Wron’s memories returned to the night he’d held Dory in the cave and she’d lain in the curve of his arm. The memory now haunted him. “Alia will not be comfortable with Dory as a live-in pianist. When we are married, Dory will return to Evland.”
“That is too far away. Perhaps she can live with Leeson and Elza and continue to play at The Bell Tower.”
“No, Mother.” He shook his head.
“That is too close.” His mother nodded sadly. “Dory, dear,” she said loudly. “That is enough. I do not wish to tire you. Come, sit down.”
In a blue velvet gown that he had not seen before, Dory took a seat in the wingback chair across from him.
“How is your arm, dear?”
“Heavier than I remember.” She managed a soft smile and briefly met Wron’s gaze. Pink stained her complexion.
“Excuse me,” she said, rising to her feet. “I’ll help Rhoda.”
“You will do no such thing,” Eunice said.
“Let her go, Mother.”
After Dory disappeared into the kitchen, Wron sighed. “Her presence is difficult for me now.”
“Because you are afraid that you acted out of love, not fear?”
“For the last six years, you have told me that I am to marry Alia and…”
“No, it was your father who gave you away, not me.”
“What are you saying, Mother?”
“I’m saying . . . find Princess Alia another country to marry.”
“Life is not so simple.” He chuckled sadly.
Chapter Thirteen
Seated at the servants’ table, Needa and I enjoyed a midafternoon snack of fresh figs. Rhoda stopped in the doorway and cleared her throat. “Take this bucket, Dory, and get me enough potatoes to fill it.” It wasn’t her request that surprised me, but more the unnatural, stilted way she spoke. “Here…” She held out a white enamel bucket.
“I will help,” Needa said.
“No, Dory can do this one handed,” Rhoda bellowed.
She was usually sensitive to my one-armed condition, but perhaps she was finally fed up with feeding a royal family all by herself.
“Put me in the bucket,” Needa whispered. “It’s dark down there.”
I took the bucket from Rhoda, but the giant woman watched me so closely that I couldn’t very well return to the table for Needa.
Rhoda escorted me to the rear of the kitchen, where I opened the door to the cellar stairwell. I glanced back at her, and for a moment I was glad that I’d left Needa behind as a witness. The giant woman usually got her own potatoes. Something was up. Carrying both a lantern and the empty bucket in one hand, I made my way down the narrow stone stairwell. I had visited briefly once before and knew the cold, dark storage room could easily inspire nightmares.
I reached the dirt floor. The cool, heavy air was woven with spider webs. Holding the lantern shoulder high, I passed large jars of pickled baby onions, gooseberries, sheeps’ eyes… I had to suppress my imagination as I focused on the large burlap bags at the far side of the room.
Suddenly, the pale yellow glow of another light source revealed itself.
Though I’d been expecting something, a gasp still escaped me. I froze in place as someone holding a lantern high moved through a row of stacked goods toward the center aisle.
If I screamed, it would be wasted breath. No one in the castle would hear me. Think… think! Rhoda had sent me here for more than potatoes.
“Dory.”
I tried to recognize the voice, but I was too scared.
The form stopped in the center of my aisle, and the light illuminated King Walter’s shiny face and thick white hair.
“I asked Rhoda to send you here.” He smiled.
My heart sprinted inside my weakened vessel. With furrowed brows, I peered around. Why would the king of Yonder want to meet me alone in the storage room?
“Since you survived the Forest Maze alone, and your trip to Evland, I knew that meeting me in the storage room would be a piece of cake.” He grinned. “I wanted a private place for our little chat.” He swished his hand.
As I followed him, I reminded myself that King Walter was himself a warlord, and whatever the premise for our meeting, there was good reason behind it.
Lantern in hand, he sat down on a large bag of rice. I set my lantern atop a nearby wooden barrel, and then sat down on a sack of beans within an arm’s reach of him. Between the two light sources, we could clearly see each other.
“Knot and I recently shared a cup of coffee.” There was a profound twinkle in his eyes.
He knew.
Walter leaned toward me and, bending to one knee, inched the lantern closer. He held his palm up just below my chin and motioned upward with his fingers. I knew what he implied, but hesitated. Lowering my chin, I locked eyes with him.
“Lift your chin, Dory.” His voice was firm, like Father’s when he really wanted something.
Even in this isolated moment, Dixie’s words haunted me. Tell no one. No one will believe you. I waited for God’s whisper of encouragement.
“Alia, lift your chin,” Walter ordered.
Suppressing a smile, I tipped back my head until I looked squarely at the rock ceiling.
Walter tilted his head to the side, and I heard an intake of air. Then he returned to sit on the bag of rice. Walter sat mute, one brow raised.
While he took it all in, my memory revisited the garden shed. How deliriously happy I’d been in Wron’s arms. So deliriously happy that I’d been a fool. All I’d needed to say was: “I am Princess Alia, and I have proof.”
Yet, despite my present injury, good had come out of my banishment to Evland. Needa had found Lehto, and Wron had found me.
Walter began to chuckle. His hearty laughter echoed in the cavernous room. He wiped his eyes and eventually sighed. “Thank God you’re alive!” He shook his head. “When will your father arrive?”
“Soon,” I breathed. “He plans to be here for the wedding. They left two weeks after Felix and me. But they took the longer route… Perhaps three weeks behind me. Any day.” I nodded. “He should be here any day.”
“Hmm . . .” Walter’s jowls hung low, and his face had lost expression. “Why, why… did you do it?”
“What were my choices?” Didn’t he remember my pox?
He nodded and rested his hands to his knees, and studied me again. “Tell me your stories of Yonder that you will someday tell my grandchildren.”
His words held such reassuring truth.
I told him about etching DORY—Piano Girl into the rock in my cell.
King Walter listened, fascination heavy in his eyes.
By the soft glow of lantern light, I sat on a large bag of beans and told my future father-in-law about my days as a common piano girl in the country where I would someday be called Queen.
Chapter Fourteen
While Rhoda made dinner, I insisted that I was well enough to serve. As I walked between the kitchen and dining area with dishes, King Ulrich lifted the newspaper. He was chuckling behind it. Bless his heart. He was trying his best to keep my secret.
“Dory, now that you’re feeling better, why don’t you and Rhoda deliver dessert to the prisoners tonight?” Walter suggested, lowering the paper.
“Walter, don’t be silly. She’s still recovering!” Eunice said.
“Father . . . just walking down the stairs will tire her.” Wron set down his glass.
“I’d love to,” I said.
“Good.” Walter beamed. He knew how much I cared for the men, especially Knot.
ΦΦΦ
Rhoda dished out pear-and-ginger cobbler and topped each serving with freshly whipped cream. I paid close attention. The decorative swirl wasn’t a flick as I had done, but more a smooth rotation of the wrist.
“Oh, Knot would love a glass of milk,” Rhoda said. By the time we were through pouring drinks, two trays were full, and to be honest, I was of little help.
“Ask King Walter if he will
help us.” Rhoda’s voice again sounded stilted to me.
When I hesitated, she waved her hand. “When you and Needa were in Evland, he helped me.”
Her voice reminded me of my visit to the cellar. “King Walter . . .” I neared the table. He’d just finished his last bite of cobbler. “Would you mind assisting us with the second tray? Rhoda—”
“Certainly.” He smiled.
“I could help, Father.” Wron pushed back his chair.
“No, sit down,” Walter said.
ΦΦΦ
We served Knot first. Duron even unlocked his cell door.
“It is good to see you, Dory.” Knot eyed me closely. “You are pale and thin.”
“So are you.” I handed him a glass of milk.
“And I will add cheeky as well. Several days ago, Rhoda informed us that you made it home to us, alive.”
“Today is her first day up, Knot,” Walter said. “Do not feel left out.”
“I want to hear all about it, and so far, I’ve heard only snippets. You must visit me tomorrow.” Knot selected the largest piece of cobbler on the tray and walked toward his cot. “Bring some of Rhoda’s peppersniff cookies.”
“I’ll bring midmorning tea, Knot.” I smiled.
“No, she won’t be doing either,” Walter said, clearing his throat. “As soon as you finish your dessert, Knot, you will return to your old job.”
While Knot met Walter’s gaze, Rhoda and I glanced at one another.
“An answer to a three-year prayer!” she gushed.
Tears filled my eyes. This was what Walter, the dear, sweet man that he was, wanted me to witness.
“Is my old room still available?” Knot asked.
“Yes.” Walter nodded.
“Then tomorrow morning, Dory and I will catch up on her news at the dining table in the Great Hall.”
“Dory sits with us in the kitchen.” Narrowing her eyes, Rhoda tilted her head.
“Walter, schedule the tailor; none of my old clothes will fit. Rhoda, make some of your peppersniff cookies.”
“I’ve not made them even once since you have been in prison.” Rhoda peered at Walter. “I have been on strike.”
Weary but elated, I cupped my arm in Walter’s and leaned against him. Rhoda’s brows gathered for a moment before she retrieved the dishes from Knot’s cell.
“I believe you’ll need assistance up the stairs,” Walter noted.
“Yes, but it was worth it.” My first day up was ending on a very good note.
ΦΦΦ
Happy with the world, I sat on the royal couch and stared into the fire. Walter had finally released Knot. My first day up had been both emotionally and physically exhausting. I almost fell asleep.
“I’m almost too tired to get up,” I admitted to Eunice.
“Pretend you are asleep.” She winked.
I rested my head on the couch arm and, in my pretending, nearly fell asleep again.
“Wron, come here, please,” Eunice said, across the Great Hall. He was near the piano studying a wall map.
He drew near. “What is it, Mother?”
“Can you carry Dory to bed? Your father will throw his back.”
“Mother!” Wron groaned under his breath. A slight pause was followed by the sound of his knees cracking, and then he carefully picked me up in his arms. With one eye barely opened, I glanced up at him. As he carried me across the hall and down the corridor, he did not look down at me once. In my room, he laid me down on my bed and placed the covers over me.
“Thank you, Ivan,” I said as he retreated from my room.
Of course it irked him. He lit the candle near my bedside. With only one eye open, I looked up at him.
“I am not Ivan,” he said.
“You’re right.” I feigned surprise. “Ivan cannot speak. You see, when someone dropped me on my bed and crashed the covers to my head and did not bend to kiss my cheek or whisper sweet dreams, I thought of course it must be Ivan. But even Ivan would have been sweeter.”
He wanted to shake me, but my shoulder was injured. Instead, he blew out the light and closed the door behind him. A thud followed, as he leaned against it.
In the dark, I found a match and thought of relighting the candle. If my beloved would at least be kind to me, I’d end what had been a wonderful day on a blissful note. The door reopened, and then his knees cracked as he knelt beside my bed. I sat up and struck the wooden match against my metal bed frame before I relit the candle.
In the candlelight, I pretended surprise. “Oh, it’s you. I thought it might be Ivan again.”
“What I’m going to say is difficult.” His chest expanded.
I knew by the tremor in his voice that what he had to tell me was not good news.
“You’re about to break my heart?” I bit my lower lip.
“Yes, I’m sorry.” He gazed sadly in my eyes. “Princess Alia will arrive within four days and…”
“And you don’t love me?” I fingered the dark bedcovering.
“I did not say that.”
“You love me, but not enough.”
He bowed his head. “I was afraid you were dying, and I gave in to my fear—”
I interrupted his heartbreaking confession. “I’m glad you told me the truth, Prince Wron.” I inhaled deeply. “Tell your father there is a piece of land I fell in love with when I was in Evland.”
“Why did you call your father Felix?” He swallowed.
“When did I do that?” I did not remember.
“When you were delirious, you called him Felix. I have never referred to my father as Walter.”
“Perhaps it was due to my delirium.” I held the four fingers against my leg. Lie number four.
“I am not certain if you will go away.”
His feelings for me were confusing. Did he love me?
He sat on the edge of the mattress and looked across the room toward the arched window. “My parents and many others love you. You can continue to play piano and have a good life.”
“I may only be half as good as I used to be.”
“My parents’ love for you extends beyond your piano playing.”
He sounded so sure.
He’d hit a soft spot. I blew out the candle.
“It is not fair, Dory. I have always tried to be honest, and now that she is almost here, you demand my heart.” He remained by my side.
“I know. I ask too much . . .” I stopped myself.
Wearily, he rose and exited the room. I stared at the ceiling in the dark. Did he love me? Really love me? Was I asking too much?
ΦΦΦ
In the middle of the night, two people wearing long white nightgowns stood at the foot of my bed. “It’s only us,” Eunice whispered.
Half-asleep, I sat up against the headboard. The pain of forgetting not to use my shoulder made me wince. It was the first time I’d seen Eunice with her hair down. Her thick white hair nearly reached her waist. Had she not spoken, I might not have recognized her.
“It’s only us. Rhoda is an amaz—” Eunice was interrupted by a rumbling snore. “Very loud snorer.” She waved a hand for me to follow them. “We’re too close to Wron’s room.” I shrugged on my robe and started after them down the corridor past the entry to the Great Hall and around the maze-like bend.
A fire in the hearth and dark green drapes warmed the spacious room. Walter and Eunice returned to their king-sized bed while I sat upright in a dark green velvet chair, which was unlike any of the other furniture in the castle.
“I take it that Queen Eunice knows.” I looked at Walter.
“I’m sorry, Dory . . . Alia. She knows me too well.” His cheeks bunched. “When one’s own wife is involved, it’s much easier to share a secret than to keep one.”
“I must tell you, I still cannot believe it! But I think your plot to see if you could love each other is absolutely marvelous.” Eunice beamed. “I have always been a romanticist.”
Her response warmed my heart, but sh
e was misguided. “I had no plot. If it had not been for the swamp pox, I would have told all of you much sooner.”
“He loves you, Dory.” Eunice shook her head. “He is torn between his obligations and his love for you.”
I closed my eyes to my most recent wound. “He told me tonight how he behaved in Evland was out of fear and guilt.”
“He is betrothed to Princess Alia,” Walter said. “Both of you have forgotten that two vast kingdoms will become one powerful—”
“You were already allies.” Eunice waved a hand.
Tears sprang to my eyes, and for once, I did not hide my pain. “But to just tell him who I am is too simple now.”
“I agree. You are a romanticist, like me.” Eunice smiled softly at me. “We have much to plan.”
“He’s a royalist, not a romanticist.” Walter shook his head. “He’s being responsible, as he should be.”
Eunice lifted a finger thoughtfully to her lips. “Too bad we already did the Summer Ball. It would have been perfect.”
Chapter Fifteen
Upon Knot’s request, Rhoda made Giant Cakes for breakfast. I set the glass pie plate down in front of Walter, while Rhoda delivered the others.
“There are land disputes. I’ll be back for dinner,” Wron said.
While I set the gravy boat filled with maple syrup on the table beside him, he looked straight ahead at his mother. When I brought a bowl of freshly sliced strawberries to the table, he stared at his plate. When I stood beside him and poured him a fresh cup of coffee, he closed his eyes.
“Perhaps Dory could accompany you to town today,” Walter said.
Wron chuckled. “It’s only her second day up. She should be resting.”
“Rhoda, is it too late to request seconds?” Knot interrupted their banter.
“Yes. Eat more fruit!” she bellowed from the kitchen.
“We don’t need to call the tailor.” Walter chuckled. “You’ll be wearing your old clothes in a week.”
Knot stuffed another bite of cake in his mouth and nodded.
The Piano Girl - Part Two (Counterfeit Princess Series) Page 12