The Piano Girl - Part Two (Counterfeit Princess Series)

by Sherri Schoenborn Murray

  Knowing you love me will make everything easier.

  If Princess Alia does not arrive tomorrow, may we meet at the fire? May we share the Yonder stars as I lie in the curve of your arm?

  Dory

  I walked across the hallway and slid the paper under his door for him to find in the morning.

  ΦΦΦ

  Dressing one handed was difficult. Buttoning the front of my blouse was painstakingly slow. Someone slid an envelope beneath the door. I stared at the cream-colored paper and smiled. It was from my beloved, the man I’d been betrothed to since shortly after I was born. I sat on the edge of my bed and opened my letter.

  Dory,

  I will be gone on business today. I will return late this afternoon. After dinner, you and I will slip away without my parents’ knowledge. I will think of tonight all day.

  Wron

  I reread the note two, three times; and then I placed it inside the cylinder for safekeeping.

  ΦΦΦ

  While I helped Rhoda serve breakfast, I learned that Wron had grabbed an egg sandwich before he’d left.

  “What business did Wron have today?” Walter grumbled. “Princess Alia could show up at any minute.”

  Eunice turned to me.

  I had no idea and shrugged.

  Rhoda carried a silver tray hosting a coffee decanter, creamer, and Needa. “He’s gone to Delfrey to get a wedding present for Lehto and me,” Needa said, with glistening eyes.

  Rhoda set the tray down beside Walter. He poured himself a large mug of coffee and added cream. “Why today, of all days?”

  “Now that I am married, I am the worst person to ask about why a man does what he does.” Needa curtsied. She stepped over the lip of the tray to move closer to Walter’s plate. “At this moment, Lehto is outside studying the roots of trees. My next home will not be a castle.”

  “Needa, as wives, we are not to complain about our husbands,” Eunice said kindly. “Wron is usually a better communicator than this. I do not like the mystery.”

  I agreed; the mystery was disconcerting.

  “How are things between the two of you?” Eunice eyed me.

  “Better.”

  Eunice’s mouth bunched. “Hmmph . . . perhaps we should not delay in telling him.”

  Needa strode across the table to stand near Eunice’s glass of pear juice. “Telling him what?”

  “Something very telling,” Walter said, from behind his morning paper.

  “Hmm . . .” Eunice tapped her mouth thoughtfully. “Perhaps you should arrive tonight, Dory.”

  My stomach knotted. I thought of our plans for an evening fire and looking at the stars. I knew of his love now; perhaps it was best that sharing the stars would not be bittersweet.

  “We have much to prepare then, don’t we?” I finally murmured.

  “Yes!” Eunice clapped her hands together. “We must take matters into our own hands.”

  ΦΦΦ

  Walter and Eunice wrote out speeches and practiced them aloud while I sat at the granite table and offered critique and encouragement. The sound of marching in the corridor announced Roger’s and two other guards’ entry into the Great Hall.

  “Your Highness, we have a visitor,” Roger said, his posture rigid, his hands at his sides.

  “Who now?” Eunice sighed.

  A visitor? I thought of Felix’s letter. But no, he’d gone to get Sadie.

  “Who?” Walter turned to face the men.

  “Another gypsy, Your Majesty, but he insists that you will know him.”

  “Make certain he has no weapons and have five, no, six guards escort him.”

  Walter returned to his speech writing. It was obvious by the way that he pulled at his hair that he very much disliked the writing and perhaps the presentation of speeches, as well.

  A wiry man was ushered into the Great Hall. He was indeed the lowliest of peasants. His mud-caked clothes were rags. But I rose from the table, drawn to him in a curious way. It was something about his hair.

  “Stay where you are, Dory.” Walter stiffly held out his arm.

  His hair, though very greasy, was parted on the same side as my father’s. His complexion was tinted the color of walnut and coated with a layer of dust and possibly blood.

  Despite Walter’s warning, I moved toward the peasant.

  “Dory, do not get any closer,” Walter commanded.

  My feet would not obey him. “Father…” I whispered.

  The gypsy smiled.

  “Dory”—Walter set down his quill and rose from the table—“Roger, get between them. It may be a trap.”

  Still the man smiled at me. Love was in his eyes. Before Roger could reach me, I threw myself against him and felt his chest cave with emotion. There was no doubt in my being that the man I hugged was my father.

  He held me and he held me, and like my sweetest memories, he whispered, “Everything is all right. Everything is all right.”

  ΦΦΦ

  My father’s tears dripped onto my face, and I knew his travels had been far more complicated than even he’d foreseen.

  “Roger, how many men accompanied him?” Walter asked.

  “Two. But from the lookout, there appear to be one to two hundred more men on horseback near the Delfrey hills. We believe he left his army behind.”

  Walter’s brows gathered as he drew closer. “You have my permission to speak.”

  “My my, Wally,” Father said. “The years have made you roly poly, and why is my daughter’s arm in a sling?”

  “Because she’s a lot like her father.” Walter chuckled and slapped my father’s shoulder. “You old coot. Did you travel all the way here looking like that?”

  “Yes. Word is there’s a merger about to take place. A king’s head like mine would be a nice trophy at this time.”

  “Everyone”—Walter held out his hand toward us as he turned to face those in attendance—“I want you to meet King Francis of Blue Sky, and his daughter, Princess Alia Dory Vankern Wells.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  My future country was awaiting my arrival, so the people of Yonder were summoned and gathered into the courtyard. From the balcony of their royal bedchamber, King Walter, with Queen Eunice by his side, made known our plan. Father and I waited in the wing.

  “We are fortunate, our good people, to be able to share with you one very fine secret,” Walter loudly announced. “My son is away on business today, and in his absence we will prepare the city for Princess Alia’s arrival.”

  “He’s in love with your servant, Dory,” interrupted a man near the front. I knew the voice; it was Raul’s from our reenactments at Peg’s.

  Demonstrating great patience, Walter waited for the murmurings of the crowd to dim.

  “Yes, Prince Wron is in love with our Dory,” Walter said. Then he beckoned for me to join them on the balcony. I was still in common clothes, with my hair loose about my shoulders.

  “What our son Prince Wron has not yet been made aware of”—Walter cleared his throat—“is that our Dory is his Alia.”

  A deep hush fell over the crowd as the people stared and then began to bow.

  “Princess Alia came to us nearly a month ago . . . covered in swamp pox sores.” Walter spoke loudly, employing both hands. “She did not arrive with an entourage of one hundred men like we’d anticipated. Instead, she arrived alone, a commoner covered in swamp pox, and unable to prove who she is. Several of our bordering countries are not in favor of this merger. We pray all of you are, as it will make our countries very strong allies.”

  A flurry of hats flew into the air and cheers of “Onderyay!” as the people celebrated the news. Walter waited patiently for the crowd noise to dim.

  “Why, Princess Alia?” asked Clarence from the mercantile. “Why did you not inform everyone when you first arrived?”

  I peered down at the sea of faces. “Because of my pox, I could not prove who I was,” I said in as loud a voice as I could rally. “And then, once I wa
s healed, I became afraid that I could still be deemed a counterfeit and abandoned to the hills. I have a birthmark beneath my chin that King Walter knew about, but fear kept me from revealing who I really was.” Tears stung the backs of my eyes, and I waited for the emotion to pass.

  “Forgive me, my good people, but I would not trade the past few months for anything. My father, King Francis, and Felix, my bodyguard, wanted me to have an adventure that would shape me into a better queen. When I contracted swamp pox, the plan went astray, and I became indeed a commoner amongst commoners. Because of this, I know your struggles and your dreams in a way I never would have or could have…” I shook my head, at a loss for words.

  I stared about me at the sea of faces, so many that I knew. Long, Leeson, Elza, Clarence, Peg… and my heart could not contain the vastness of the moment.

  I stepped away from the balcony, and Walter took my place.

  “Now . . .” Walter raised his hand. “No one is to say a word to Prince Wron about this. If anyone does, they will be thrown in prison, made to walk the treadmill, and only served drippy porridge for a month.” He cleared his throat. “At five o’clock this evening, I want you to line the streets in anticipation of Princess Alia’s arrival. Tonight, you’ll witness history when Prince Wron meets his future bride.”

  “But he’s already met her,” interrupted Peg, who had always been a bit slow regarding matters of the heart.

  “Yes.” Walter nodded. “But like most of us, Wron still does not know that Dory is Alia.”

  Awhs of understanding rippled through the crowd.

  “We have much to prepare,” Walter said. “Tonight, when you hear the church bells ring, please gather in the courtyard. And in the meantime, no one is to say a word to Prince Wron. No one.”

  ΦΦΦ

  Midday, Wron arrived home with three packages from Delfrey. No piano music filled the Great Hall. He paused in the kitchen doorway and scanned the room, hoping to find Dory. Jars of peaches lined the island. Rhoda cut butter into a large bowl of flour, and Needa sat nearby on her seesaw cutter chopping fresh herbs.

  “Are you making what I think you’re making?” Wron suppressed a smile.

  “I am,” Rhoda said.

  “You know that your peach pie is my favorite, and I know that you only make it for very special occasions.”

  “We are, uh, throwing Needa and . . . Lehto a belated wedding party tonight,” Rhoda said stiffly and wiped her forearm across her face.

  “Peach is also my favorite,” Needa said over her shoulder.

  He hoped the party wouldn’t last too late into the evening. He wouldn’t want anyone to notice when he and Dory stole away to the fire.

  “Where is Lehto?” he asked.

  “Building. He found a nice rabbit hole underneath the king’s elm tree.” Needa pushed off her toes as she lifted into the air. “He’s always been fond of elm trees.”

  Bending low, Wron set a silver-wrapped package on the floor near the gnome-sized blue door. “I bought you and Lehto a wedding present. Open it tonight after he’s had time to rest.”

  “Did you get me anything?” Rhoda asked. Flour marked her face and checkered apron.

  In the old days Wron had bought chocolate for Rhoda in Delfrey, but it was before he knew about her headaches. “Yes, Rhoda. Can you wait until tonight? Or would you like it now?”

  “Neither Rhoda nor I can wait until tonight.” Midair, Needa whined. “Tell us. Waiting is very hard for women—both giant and small.”

  He’d try and remember that. “Both gifts are practical.” He knew Needa would pester him until he told. “Needa, yours is a gnome-sized rocking love seat for outside. I thought Lehto and you could enjoy the evenings together.”

  “Thank you, Prince Wron,” she gushed. “You are so thoughtful.”

  “And Rhoda, I bought you a new hat for church.”

  “But I love my old one that you got me.” Rhoda’s large forearm muscles bulged as she worked the pastry blender into the flour.

  “Well . . . now you have two.” He placed the package on the counter. “You can save it for extra-special occasions.”

  “Tonight is a very special occasion.”

  “It is.” He smiled at Needa, who was still in her everyday clothes. “I would think you should be getting ready, Mrs. Cauvern.”

  “I will soon.” Needa bounced into the air.

  “You don’t happen to know where Dory is?”

  “No,” Rhoda said.

  “Maybe she’s sleeping,” Needa said.

  Wron tucked the small remaining present deep into his pocket. He walked into the Great Hall, where his mother sat knitting.

  “Do you know where Dory is?” he asked.

  “Sleeping.” Eunice pulled on her ball of yarn. “With Needa’s wedding party tonight, Dory wanted extra rest. She is still not entirely herself.”

  He nodded. He was still surprised that she’d recovered as quickly as she had. “Where is Father?”

  His mother looked around as if she had just noticed his absence. “There is something in town he went for…” She nodded. “We don’t have a gift for Needa either. I wish you would have let us know before you left for Delfrey. Shopping is so much better there.”

  Wron walked down the corridor to Dory’s room. His father disliked shopping, but he loved Needa. Wron sighed. He had not seen Dory today. He’d glance in on her while she slept. He knocked lightly before entering her room. The bedspread was perfectly smooth. She wasn’t anywhere. His heart quickened.

  He returned to where his mother was seated in the Great Hall. “Dory is not sleeping, or in her room.”

  Eunice inhaled deeply and nodded. “I promised I would not tell you,” she whispered.

  “Tell me what?” His shoulders dropped.

  “I can see that you are too worried for me not to tell you.”

  “I am.” He nodded. “Tell me.”

  “In your father’s absence, I gave my approval for Ivan to take Dory hunting. She hoped to shoot a chukar. Something about a midnight snack. It did not make sense to me, but she was unusually persuasive.”

  Wron chuckled with relief and sank down in a nearby chair. “Who will shoot it, Ivan or Dory left-handed?”

  “Dory thinks she will be the one to flush it, did she say?”

  “Ivan will shoot it then . . .” He nodded thoughtfully.

  “Do take a bath, Wron. Tonight will be a very special party for Needa and Lehto.”

  “Whose idea is this on such short notice?”

  “It was unanimous.” His mother focused on her lavender knitting.

  ΦΦΦ

  While Wron stood in his closet, mulling over which of his uniforms to wear, the church bells rang. With his own birthday only three days away, he felt surprised by his parents’ spontaneity in throwing Needa and Lehto a party. He combed through his dark hair and peered sadly into the mirror. One of the largest parties of his life would be soon. He sighed deeply and returned to the Great Hall.

  His father had returned from town, wearing one of his finest capes.

  “You look grand, Father.” He smiled and turned to see his mother enter the room in her peach organdy gown and fine jewels. “You look exquisite, Mother.”

  She regarded his dark uniform. “That is what I hoped you would wear.”

  “Is Dory back?” He looked back and forth between his parents.

  “No, I don’t believe I’ve seen her.” Walter cleared his voice and then strode out onto the terrace.

  “She’ll be back soon.” His mother patted Wron’s arm. “Maybe they’re having a difficult time flushing chukar.”

  Wron couldn’t help but feel anxious. He strode into the kitchen. Twenty beautiful peach pies cooled on the counter. Rhoda’s round cheeks were flushed beneath her new cream-colored hat with its large cluster of purple grapes.

  “Rhoda, I command you to relax. You have worked too hard today. Relax with us now and enjoy this joyous occasion.”

  Rhoda nodde
d. “Uh . . . Prince Wron, the coffee for your father is ready.” She looked down, running a rag over the splattered counter. “Can you deliver it to him?”

  “Yes, of course, Rhoda.” Carrying the hot cup of coffee by the handle, Wron walked through the Great Hall. His mother pointed toward the terrace, where Wron joined his father.

  “Thank you.” His father took the cup and set it on a nearby table. “Son…” His father peered over the balcony. “Something is happening. There appears to be a great commotion.”

  Below them, his countrymen gathered in the courtyard, while over the bridge, a legion of white-and-blue uniforms waited outside the castle gates. A large knot tightened in his gut.

  Roger entered the Great Hall.

  “I believe Francis and Alia have arrived.” His father patted him on the back. “The day we’ve been waiting for has finally arrived.”

  Roger halted in the doorway. “A large caravan has arrived from the north. Perhaps two hundred men in all.”

  Wron glanced south toward the aspen trees lining the river, where Dory and Ivan were hunting. There might not be a fire tonight.

  “Father, I can’t help but feel uneasy.” He tried to shake the heavy feeling.

  “I’m sorry, Wron, this is not a time to dwell on the past. Come, Eunice.” His father took his mother’s arm. Wron followed. Together the royal family walked through the underground passageway, and then up the stairs leading to a raised reception area. Soldiers lined the fortress walls, overseeing their safety.

  Thousands had quickly thronged to line the streets and fill the grounds.

  “Our country has gathered,” Eunice said with awe.

  Wron inhaled deeply. The response of his countrymen was overwhelming.

  “They have been waiting as long as you.” His mother patted his arm.

  “Where are Dory and Ivan?” He searched the sea of faces. “You’d think they’d see the commotion.”