With a hand cupped over my eyes, I scanned the far side of the room. The audience turned in their chairs to look, also. And like he did during our first performance, Wron also turned to watch.
“It won’t be long, Long,” I said.
“Little old woman, where are you?” His unseeing eyes roved the room.
Weaver returned. A hush fell over the group as a disheveled, white-haired woman walked in behind him. Her hair was frizzy, her cheeks were windblown, and her apron was soiled. Slowly her gaze found Long across the room.
No fire crackled in the hearth this warm night, but a new melody had begun in my head. In a very short time, I would be walking toward Wron, and my face would be just as radiant.
“Long . . . a beautiful woman with flowing white hair is slowly walking toward us.”
“Does she look like she’s forgiven me?”
“There is no doubt,” I whispered and then in my normal pitch, “Yes, she looks like a bride, there is so much love in her eyes.”
“Little old woman . . .” Long held out his hands and turned slightly toward the stairs. “I'm so blessed . . .”
Lifting her skirt at the knee, his wife slowly climbed the steps.
“Words cannot express . . .”
Molly took that final step toward him, and then pressed her cheek to his chest. Her arms wrapped about his long waist.
“Awh . . . my Molly.” He kissed the top of her hair.
I glanced toward Eunice and Rhoda. Tears glistened on their cheeks before they were wiped away. And, perhaps tempting fate, I stole a glance toward my future beloved. Wron’s gaze made my heart flutter, and then I saw seated beside him at the table a tall, lean form, and someone of much shorter stature, her head bowed and tilted to the side. Leeson and Elza.
Tears sprang to my eyes. They were finally here to witness the scene I’d told them about a handful of times. My betrothed was a kind and thoughtful man. Tomorrow night at the Summer Ball, I would wear one of my gowns from Blue Sky, and at the close of the evening, I would tell Wron and his parents who I really was.
Long, Molly, and I remained onstage together and bowed. Under Peg’s direction, I flipped back my hood. Murmurs and gasps rippled through the audience, as there were still many who had not seen me in my healed state.
To join us onstage, we called up Weaver, Clarence, Raul, and Peg, and with the group complete, we bowed again. “We didn’t bleed it dry,” Peg whispered to me. “We perfected it.” She sniffled as we made our last bow.
I squeezed her hand.
“Play something, Dory.” The requests began. “Dory, play.”
I was no longer known as the Swamp Woman to my countrymen, but as Dory, the piano girl. My fingers twitched with unexpressed happiness.
It was time to play.
Chapter Nine
The Summer Ball was celebrated in the large courtyard beneath the terrace of the King and the Queen’s royal bedchamber. Several varieties of apricot-colored roses were in bloom; they were fragrant and lovely. The guards took turns on duty to enjoy the festivities, while commoners and royalty alike danced to fiddle music.
I stood beside Eunice and watched Wron and Rhoda waltz. In a purple gown, Needa sat happily on Wron’s shoulder, holding on to the nape of his cape. Rhoda’s round face turned pink when she stepped on Wron’s toes, and beet red when she stepped on them a second time.
“It is too bad Needa does not have another color cap,” I whispered to Eunice.
“She told me once why she had to wear green.” Eunice squinted as she tried to remember. “Some gnome tradition.”
Across the courtyard, a lovely young woman also watched Wron. Blonde curls framed her pixie face. She watched him like he was fair game. Wron was attractive and—I smiled to myself—“taken.”
“It’s a lovely gown you’re wearing, Dory.” Eunice fluttered an ivory-handled fan in front of her powdered face. “Quite regal.”
The gown I wore was dark green and elegant. Interwoven in the rounded bodice was a translucent silver ribbon. “It’s one of Princess Alia’s old gowns,” I said.
“Oh. The commoners will not recognize their Swamp Woman,” Eunice said. “I cannot tell from this distance who Wron is speaking with. Can you?”
“He’s speaking with a particularly lovely girl,” I murmured. “Short blonde hair.”
“Oh, it’s just Enna.”
With a tightness in my rib cage, I watched as he led the pixie girl into the middle of the square.
Someone took my elbow. I turned to see Leeson.
“I did not recognize you.” He smiled. “Twice, I looked at you and did not see you.”
“You wear a beaudiful dress and common shoes,” Elza said beside him.
“Yes, I wanted to be barefoot”—I smiled—“but Queen Eunice said that I must wear shoes.”
“I am not a good dancer, but would you care to dance with an old man like me?” Leeson held out his hand to me.
“Yes, of course.”
He led me to an uncrowded area on the lawn and set his hand to the small of my back. While we waltzed, I returned his heartfelt gaze and was reminded of my sixteenth party, when Father and I had waltzed. God had led me to Leeson and Elza’s home for several reasons. They needed me almost as much as I needed them.
While we waltzed, I looked to the center of the courtyard. The lovely pixie was still in Wron’s arms, while around them the common folk appeared to be enjoying themselves immensely. I did not share their lightheartedness. I struggled with my feelings. I wanted Wron to ask me to dance at least once. I wanted to know that he loved me before he found out who I really was. I wondered if I wanted too much.
When the music ended, I clapped softly and searched the square for Wron. Across the courtyard our eyes met. I breathed shallowly as his gaze lingered on mine. In the warm summer air, I smelled the subtle fragrance of roses. He looked sad; perhaps he was also miserable amidst the festivities.
Fiddle music filled the air. Wron turned away and took the hand of the nearest maiden. I closed my eyes and told myself that I would remember his long, miserable look all my life.
I strode toward one of the refreshment tables. A gnarly honeysuckle bush rambled overhead along the castle wall. Blossoms floated in the large punch bowl, and I carefully scooped out a few yellow tendrils. I glanced back to the dance, where the lovely pixie girl now stood alone. By her forlorn expression, I knew that my heart was not the only one Wron was breaking tonight.
Cragdon stopped beside me and ladled punch into a glass. “I have finally gathered courage,” he said. “Would you like to dance, Dory?”
I smiled at his persistence. Poor Cragdon. Even though I’d climbed out the window at The Bell Tower, he persisted.
“Has Wron told you that I am from a long line of knights?” He set down his glass and, taking my hand, led me through the crowd to the center of the square.
“No, he has not,” I replied. Up until now, I’d only danced with Leeson, while Wron had danced with every other wallflower at the ball. I would not feel guilty about dancing with Cragdon.
“You are light on your feet.” Cragdon pulled me closer. “In another lifetime, you were a princess.”
“You hold me too close, Sir Cragdon.”
He swung me out of his arm into the krassant, and to his surprise, I knew how to follow. He pulled me close again, his eyes glistening. “You do not dance like a commoner.”
“It is you who does not dance like a commoner,” I said, but did not meet his gaze.
“I was to be the future king of Evland before we lost the war.”
I stared. His eyes were steel blue and honest.
“What happened?” I’d never heard the other side of the story.
“My father thought we could win.” He pursed his mouth. “He’d acquired the new double-barreled guns. For years, he’d planned. He became obsessed with defeating King Ulrich. He didn’t know that Yonder had planned for his attack for years.”
Spirits heavy, I remembered my fath
er and his incessant pacing. “I’m sorry, Cragdon. Your life has not gone as you would have dreamed.”
Briefly, my comrade closed his eyes. “It was kind of King Walter not to behead me. Usually that is what happens in time of war to the entire royal family. I will serve Yonder faithfully all my life because of that.”
“Why didn’t he?” I was not unfamiliar with the atrocities of war.
Cragdon’s chest expanded. “I was born on the same day, in the same year, as his youngest son, Prince Wally. I believe this coincidence is my saving grace.”
“I do, too.” I nodded.
When the song ended, we parted to clap. “Another dance?” he asked with a fervent smile.
“I’m sorry, I have other commitments.”
“I understand.” His jaw tightened as he stepped away to follow after a young woman with dark, flowing hair.
Wron and Rhoda waltzed again in the middle of the square, while Walter and Eunice conversed with guests. At the dessert table, I set seven berry tartlets upon a plate and doubted that I’d be missed.
I carried the plate of tarts toward the back entrance to the kitchen and from there took the hidden route down the prison stairs. In the corner of his cell, Knot lay half-asleep. Upon seeing me, he rolled a kink out of his neck, and then he yawned.
“I brought you a tart.” I held the plate against the bars.
“I hear music from above. You are young, beautiful, and thinking of me.” He eyed me curiously before glancing toward the stairs. “I am surprised that half the king’s army has not followed you.” His hand snaked through the bars, and then he enjoyed his first bite of tart. “You’re sad. There is one fellow that you wish had.”
I missed the brief friendship Wron and I had shared when I became Yonder’s royal pianist. Now that I was healed, he simply avoided me.
“You are brokenhearted about someone or something.” Knot sighed. “I’m much better with political strategy than a woman’s tears.”
“I’m not crying.” Tears in check, I swallowed.
“You are close.” Knot observed me.
I glanced at my old cell. “I know it’s wrong of me, Knot, but I only want to marry for love.”
“You are a commoner; you have that privilege.” He chuckled.
I lifted my eyes to his gaze.
“But that is not a commoner’s dress.” Knot munched on his second tart.
“It’s an old one of Princess Alia’s.”
“It does not look old.” His gray brows gathered. “The velvet is without blemish.”
“Perhaps she merely tired of it.”
Knot’s eyes flickered with light. “A shocking revelation has occurred to me.”
I smiled softly. “I’m sorry, Knot, I’m not in love with you.”
“It is not just your broken heart; we are also discussing politics?” He forged ahead.
As I glanced toward the stairs, I unknowingly held the tart plate closer to the bars.
“When will you tell him?” He slid a tart into his pocket.
“Tell whom, what?” I met Knot’s gaze.
“That you are Alia.”
I dropped my gaze to the four remaining tarts and slowly moved away from Knot’s cell toward Stapleton’s.
“Dearest Dory . . .” Knot said.
I inhaled deeply and then regarded him over my shoulder.
“By not answering, you have answered.” One gray brow lifted higher than the other. “A common girl would have been delighted with such a compliment.”
“Thank you, Knot.”
He chuckled. “Come here, or I will yell your real name.”
Heat filled my face, yet I had no choice but to stand in front of his cell. Knot took another tart from the plate. “From the beginning, everything about you was royalty—the grace with which you move, your voice inflections, your taste in food.” He smiled. “Everything, except your pox. Yonder royalty is too close to be judicious.”
I wondered what Knot would do with the truth that was now in his possession. Would he use it for harm or for good, this man who’d been adviser to the king? Was I wise to consider him a friend?
ΦΦΦ
One hour before midnight, Leeson, Elza, and I said our good-byes at the gatehouse.
“Preddiest girl ad dee ball,” Elza said, while Leeson kissed my forehead.
“Thank you for everything.” Arm in arm, the elderly couple walked home across the bridge. The river below was bathed in yellow ochre, and the poignant moment left me feeling uneasy.
“You are like family to me,” I called, but the distance was too great, as Leeson did not even raise a hand.
Silhouetted by the full moon, the guards sang the fiddler’s song as they stood watch atop the walls. The music serenaded me as I walked back to the festivities.
I stood next to Eunice, Walter beside her, and suppressed a yawn. I thought about politely informing them that it had been a long, wonderful day and I was retiring, but Wron stopped to stand beside his father.
“Where is Dory?” he asked.
“On the other side of your mother,” Walter said.
Wron leaned slightly forward and nodded with a faint smile. I nodded in return.
“I have not seen you dance with Dory tonight,” Eunice said.
“I do not think it wise, Mother.”
“Our people love Dory,” Eunice persisted. “They would love to see you dance with her.”
“I do not think it wise.” Wron shook his head.
I stepped behind Eunice and briefly closed my eyes. I had longed for this opportunity all evening, and now that it had presented itself, I also questioned… was it wise? Would his parents be able to read the emotion in my eyes?
Wron stepped in front of his mother and held a hand out toward me. “Dory, would you care to dance?”
He was not taking his own advice. I looked over Eunice’s shoulder at him before placing my right hand in his. He led me to the center of the crowded courtyard, placed his hand to the small of my back, and held my other hand in his. Then, quite solemn in expression, he gazed over the top of my head. His steps were extremely precise, as if he was counting in his head to pass the time.
Bored, I stared at his Adam’s apple. Though onlookers watched with keen interest, there was nothing for anyone to read into, for we danced like blind strangers. Midsong, he glanced down at me.
“Lovely weather,” I said. “I hear there’s a drought in the Alps.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed down, then up. The second time that he peered down at me, his eyes were sparkling. “You will not break me so easily,” he whispered.
“May I try?” I suppressed a smile.
He pursed his mouth before nodding.
“For as long as you can remember, you have waited for Alia.”
He lowered his head slightly to hear my whisper.
“And she is almost here. Your heart is ready to love her, or perhaps, someone. And while you wait, you continue to fear that you will be a disappointment to each other.”
I paused to weigh my words. “I know Princess Alia well, and I can honestly say… you will not be a disappointment to her. So now it’s narrowed down to your fear. Will she be a disappointment to you?”
Continuing in step, he glanced at my flushed face. “You are too certain of another’s feelings.”
“Perhaps I speak too much from my own heart.” My heart missed a beat as I realized the enormity of my confession.
Wron drew me closer and made two slow turns. His silence was painful. Do not say another word, I told myself.
“I was very fond of you when you were the Swamp Woman.” He sighed. “And now that you are healed, I should no longer confide in you. I’m sorry.”
“Why?” I breathed.
Like Cragdon, he rolled me away from him into the krassant and rolled me back again into his arms. The music had changed, and we were now into our second dance. He pulled me so close that I wrapped up beneath his chin like a caterpillar in a cocoon. “My pare
nts deem you a counterfeit. They speak of it often in your absence.”
I stared at the front of his shirt. “Well, then we have much to talk about tonight.”
He continued the monotonous waltz. I glanced up, surprised that he was looking at me. “I have heard… that there is an open rose,” he said.
“Pardon me?” I could not believe what he’d just voiced.
“I would like to show you the first open rose of summer.”
My betrothed loved me.
A thousand shivers made their way to the tips of my toes.
“My parents and my country are watching you blush with great interest in their eyes.” He smiled, and I waited for him to spin me away, but instead we kept waltzing.
“I cannot meet your eyes for the emotion that is in mine,” I whispered.
His chest inflated. “After the song ends, go stand by my mother. Roger will deliver a message.”
The fiddlers paused only briefly between songs. I glanced up into Wron’s eyes. He smiled softly and nodded. In full view of his countrymen, he released my hand, and I made my way through the crowded courtyard to the Queen’s side.
“Beautiful.” Eunice fluttered her ivory-handled fan. “You are both lovely and amusing to watch. My son is very taken with you… very. I’m afraid that we may have to send you away soon, my dear. Very soon.”
“It’s only the full moon,” I whispered. For half of a waltz, I suppressed a smile as I remembered being in her son’s arms.
As Roger walked behind me, he slid a note into my hand and then grasped the hand of Olivia, the dark-haired beauty that Cragdon had earlier found alluring. I walked to the punch table and, with my back to the dance, unfolded Wron’s note.
Face Evland and find the moon; below it you’ll see a garden shed. —W. I folded up the note and slid it inside the palm of my white glove.
“Now that you are no longer dancing with a future king…” I heard Cragdon’s voice behind me and turned to see him flash a tipsy smile. “May I have the next dance?”
“I’m sorry”—I bit my lower lip—“but I again have commitments.”
“I will wait for an opening.” To my relief, he wandered off into the crowd.
The Piano Girl - Part Two (Counterfeit Princess Series) Page 8