I faced Evland. Was meeting Wron wise? My heart told me that I had no other choice but to meet him and tell him who I really was. Guided by moonlight, I followed the winding garden path to a rustic shed. Through ivy-covered windows, I saw the light of a flickering candle. I pulled the rough-hewn door open and slipped inside. Long-handled implements leaned in one corner.
“I am here,” Wron said. From a tucked-away corner, his hands reached out to take mine, and then I stepped into his embrace.
Though I giggled, I felt strangely calm.
“We are playing with fire.” At the moment his conscience was playing more havoc than mine.
“I have to tell you that even though I have come to care deeply for you, Dory, I will marry Alia. It would be wrong to let you think any other way.”
I looked from his dark, light-filled eyes to our hands. I was the one being dishonest. “There is something I need to tell you, also.”
“Not now . . . everything is too quiet. We can’t stay here too long.” His eyes sparkled with marvelous light, and then my betrothed leaned forward and kissed me for the first time.
Images of Shepherd’s Field filled my memory. Multiple shades of vibrant and muted green wove a tapestry. Birds sang sweetly. The sky was that ethereal blue. In a daze, I stepped away only to be pulled back to him.
“You will have to leave, Dory. After I’m married, maybe before, you will have to leave.”
I shook my head. “I have much to tell you, tonight.” Resting my hands about his neck, I smiled up at him.
The door creaked open. King Walter stepped inside, followed by Roger. I remained in Wron’s arms. The time had come.
“Wron, I’m sorry; your mother and I were afraid this might happen.” Walter’s soft jowls shook as he spoke. “We’ve arranged for Ivan to accompany Needa and Dory to Evland. While you’re there”—he looked at me—“I’d like you to pick a piece of land that you love. We have long held a promise to Blue Sky that Princess Alia will marry our only son. It is a profitable and preferred merger for both countries. It is a promise I do not want broken, no matter how much my son may be in love with you.”
“I have a remedy, Your Highness.” I smiled, beaming with happiness.
Wron withdrew my hands from around his neck, and, with dull eyes, he looked away. His actions clouded my thinking.
“Young lady, it is you that created this mess. Roger, take her. I want them out of here tonight, before—”
“I need one minute of your time.” I held up my index finger. “Well, maybe two.”
With a deep sigh of remorse, Walter shook his head. “Cover her mouth, if you must.”
The moment had come.
“I am . . .” I said, looking at Walter, “my father’s daughter…” At the same time, Roger waved something beneath my nose, and all the while, Wron just stared at me as if it were all a terrible dream and he was just waiting to wake up.
Whatever Roger waved smelled strong and odd. Not like garlic were my last thoughts before I sank into his arms.
Chapter Ten
The rattle of wooden wheels bouncing over a rutted road woke me. I was traveling alone in an old carriage drawn by two common mares. Moonlight streamed through the open windows. The countryside was cast in muted grays, and the knit blanket covering my lap was lavender.
Wherever I was going, I need not doubt that Queen Eunice would miss me.
Overhead, I focused on the moon. A full moon often proved to be a fool’s moon. It was the moon that had gotten me into trouble. Tears slid down my cheeks as I recalled the Summer Ball and my moonlit walk to the garden shed.
A sniffle escaped me.
“Don’t cry, Dory.” Across the aisle, Needa climbed out of a sloppily packed handbag. “We’re going to Evland. What they think is punishment is really a reward. You want letters, and I want a husband.”
The carriage bounced, and Needa’s cap slid down over her face. She righted it on her head, looking at me.
“My heart is broken, Needa.”
“I don’t know what you were thinking—falling in love with Prince Wron.” She rolled her eyes. “Now the king is worried that Prince Wron will want to marry you and not the princess. They say you are the best of counterfeits.”
“They said that?” I laughed sadly.
“Yes. King Walter said, ‘Hers was the best of plans.’” Needa bounced three inches into the air before grabbing the handbag. “They hope to keep us in Evland for ten days or at least until Princess Alia arrives.”
“They truly think I’m a counterfeit princess?” I could not help but smile at the irony.
“Queen Eunice said your scheme is brilliant. Now King Walter is afraid that the true princess is wandering the hills. And Prince Wron probably believes every word you ever said.”
I gazed blindly at the moon, full and all-seeing.
Several hours later, I awoke to a faint blue sky. The carriage had stopped. Deep in the handbag, Needa had wrapped herself in one of my skirts. A guard, dressed as a farmer, appeared in the open window. He handed me slices of Rhoda’s strudel. I set one aside for Needa. The guard remained right outside our window, and together we ate the strudel in silence. He was completely bald on top. Tight white ringlets grew under his earlobes and around the base of his head.
“Thank you,” I said.
He nodded before he climbed up into the driver’s seat, and the carriage was again in motion.
“Ivan is mute.” Needa’s green cap slowly emerged from the handbag followed by the round-cheeked, yawning gnome. “He’s never been one to gossip. That’s why he was assigned to you, well, to us. King Walter wants very little gossip. He wants Yonder to back the coming wedding. An unhappy royal marriage makes for an unhappy Yonder.”
“Did Rhoda say that?”
“Yes; she will miss us.” Needa reached for the strudel. “When Ivan carried you down to the carriage, Rhoda cried into her apron.”
“Where was Prince Wron?” I turned toward the window, hoping to hide my tears.
“I don’t know. I don’t think he left the garden shed.”
ΦΦΦ
Wron lit the candles for the dinner table. The piano in the alcove was a constant reminder of Dory’s absence. How quickly they’d all become accustomed to her pleasantries and the richness her music had brought to their home.
Rhoda served from the left instead of the right. “It’s too quiet, here,” she said. “Even though I banged the kettles extra loud, it is still too quiet.” She ground black pepper over Wron’s tossed salad and didn’t notice when he waved his hand for her to stop.
“Enough, Rhoda, thank you.”
“I even miss the sound of Needa sitting on her seesaw cutter. I miss Dory’s piano music and her stories of Blue Sky.”
“Enough, Rhoda,” his father said. “They haven’t even been gone twenty-four hours, and you are going on and on.”
“Blue Sky?” Wron dabbed at the corner of his mouth with the linen serviette. “What stories?”
“Many stories. Her stories of Princess Alia’s sixteenth birthday party, riding the rolling hills, never being allowed to help in the kitchen because of her gifted hands.”
“I should have had Dory share more of her stories.” Eunice sighed. “I do not know how I will survive for ten days without her.”
“You will, Eunice. You will go on just as you did before the piano girl,” his father said.
“The air was so empty back then.”
“We’ll call in some other musicians in her absence.” His father patted her hand.
“What a lovely idea, Walter.”
“And what do you miss about her, Wron?” his mother asked.
“Me?” he asked, clearing his throat.
His mother took a heaping bite of peas and nodded.
“Everything.” He sighed unhappily. “I will miss her presence.”
ΦΦΦ
During breakfast the next morning, a young man wearing pointed slippers played the flute. He flitted
about the dining room as he played. The music was very disturbing. Wron glanced over at the empty piano bench and recalled the way Dory’s music entranced the mind. He wanted to find the flyswatter and swat the flute player.
Rhoda carried a tray to the table, a forlorn look on her large, round face.
“Eight more days, Rhoda, and they’ll be back.” Wron tried to encourage her.
“Twenty-four meals, Prince Wron.” She set the creamer and spoons on the table. “I miss Needa, but I worry about Dory. Will she return?”
“I do not know.” He looked to his father, who was hidden behind the weekly paper. “Father told her to pick out a piece of land that she loves. I suppose there’s a possibility that only Needa will return.”
“You didn’t tell me that, Walter!” his mother said.
His father lowered the paper. “I was upset. If the two of them can get along without moonlight in their eyes, the piano girl can stay. Otherwise, yes, she will be sent to Evland for good.”
Wron looked toward the piano and sighed. Maybe Evland was best.
ΦΦΦ
At dinner, a young maiden with jet-black hair sat near the fireplace and strummed a painted guitar. Her voice was lovely, but her lyrics were dark reflections of her broken heart. “He’s never coming back. He’s gone for good. He gave me his love. He gave me his word.”
After enduring the dismal song, Wron cleared his throat. “Do you know any happier tunes, fair maiden?”
She nodded. “If I only had a horse, I would have followed him, of course. Over the hills, I would have followed him into the setting sun. But I had none. Now he’s gone. Oh! Never love a knight. He only wants to fight. He’ll take off in the night and leave your love. Never love a knight.”
“Only twenty-two more meals,” his father whispered.
The maiden’s music put Wron in a sour mood.
He strode onto the terrace and stared at the distant blue hills. Was Dory thinking about him? How he longed to ride after her and find her. But his bride was due any moment. He stilled his mind and tried to think about something, anything, besides Dory. Perhaps I speak too much from my own heart. He recalled her sweet confession and knew that eight more days would feel like a lifetime.
ΦΦΦ
During breakfast, Wron’s mother hummed the maiden’s tune to “Never Love a Knight.”
“Tell me, Mother, that we are to enjoy a meal without music,” he said, hopeful.
“The harpist is running late.”
They were halfway through Rhoda’s Giant Cakes when the harpist arrived. Her husband was sick and could not care for the baby. The harpist held the baby in one arm while she played the harp with the other. Though the music was lovely, half the melody was missing.
Wron stared toward the alcove and remembered Dory seated at the piano. With an ache in his chest, he recalled the time that she’d glanced over her shoulder at him while she’d played.
“Wron, not now,” his mother hushed. “The harpist is not playing that song.”
Unknowingly, he’d been humming the tune to “Waiting.”
“Twenty-one more meals,” his father said from behind the newspaper.
Chapter Eleven
We reached Evland in two days, not three. Ivan slowed the carriage to a stop in front of a large, hand-carved sign that read: “Evland. Population 1,001, 281.” Ivan climbed down from the driver’s seat to prepare lunch.
There is much healing needed in your future kingdom. I recalled Felix’s sentiments as I looked around at the scrub and homes that had been burned to the ground.
Needa hopped out of the handbag, and I lifted her up so she could sit in the window for a better view.
“I will find the letters first, and then we will husband hunt,” I told her.
“No, Dory.” She glanced over at me. “It is the other way around.”
“No, I know where the letters are.”
“I know where the gnomes are.”
Outside our carriage window, Ivan took a dixel from his pocket and showed it to both of us. One side of the coin portrayed King Walter’s profile, the other side, Queen Eunice’s.
“I call King.” Needa crossed her fingers and briefly shook her fists toward heaven.
“Queen.” I breathed deeply.
Ivan tossed the coin up into the air, caught it, and slapped it onto the back of his hand. He smiled and showed me Queen Eunice’s regal profile.
Needa grumbled for the next hour while I explained the location of the letters to Ivan. “Felix said that his old cottage is six large stones, or blocks, north of the village of Kaye.”
“Why do you call your father by his first name?” Needa asked.
I caught my breath. “It is a Blue Sky custom.” I slid three fingers out against my knee as I kept track.
After miles of rolling scrub, we entered a small village. Half of the homes lay in ruins, yet small white rock cottages with shutters lined the far end of town. Apron-clad women stood in the doorways of their homes, while small children clutched at their skirts. I waved and recalled Felix’s stories of a happier Evland.
Ivan stopped the carriage. I leaned out of the carriage window to see him. He held up six fingers and pointed to a large rock.
“After six rocks, there are three oak trees. They are not close together,” I said.
Within one hundred yards, I counted two oaks. Then we traveled for half a mile before counting a third oak tree. Ivan slowed the carriage to point to it.
“We are close now.” I opened the carriage door and leaped to the ground. “There will be a white stone cottage.” I scanned a rolling meadow. No cottage was in sight.
“It was probably destroyed in the war,” Needa said from the carriage. “The rocks were probably used for ammunition.”
“I will walk the land and look for white stones. Ivan, please stay here and guard the carriage.”
The kind guard nodded.
Without the white cottage to guide me, I didn’t know in which direction to walk. “Think. Think clearly.” I looked about me.
“I will help you find it,” Needa bellowed from the carriage.
I returned to the carriage and placed the wee gnome on my shoulder. “The letters mean more to me than I’ve explained.”
“I know.” She ran her small hand reassuringly across the back of my neck. “We will look for white rock.”
The grass was tall and the ground rutted. Off in the distance, the land sloped down to a river, which careened through golden hills. As far as the eye could see, there were no neighbors, and to my dismay, neither was there a white stone cottage, though I felt certain we had found the property.
“White rock.” Needa pointed off to the right. Fifty paces away lay three rocks. I stopped near the teapot-sized rocks and surveyed the land. The site was as Felix had described, with its view of the river valley.
“West of the cottage, there will be a hillock.” I saw a small knoll and counted twenty steps. I now felt certain that the rocks were the old homestead.
For many years, the land had lain undisturbed. Ferns and moss covered the hillside. Large rocks jutted out of the slope. I set Needa on the limb of a nearby plum tree, then gripped the nearest rock and rolled it downhill. I knelt down to examine the ground. It was just dirt. I rolled over three more rocks.
“You don’t know which one, do you?” she yelled.
“No.” I rested my hands on my hips.
“The large rock looks interesting to me.”
A large boulder lay nestled into the hillside. Needa was right; it did look interesting. It also looked heavy.
Rocking it from side to side, I loosened it from the earth, and then I placed my feet behind and rolled it downhill. I knelt in front of the hole and looked inside. There was a tunnel in the dirt, much like a small animal would make. Reaching deep inside, I closed my hand around a metal cylinder. After pulling it out, I stared at Felix’s most treasured possession.
“Why did he not take it with him?” Needa asked.
“They planned to return here someday, but neither were able.” My voice cracked.
“I’m sorry, Dory.”
“I will read it tonight. We will find your husband now, Needa.”
ΦΦΦ
In the carriage, Needa returned to my shoulder. “Ivan, do you know Swallow’s Glen?” she asked.
Standing outside the window, Ivan shook his head.
“There is a small stream and a red barn. In the curve of the valley, there is a grove of oak trees.”
He nodded.
Needa clapped and then clutched at my hair to stay seated.
“When a gnome is born, an acorn is planted. If I can find my birthday tree, I will find other gnomes.” Needa clutched at my hair.
I stared sadly out the window and recalled Walter’s words, “Find a piece of land that you love.” If it came to that, I would pick Felix’s old homestead. The land tugged at my heart.
We stopped at a small stream. I set Needa on top of a log. Holding Ivan’s gun, I waited, and as in mealtimes past, a bird flew into sight. I pulled the trigger, and a pheasant fell to the ground.
“No wonder Prince Wron wants to take you hunting.” Needa clapped.
My heart leaped. “Did he tell you that?”
“He told his mother. He also talked of your sourdough.”
“I wish I had the sourdough starter. Rhoda did not think to pack it.” But of course, our trip had been very short notice for her.
While I cleaned the bird, I longed for nightfall when I would read Felix’s letters by the fire.
“I will bathe in the stream and change into clean clothes. If we find my birthday tree, I will meet my husband tonight.” Needa flipped a blonde braid over her shoulder.
I carried her to the stream and washed my hands. While she bathed, I thought of all the possible predators that a six-inch little gnome might have. Needa changed into a lovely, cream-colored dress, and then she topped it off with her green cap.
“For your wedding, we should braid a crown of flowers in your hair,” I said.
The Piano Girl - Part Two (Counterfeit Princess Series) Page 9