across the fabric when a short, slim woman wearing a cream-colored gown entered the room, carrying a serving tray. Her hair was bright gold, pinned down into several small curls.
“Good evening,” she said with a smile. “I’ve just come to wake you!”
“Oh!” I replied, surprised. The Nutcracker had said he’d be sure to have someone wake me for dinner. The woman nodded as she set the tray down onto a small side table.
“I’ve brought a few things to eat, too,” she explained, gesturing to the enormous arrangement. “Dinner can be a little. . . untimely. And I thought it would be safe to bring you something before you made your way to the dining room.”
I scooted to the side of the bed, taking in the sight of pastries filled with different fruit compotes. Steam rolled from the porcelain tea cup.
She turned to me with a smile. “Can I get you anything else?”
I slid my feet to the ground and adjusted the wrinkles in the dress I had fallen asleep in. Lotte had been the one to adjust the ties of the dress; I wondered if I would need the maid’s help or if I’d be able to adjust it myself. She must have seen the apparent debate written on the creases of my forehead, for she walked toward me with a small laugh.
“Let me help you,” she said, touching my elbow lightly.
I brushed my hair over my shoulder and turned, biting my bottom lip.
“My name is Marzipan.”
I paused, turning to only look at her from over my shoulder. “Marzipan? Like the sweet?”
Again, she giggled and began to undo the laces of my wrinkled gown. “I know. How very strange for me to be named after a dessert.” She pulled at the strings. “And you are called Clara. Or do you prefer Lady Clara?” she asked.
“Clara,” I said quickly. “Just Clara will do.”
“Just so, then, Clara,” Marzipan replied with a chuckle as she helped me to step out of the soft, pink dress. After she folded it and left it on the side of the bed, she lifted the new gown that had been laid out and brought it to me.
“Arms up!” she said with a smile as she shifted the new white gown over my head.
“How did you come to working in the palace?” I asked as I pushed my arms through the sleeves. It was gorgeous—splendidly crafted by a talented tailor. I could see the detail had been given as much love as the structure of the dress. Small flecks of pink and gold on the glittered in the sunlight, twinkling as I shifted the skirt.
“I’m from the Flora Fallal,” Marzipan replied as she wrinkled her brow, as if she were thinking how to respond to my question. “And after my mum and pop disappeared, I was left with little choice. I could have stayed, I suppose. But there isn’t much for one to do in Flora Fallal. So I came to the capital with my brother, and found myself in a position here in the palace.”
“What happened to your parents?”
Her face fell slightly, and I instantly regretted asking her such a personal question. I shouldn’t have been so impolite.
“We all fade with time. Some light can burn brighter than others, and some. . . longer. But my parents. . . it was their time to move on from this world and enter the next.”
“The next?”
“To return to what we’re made of.” I felt Marzipan tie the last bit of my dress.
That’s right. They were created of emotions; human emotions. Joy and love.
I gave an acknowledging nod as I whispered, “I’m sorry.”
I couldn’t imagine losing a parent, let alone two. There had been a time when I was certain Masha would lose her mother. During a harsh winter, Masha’s mother had fallen ill with the blue death. Masha had been sent to stay with me and my family for a period of time. She had been so hopeful that her mother would live, she went to the church every day to pray for her. While my parents were certain she would
die, as so many in Russia were from the disease, Masha’s mother recovered. It had been another month or so until she had regained her strength again.
Still, the scare was enough for all of us to be grateful for our health.
“‘Tis alright,” Marzipan said softly. “It’s just the way of things. The same will happen to me, as it does to us all. But I do have my brother, Macaron. He’s a guard here at the palace.”
“I have a brother, too,” I said with a small smile. “His name is Fritz.”
“A much better name than Macaron,” she teased. “For my brother is far from being sweet.”
I couldn’t resist laughing. “Aren’t all brothers?”
She turned back toward the tray with a chuckle and lifted the steaming cup of tea and brought it to me. Taking it with shaking hands, I looked to her inquisitively.
“Do you know where the Nutcracker is?”
“I believe his highness is getting ready for the evening meal, too,” she explained, gesturing to the door across the room. The door that adjoined both of our rooms. My cheeks warmed slightly. Marzipan didn’t seem to notice as she continued, “Rumtopf had a tray prepared for the two of you.”
“Rumtopf?” I asked curiously.
“Yes, Rumtopf. He’s the cook.”
I took a long, overdue sip of my hot tea. It tasted sweet and minty, warm and comforting. It was strange just how delicious it truly was. I had never tasted anything like it.
“Are you all named after sweets?”
“Well, some of us, yes,” Marzipan replied, her cheeks turning red. “Hyacinth is in charge of all the gardens. Kuchen is in charge of all the duties around the castle. Lemon and Caramel tend to clean from time to time.”
“Lemon and Caramel?”
“Yes,” she replied, almost impatiently as she clicked her tongue. “Stollen goes about lighting all the fires and candles in the castle. Hazelnut tends to Lady Irina, and Nougat will look after the prince.”
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