I nearly choked on my drink by Marzipan’s honesty. As I pulled the cup away from my lips, I laughed and coughed.
“Oh, dear,” Marzipan said as she grabbed the cup from my hand and peered at me with concerned eyes. “Are you alright?”
“Yes, I’m fine.” As I pressed a hand against my chest and coughed once more, I nodded quickly. She set the drink down on the table and lifted an ornate gold box I hadn’t noticed beside the tray.
“Before I forget, his highness had these sent to your rooms this morning,” Marzipan said as she brought the box to me.
“What is it?” I asked curiously, peering at how intricate the golden carvings were; they reminded me of tiny, beautiful snowflakes. She lifted the lid carefully, revealing a diamond-encrusted tiara. Beside the tiara, a set of sparkling earrings to match. My eyes were wide as I glanced back to Marzipan.
“W-Why?”
“For the gala,” she explained with a sincere smile.
“I couldn’t,” I said, shaking my head as I pushed the lid closed. Marzipan smirked and pushed the lid back open again.
“Of course you can, Clara,” she said with a slight giggle. “You are, after all, going to be his princess.” She said it so matter-of-factly. As though there was no doubt in her mind that the Nutcracker and I—that I would break his spell. That I would love the Nutcracker.
Was his gift a sign of his growing affection? That he had grown to care about me so much so. . . he wanted me as his princess?
“And he sent these,” Marzipan said, lifting a new pair of silky pink slippers. Just like the ones Mother Ginger had given to me. I admired the smoothness as I took them from her grasp. Even a shiny, pink ribbon had been sewn on either side of the shoe. With a smile, I slipped them onto my feet and tied the ribbons around my ankles.
“They’re lovely,” Marzipan said as I rose to my feet.
I pointed my left toe and tapped it on the floor in front of me. I felt like a ballerina, gifted her finest shoes for her upcoming performance. And in a way, the gala would be a show. A pas de deux between myself and Nutcracker.
“It’s a very thoughtful gift,” I replied. “As I had first come to Winter Dream with only one slipper on my foot.”
“Only one?” she asked, peering at me curiously with a raised brow.
“I had thrown one at the Mouse King,” I explained.
Tapping her finger on her chin, Marzipan nodded. “Truly? You must think quick on your toes, then.”
I did not miss her underlying joke and could not help myself from laughing with her. She was not wrong. In the end, my slipper had distracted the Mouse King long enough for us to escape; it had saved us. It only felt right that I should have my slippers returned to me.
Marzipan settled and lifted the golden box, setting it back on the table.
“I suppose we should get you ready for the gala, then.”
“Already?” I asked, slightly alarmed. I had hoped to catch up with Nutcracker before tonight’s celebration. However long would it take to prepare me for such a feat?
“Of course!” Marzipan exclaimed with a laugh. “I intend to make you shine! You will be the loveliest of all the ladies tonight.”
“You really don’t—”
“I do,” she insisted. “Wait here; I know just the thing!”
Marzipan dashed from the room, leaving me alone to muddle in my own confusion. I walked to the side of the bed and sat down, placing my hands in my lap. In the few moments I had to myself, I began to revisit the dream I had with Uncle Drosselmeyer.
I would have all the answers I wanted, but only in due time. But how much time? How much time did I have left in Winter Dream? My eyes darted back to the golden box, where the diamond tiara awaited me. It seemed the Nutcracker didn’t expect for me to disappear. As I slid my gaze around the room, I admired how perfect everything appeared. It was like a dream come true, in many more ways than one. I would be made into a princess tonight, with a gorgeous gown and a sparkling tiara. Childhood fantasies could not compare to the reality of my life and where I had been taken.
My stomach clenched at the idea of having to leave it all behind—again.
“Here it is!” Marzipan said with a giggle as she raced back into the room. Her curls bobbed as she came to stand beside me.
In her arms laid a flowing, soft, golden gown. At the bottom of the tulle and satin skirt, the colors changed to a smooth pink. There were short sleeves that would come just to my elbows; over the bodice, where a small band of gold wrapped around the waist. The fabric met in the middle, shaping the top of the gown. The neckline plunged dramatically, which was more than I had ever worn in my life. I swallowed my fear of the thing—after all, it was just a dress. And the people in Winter Dream were accustomed to different fashions than those in Russia.
“Y-You would have me wear this?” I stared at the grand dress and licked my lip nervously.
“Of course! It’s perfect,” Marzipan said with a laugh. “After your bath.”
At least a bath sounded promising. Marzipan folded the gown over the side of my bed and moved toward the door, where servants were already lined up with buckets of steaming hot water. To my disappointment, it seemed the palace was not equipped with the standing shower Mother Ginger had.
The first lady to enter the room came dressed in a gown reminiscent of flower petals. She and another lady-in-waiting carried a large, copper basin, much like the one I had at home. As soon as it was on the floor beside the fireplace, the servants trailing behind her began to fill the basin with their steaming buckets of hot water. I had never seen such a fast procession before. It had only ever been Yana who tended to my baths.
After the servants had finished their task, Marzipan came to my side and helped to pull my nightgown away. I slid my foot into the tub, sighing as I sank deeper into the water. All my muscles relaxed in the warmth. I had not realized how very soothing a bath could be, especially when my muscles ached so painfully.
Marzipan’s hands were quick to move to my scalp as she carefully began to wash my long hair. I couldn’t remember the last time someone had taken such care with me. Yana merely gave me a bar of soap and left me to do the rest. It seemed odd to ever ask Yana to tend me further than the buckets of water she’d bring to my room.
I closed my eyes as Marzipan’s fingers massaged my head; the scents of peppermint and jasmine filled my nose.
“Thank you, Marzipan,” I said softly with a smile as I tilted my chin back. I heard her giggle as her fingers slid to my temples.
“Of course,” she replied. “I used to tend to my brother when my mum was preoccupied.”
“Really?”
She hummed her response as suds from the soap fell into my eyes. I wiped them away and peered over my shoulder to her.
“Are you and your brother close?”
“Well, I’d say yes. Macaron might disagree, but purely from embarrassment.” I couldn’t stop the smile from growing on my lips.
“And you, Lady Clara? Are you and your brother close?”
I snorted and shook my head quickly.
“Fritz is much younger than me, and. . . no, I can’t say that I am.”
I couldn’t explain why I hadn’t been close to Fritz. Of course, we got along when we needed to. At times when either of us were in trouble with Papa, the other would do something nice in return. Once, when Fritz had spilled ink in Papa’s ledger, ruining several pages, and after a long and firm lecture, I had brought Fritz one of Mama’s coveted chocolate tea cakes. On occasion, I had wished we were closer than we were. But Fritz was so vastly different from myself, and he was still too young yet to understand the world.
He was still a child, and I had grown up.
Marzipan rose to her feet after she had rinsed the suds from my hair and moved to the side of the tub, offering me a fluffy, warm linen. I wrapped it around myself and stepped from the warm water almost reluctantly. She must have seen my face, for she grinned as she guided me to the side of my b
ed.
“Don’t worry, Lady Clara. You can always request a bath whenever you prefer.”
Her fingers were quick as she wrapped a smaller sliver of linen around my hair, keeping the wet locks from my neck and back.
She lifted the new gown and smiled, raising a brow.
“The gala awaits,” she said with a laugh.
As the new gown was pulled up along my body, I felt the flutter of butterflies come to life in my stomach. In all the many fine gowns I possessed at home, I had never worn such a grand dress before. I couldn’t keep my hands from grazing over the soft, pink fabric. As Marzipan circled around me, she smiled even more.
“Now, the hair,” she said as she sat me down in a chair and carefully unwound my hair from the linen.
She was careful to untangle my wet locks, brushing and brushing my hair until it was smooth and dry. It surely felt like hours until she had managed to keep everything in place. Only when the ends of my hair were damp did she begin to pin tiny curls behind my shoulder with small combs. Each comb was adorned with tiny, silver diamonds. And then she began to paint a soft pink shade upon my lips, and lined my upper eyelid with a bit of black charcoal. The last touch was the diamond-encrusted tiara from the Nutcracker. As she slid it into place, I felt the air leave my lungs.
I felt so different, so grown up. Was this how Masha felt when she dressed in her party clothes?
“You’re a vision, Clara,” she said softly, stepping away.
“You think so?” I asked, sliding my hands down the skirt of the gown.
“Yes,” the Nutcracker’s voice filled the room, startling me. I slid my gaze to the adjoining door, where he was leaning against the wall. His blue eyes sparkled with awe as he watched me. He had changed from his traditional red suit to a royal blue one. Golden buttons glittered on either side of his suit. I found myself mesmerized by his handsomeness. Marzipan quickly curtsied to the Nutcracker and squeezed my hand.
“Enjoy the gala, Lady Clara,” Marzipan said as she turned toward the door.
Pressing a hand to the tiara on the crown of my head, I returned her well wishes with a smile and a nod. As soon as the door closed behind her, the Nutcracker crossed the room. Extending his hand out to me, he grinned.
“You look…” His words drifted into silence as his gaze roamed over the gown again.
“And you…” I said as I placed a hand on the blue suit.
Carefully, his hand moved and held mine against his chest. My cheeks warmed. He looked very much the part of a prince, despite the strange, wood-like texture of his skin.
“I heard you went scouting for mice,” I murmured as I gazed at him. “Did you find anything?”
“Nothing of great importance,” he admitted softly. “I’ve guaranteed our safety for tonight’s gala by having a soldier placed at every post.”
“Will that be enough?
The Nutcracker tucked a strand of hair behind my ear as he nodded. “It’ll have to be. At least for now.”
“And the sighting of the Mouse King? Was it true?” I needed to be reassured that we, and all the people of Winter Dream, would be safe. I bit my bottom lip as I waited for his response.
“There’s very little evidence to prove that it was him,” he replied.
My heart sank deep into my chest. Slowly, the Nutcracker interlaced his fingers with mine and gestured to the door with the slight turn of his chin. In what should have been shocking in my world, only brought a strange sort of comfort to me now.
“Everything will be alright,” he continued. I wanted to believe him, even just for the evening. He guided me to the doorway, only to pause as he smiled. There was a sparkle in his eye as he opened my door.
“Come. Come meet the people of Winter Dream.”
ACT III
Curses, Kisses & Mice Made of Lies
Chapter 20
I was astonished by all the many different courtiers, dressed in lavish, fanciful costumes. There were several women layered in gowns of silk and taffeta, reminding me of lavender tulips and bright yellow sunflowers; their colors were so vibrant. Others were dressed in crisp, sky blue suits with golden embroidery.
My favorites were the couples from the Sugarland Forest. Gowns of silver silk, glittering in the candlelight like stars and snow. As the Nutcracker and I descended to the last step, my gaze caught Lady Irina, who lingered just on the other side of the room. She was elegantly dressed in a gown of dripping silver. Across her shoulders hung a silver cape, which blended into a dress. Her hair was tightly pinned into a bun, and a gathering of golden leaves was pressed around it.
She reminded me of a Roman goddess, like the ones I had seen in paintings.
Many of the courtiers of the castle surrounded her, offering trays with glasses of bubbly wine, while others offered colorful sweets. I could not help but admire her ability to make those around her feel important or special. She knew how to work a room; the way she lifted her hand to them, the way she turned her body to nod to them. It was as though she were a queen of her own making.
“Lady Irina,” the Nutcracker called out, still grasping my hand tightly.
As we crossed the room, the large and welcoming crowd parted for us, making a clear path to her. She spotted us, and our eyes met. I felt her gaze slide to our joined hands with the same calculating look I’d seen cross her face at dinner.
The corner of her lips curled into a small smile as she lifted her chin in a gesture of greeting to me.
“Your highness,” she purred as we came closer, and bowed. “Lady Clara… Please, enjoy the gala. As this is our celebration of our prince’s return.”
I could feel the crowd watching me, heavy under their scrutiny. Perhaps Winter Dream was not unlike the nobility of Russia. I turned slight, catching their wide-eyed expressions and smiling, colorful faces.
“We’re all so pleased to have you back, your highness,” Lady Irina said as she came to stand in front of him.
Carefully, she leaned forward and pressed her lips against one cheek, and then the other. It was such a simple gesture of greeting; I had seen it thousands of times at home. But this. . . it felt different. Like a child with its toy, she seemed to be teasing me, laying claim to Nutcracker as if he were hers. A strange, hot twinge of jealousy coiled in my stomach.
“Would you share the first dance of the evening with me, your highness?” Lady Irina asked as she pushed her drink toward a nearby maid. The surprised maid nearly dropped the glass onto the floor. As she turned her attention back to the two of us, the Nutcracker tightened his grasp on my hand. He shook his head with a charmed smile.
“Lady Irina, while I’m honored by your invitation, I would like to share the first dance of the evening with Lady Clara. After all, she is my honored guest.”
“Oh, yes. . .” Lady Irina replied, feigning a smile. “Of course.”
The Nutcracker bowed slightly to Lady Irina before turning and guiding me toward the dance floor. I was too nervous to peer back over my shoulder to her. I could feel her hard stare from behind. I was certain that, if she could, she would have set us both aflame.
A soft melody began from the corner, where a small orchestra had been placed. A woman with a beautiful, blue dress sat by a piano, her fingers gently brushing over the keys as music filled the room. The atmosphere had been set with millions of candles, all flickering against the golden walls, making the room feel more magical than before. I had never seen such a thing in my life.
“It’s so beautiful,” I murmured softly as I darted a glance to the Nutcracker.
“You are,” he replied. I slid a hand to cover my warmed cheek.
Taking my hand, he chuckled. “I apologize; I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”
“You didn’t,” I said, sucking in a breath as he gently pulled me closer. He slid a hand to my waist while I lifted my own to the tip of his shoulder. He was so close—as though he were a mere breath away.
“I should warn you,” he said with a smile. “I have a ha
bit of stepping on others’ feet.”
He drew me closer still; our chests were nearly touching. My heart began to beat wildly. I remembered the words Anton had murmured to me in our long-ago, forgotten hallway, where the two of us had danced.
“Perhaps I’ll laugh if you do,” I whispered.
The Nutcracker sucked in a breath as his blue eyes grew wide. He squeezed my hand as he replied, “I’m a little rusty…”
Just as Anton once said. His cheeks were pink as he quickly began to lead us into circles around the room. Everything about him was warm and inviting; I could even smell the sweet cologne of pine and spruce.
Pine and spruce. Now who does that remind me of? I thought to myself.
“Clara,” he said, clearing his throat. “There are things we still need to speak of.”
“Yes,” I replied, nodding as I tightened my grasp on his shoulder. I had so many things I needed him to explain. So many things I wanted to say.
The music in the room changed to an even slower waltz than before; a strange and haunting melody echoed all around me. Nutcracker responded to the tempo, pressing his hand against the small of my back and brushing his fingers along my spine. It was wonderfully chilling. I could have rested against his chest and stayed like that all night. Perfectly situated on the dance floor, swaying to the melodies as they trickled overhead.
“Nutcracker,” I whispered, looking up into his eyes. There was a deep sea of passion and sorrow gazing down at me. I was lost in them for a moment, my thoughts forgotten. I knew that look; I had seen it first-hand. The longing, the desire to be a part of the crowd.
It was there, in that same expression, I knew I would find Anton. He had once bid me to find him in my dream; he had been beside me this whole time.
The Nutcracker tilted his head toward me slowly, the tip of his nose brushing against mine. It was so gentle, like the season’s first snowfall. Then, without a moment’s hesitation, his lips met mine.
My hand moved to the nape of his neck, as his lips crested over my own in a kiss as sweet as tea cakes. It filled my chest with hope, and instead of questions, my mind buzzed with ‘more.’ I fell into his kiss, stirred by a strange awakening in my chest. I never wanted to be kissed so much in my life. I didn’t want it to stop.
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