CHAPTER TWELVE
Violet woke to feel Duke licking her good hand. The room was pitch-dark, and Violet sat up slowly, lit the candle by her bed, and took the scroll from him.
My Beloved Violet, I was horrified to see what you had done to yourself on my behalf. Dearest, I am not worth injuring yourself. Please do not do something so foolish again. I will find some way for us to be together, no matter the cost. Yours always, Richard.
She reread the letter twice. No mention of the final test. If anything Richard sounded more doubtful of the outcome than he had in previous letters. She scratched Duke’s ears before blowing out the candle and falling back asleep.
The next day Violet was surprised to discover that more people were arriving at the castle. Rows and rows of coaches pulled up outside, and she watched out the window as nobles from several different countries arrived. She could see some of the girls who had chosen to stay despite no longer being in the competition greeting friends and relatives. Even if they hadn’t won, it seemed everyone was excited. She thought back to her own feelings of excitement when she had first heard there would be a royal wedding. Apparently, that was one feeling peasant and noble shared alike. How long ago that moment seemed, and now here she was in the castle, doing everything she could to make sure the royal wedding would be her wedding.
“Who are all those people?” Genevieve asked, coming to stand next to her.
“I think they are here to see the final challenge and participate in the Feasting. Several people from Goldie’s and Ruth’s kingdoms have arrived,” Violet said, pointing to two tight little clusters. Ruth was embracing people who looked to be family members. Goldie was greeting her guests more formally, and Violet remembered with a pang that she had lost both her parents. She wondered which of the men standing near her was her villainous uncle, or if he had decided to stay home and plot against her. She shivered.
“Who is that group?” Genevieve asked, pointing to a large cluster of people who stood apart from the rest.
“Celeste’s parents—and it looks like every living relative she has is with them,” Violet said, overcome with a wave of sadness. She dearly wished she could be greeting her own parents.
“How’s your hand?”
“It hurts a lot,” she admitted.
The morning passed without a mention of the final test. With the castle bursting with even more people, it seemed that there was nowhere to go to have some solitude. Violet escaped to the garden, where she spent several hours talking with Genevieve and Arianna. They had asked Goldie to join them, but she had looked miserable following the arrival of the nobles from her country and seemed to want to be left alone. When dinnertime came, the great hall was crowded with all the newcomers.
Violet was surprised when the steward bade her sit with Celeste, Goldie, and Ruth at the end of the table closest to Richard and his parents. Violet looked regretfully at her usual seat next to Genevieve. She wasn’t excited to be seated next to Celeste.
Violet became anxious as the meal progressed and still nothing was said about the final test. She found herself moving her food around on her plate instead of eating. Just before the meal drew to a close, the king stood, and silence fell on the room.
“Majesties and Highnesses, Lords and Ladies, you all know why we are here. One of these four fair princesses will marry our son and become the new princess of Cambria. They have each passed five challenges and are worthy of the greatest honors that can be bestowed.”
The waiting throng applauded, and Violet felt herself blush.
The king continued. “This week we have set forth many challenges, and these princesses have nobly endeavored to pass them. In order to ensure that each girl was thoroughly tested, the true nature of each test was kept a secret. Until now.”
Violet turned and locked eyes with Genevieve, who nodded and smiled.
“In the first test we asked the princesses to choose between silk and cotton threads. All of the threads were silk. However, each girl was then asked to listen to a petition—and to determine which petitioner was lying and which was telling the truth. Those who could tell the difference passed that test. Discernment was the key.”
Violet gasped as she remembered being asked about the two farmers disputing water rights. So that had been the real test. Genevieve had been right. Not only were all the threads silk; it was not the real test. That was why each of them had chosen differently among the threads and yet been allowed to continue on.
“The girls believed that suffering the pain of a single lost hair was the second test. In truth the second test was how they handled the loss of a single subject—in this case the servant Mary, with whom each of them had interacted only briefly. Those girls who showed concern were allowed to continue on to the next challenge. Compassion was the key.”
Violet began to shake. She had not observed Celeste upon hearing the news of Mary’s passing, but she was surprised that Celeste had been able to have a thought for anyone other than herself. She must have, though, or she would not have passed that challenge.
“I am happy to announce that there was a bit of deception on our part in that round. Mary is alive and well.” King Charles stretched out his hand in the direction of the kitchen, and there stood Mary. She smiled and curtsied. Violet felt joy knowing that the woman was alive.
“For the third test the girls were asked to walk barefoot across the grass, with the only possible results being injury or elimination. While some were injured, one extensively, another refused to bend to the task and another risked exposure as a cheater to pursue what she wanted most.”
There were murmurs from the crowd, and Violet felt her cheeks burning. That whole time, and she hadn’t been fooling anyone. All that stress, and Richard’s parents had known exactly what it was that she was doing with the berries.
The king continued. “We were not actually testing the sensitivity of their feet but the stoutness of their heart. For this test courage was the key. The courage to do what you must, the courage to take a stand, or the courage to risk everything you have for what you want most.”
Violet looked at Arianna, who was smiling.
“The fourth test came when most of the princesses became ill from the food they ate. While some thought we were testing to see if their stomachs were too sensitive for peasant food, this test was devised to measure something quite different. We wanted to see how the girls would respond in the face of adversity, whether they could continue on despite hardship. Perseverance was the key.”
“I said so!” Violet heard Genevieve exclaim.
“The fifth test, a test of burning the princesses’ delicate skin, was in fact a test to see who understood sacrifice. We asked these ladies to sacrifice something of value, their beauty.”
Violet smiled while looking at her still bandaged hand. No one could say she hadn’t passed that test.
“This leaves us with one final test, a test that we shall conduct here with all of you as witness.”
Violet felt her heart sink as she waited to hear the challenge.
“Each princess will tell us why she would be the best person to marry our son.”
The king sat down amidst the sudden uproar. Violet stared dumbfounded at Goldie. Violet knew nothing of speaking in front of a large group of people, and she doubted she could convince anyone that she was the most worthy princess.
“Princess Celeste will go first,” the queen said.
Celeste rose to her feet, and the crowd quieted. She was calm, composed, and sure of herself. Her eyes swept everyone in the room, and Violet couldn’t help but admire her poise. “Long has there been bad blood between Cambria and Lore. These are old feuds whose time has passed. An alliance between Lore and Cambria will ensure peace between these two great kingdoms, and their combined strength will discourage aggression in others. I bring the heart and goodwill of my people. I also bring the wisdom and experience to rule at your son’s side.”
She took her seat amidst loud applause,
particularly from the many Lorians who were present. Violet stared down at her injured hand, trying to decide what she would say.
“Princess Ruth, would you please speak?” the queen asked.
Ruth stood. Her red hair was piled high on her head, standing straighter than she managed to stand. Her hands were shaking, and she kept her eyes fixed on the table. “I have passed every test. I am the most sensitive princess of the four of us. I also know how difficult it can be to lead. Please choose me.”
Princess Ruth sat down to a scattering of applause. Violet’s heart began to race as she prayed she could do better.
“Princess Violet, why are you the best choice to marry our son?”
Violet rose to her feet, took a deep breath, and looked the queen in the eyes.
“I am the best choice for the simple reason that I love your son more than anything. I have left my home to be here. I have sacrificed much, including my family and my dignity, attempting to pass these tests. I know that I have demonstrated the qualities that you are looking for in the new princess of Cambria. I have no kingdom, no riches, no alliances to bring to this marriage. I can offer nothing but myself, but I believe that to be of great value. And I would cherish every day I had with Richard and live it as though it were my last.”
Violet sat back in her chair and heard a few people applauding for her, though she suspected it was her friends.
“And Princess Goldie, what do you have to say?”
Goldie rose to her feet. Her perfect ringlets dusted her shoulders, and looking at her, Violet knew she would be a great queen. “Of everyone here I have the most to offer and the most to gain from an alliance with Cambria. I do not need to tell you the wisdom of that. However, I don’t believe that is the question. You haven’t asked me what’s best for Cambria, but what is best for your son. I know in my heart that Violet is best for your son. She inspires friendship in those who would be rivals. She has compassion for others, the likes of which I have never seen. She understands hardship in a way none of the rest of us ever will, and yet she has the courage of a lion. She has pledged to me her aid, when I made no such pledge to her. She loves your son. She loves Cambria. But even more than that, she is Cambria.”
Goldie sat down and gave Violet a small smile. Violet just stared at her in return. “You are a true queen,” Violet said, reaching out to take Goldie’s hand. Finally understanding the qualities that made a queen, she could think of no higher compliment.
“As you will be shortly,” Goldie said, squeezing her hand.
Violet glanced toward Richard and saw his parents whisper briefly to each other. Then the king stood up again, and the room fell silent. “All four young women have exceptional qualities. This final test, one of self-confidence, has been most illuminating. The queen and I will spend tonight thinking and discussing what has happened here. In the morning we will make it known who our son will marry—Celeste or Violet.”
Pandemonium broke out as roars of excitement went up from the onlookers. There were a few disappointed exclamations that punctuated as well, but they were mostly drowned out by the clamoring of a hundred voices. Violet turned to Goldie. “What just happened?”
Goldie shook her head. “It’s just you and Celeste now. Tomorrow we all will know who will marry Prince Richard and become the future queen of Cambria.”
Violet looked up at Richard and tried to smile but couldn’t. The thought of waiting another minute without knowing her fate was more than she could bear.
“What do I do now?” she asked Goldie.
“Unfortunately, you wait.”
Arianna and Genevieve came up to hug her, but Violet felt as one in a dream. At last the steward approached her.
“Their Majesties have requested that you and Princess Celeste be moved to more comfortable rooms for the night while you await their decision.”
“But I like my room,” Violet said, panicking at the thought of being alone. She knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep, and she was counting on Genevieve to keep her from pacing all night long.
“Nevertheless, a special room has been prepared.”
Her friends each gave her a quick hug, and then Violet found herself following the steward. She was surprised when he didn’t lead her over to the staircase but instead past the throne room. They continued on, and she was surprised to discover another corridor of doors that she hadn’t seen before. The steward came to a stop before a great wooden door that was elaborately carved with flowers and gargoyles, and he opened it.
The room was empty except for a bed. Violet came to an abrupt stop and stared at it. There had to be at least twenty mattresses stacked one on top of the other. A ladder was propped up against the foot of the bed to allow the sleeper to climb up.
“I’m supposed to sleep up there?” Violet asked in disbelief.
“Oh, yes, and you should be honored. Not just any guest is invited to sleep in this room. It’s a special room, and you will find that the bed is the softest you’ve ever experienced.”
“I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep tonight,” Violet admitted.
“You must at least try. Your things will be brought to you later so you can refresh yourself.”
Violet sighed. She wished she could sneak back to her old room with Genevieve and spend the night talking with her, but it probably wouldn’t do to insult the generosity of Richard’s parents, if they had specially selected this room for her. Resigned, Violet climbed the ladder carefully and finally settled onto the pile of mattresses. It was wonderfully soft, and she realized that she was incredibly tired. Her eyes closed, and Violet fell into a deep sleep.
Richard glared at both his parents, who were sitting serenely in front of the hearth in their chambers, sipping spiced cider as though they were discussing nothing more important than what to have for breakfast.
“You must tell me which one you plan to choose as my bride,” Richard insisted.
“Why, so you can run away with Violet if we plan on choosing Celeste?” his father asked.
“So I can properly prepare myself for tomorrow, my wedding, my future.”
“Patience is the one virtue we didn’t teach him well,” his mother remarked to his father.
Richard felt like he was going to lose his mind. His life and happiness hung in the balance, and his parents wanted to lecture him on patience. “Just tell me who!” he pleaded through clenched teeth.
“The truth is, we don’t know who it will be yet,” his father said with a sigh.
“What do you mean, you don’t know? What else could you possibly need to learn about them to make a decision?” Richard asked. Then, suddenly, it came to him. “There’s a final test, isn’t there?” he asked.
“Yes,” his mother said, so quietly he almost didn’t hear her.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because we didn’t want either Celeste or Violet to know there was one additional test,” the king said.
Richard stared at his father’s face, wondering if his father knew or only suspected that he had been warning Violet about the challenges. Richard’s mother, though, was the one to break the stalemate.
“We know that you’ve been passing information on to Violet.”
“How do you know?” Richard asked.
“You are our son,” she said.
“We would have been disappointed if you had left everything to chance,” Charles said.
Richard stared at them. They continued to sip their cider, and from the looks on their faces he knew he would get nothing more out of them. Richard excused himself. There was nothing he could do to help Violet through the last test. That left him only one choice. Outside, Richard saddled up Baron, and soon they were racing toward Violet’s home.
When Prince Richard arrived at the small farmhouse, it was the middle of the night. He wished he had another choice but to wake the occupants at such a late hour. Time was running out, though.
Richard knocked lightly on the wooden door, and not long aft
erward a light flared on inside. William opened the door just as raindrops began to fall.
“Your Highness!” William exclaimed.
“I’m terribly sorry to bother you so late. We need to talk,” Richard said.
The bad people were coming. She could feel them, hear them. They were running through the castle, shouting and angry. There were torches that blazed so hot. She could hear screaming. Her mother! There was the sound of a sword striking another sword and then a terrible silence. Hands were reaching for her, but she hit at them. She was afraid, and she didn’t want to leave. Where would she go? Who would take care of her and love her?
More darkness, more shouting. She was so very frightened, and so was the woman, not her mother, but always so nice. She could smell the fear coming off of her. They ran, faster and faster. But she knew they would never escape. The bad people would always follow, and they would find her. She screamed, but no sound would come out.
Then it was daylight, and she was playing in a field. Her father was coming to her, and he was crying. Her brother was dead. But he wasn’t really her brother—how come she knew that but no one else did?
And there, just behind her father’s shoulder, ever leering, ever mocking, was the shadow. She tried to run, but the shadow reached out for her with spindly arms and grabbed hold of her. She tried to get away, but it was stronger than she was, and it caught her clothes and hair!
Violet woke up screaming. She sat straight up, panting for breath. She was drenched in sweat, and the pile of mattresses shook slightly from side to side. She lay back down, heart pounding in terror. You’re okay, Violet told herself repeatedly, until she started to believe it.
Finally, exhaustion took hold, and she fell into a fitful sleep. Then the nightmares started all over again.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
When Violet finally woke in the morning, she was exhausted. Genevieve arrived with her three maids, and together they made a production out of getting Violet dressed for the day.
“You look perfect,” Genevieve said, stepping back to admire her handiwork.
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