The carriage finally came to a stop. No words were exchanged between her kidnappers, but someone opened the door with a click, and the one that smelled like sweat lifted her again and gently carried her out. He didn’t set her down, though, until he had crossed a wide expanse outside and then moved into the warmth of the indoors. Even there, he continued to carry her up several flights of stairs and through a number of turns, until she was finally placed in a chair. When her blindfold was removed and her legs unbound, she blinked in the bright light of countless candles set all about in a very large room. And across from her, in a chair of his own, sat the duke.
“Hello, Miss Eva. Welcome to Monte David.” He stood and gave her a short bow before sitting again and pouring himself a cup of tea. Then he poured a second. “Cream?”
Eva watched him warily. She’d thought him odd at the party, but now she could see that he was stark raving mad. He had to be. No sane man would kidnap a girl and then offer her tea.
“You really ought to try the cream,” he said when she didn’t reply. “Here, I’ll show you.” He began to pour a thick stream of white liquid into her cup.
She probably should have been more watchful of what he was putting in her tea, but as her eyes adjusted to the brightness, she couldn’t help being distracted by the sheer opulence of the room.
The room itself was three times the size of the one she’d occupied back in their mansion in Astoria, with balconies on opposite sides, a bed larger than she’d ever seen before, not one but two vanities, and random couches and chairs and tables scattered about the room. There were three chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, and everything was covered in either gold or silver. On the vanities were spread a vast assortment of jewels, silver, and gold in a wide array of rings, bracelets, necklaces, and earrings. What caught her attention most, however, were the two harps, one on each balcony.
The harp on the balcony that faced the mountain was silver. From her seat inside, she could see that its column, crown, and neck were covered with rubies of every shape and size. And though the other harp was farther away on the other balcony, she could see that it was gold, and she was fairly certain that it was covered in emeralds.
“ . . . if you can see the bottom of the teacup, there’s not enough cream. But if you cannot see past the surface of the tea when you place a spoon inside,” the duke said, fastidiously studying his cup as he demonstrated, “then you have too much.” He looked up at Eva, a brilliant smile on his face. However, it melted quickly. “My dear, are you listening?”
Eva slowly shook her head. “What is this place?” Then she looked at him directly. “Why am I here?”
“Eva,” he took her hands in his.
She would have yanked them out, except for the fact that she was still bound at the wrists.
“I have just explained and shown you an example of how to pour the perfect amount of cream. If you can’t listen to something as simple as—”
“I know how to pour tea.”
“Yes, but if you would just watch—”
“Sir!” Eva did her best to yank her hands back. “My family may have been woodcutters once, but I was trained by the most sought-after governess in all of Astoria. I know exactly how to pour cream. What I want to know is why you kidnapped me and what I’m doing here.”
Though she hadn’t found him particularly attractive at the party, Eva now noticed how annoyingly round the duke’s head was as he nodded sympathetically in response to her questions. His ears were also around, as was his midsection, particularly so for a man of his age, which she guessed to be about twenty and five. The only thing about the duke that didn’t seem well rounded was his ability to think. That seemed to go in only one direction.
He stood and put his hands behind his back. “When your most excellent cousin introduced us at the dance, I believe she mentioned that I am next in line for the Guthwardian crown. Meaning, if King Eston cannot find a suitable wife and produce an heir, the throne will fall to me.” He turned and fixed her with a steady gaze.
Eva watched him for a moment before she realized he was expecting a response. The words on the tip of her tongue were not appropriate for a lady to use, so she stayed silent and waited for him to go on.
Still, he kept his gaze steady. “Does that not impress you?”
Eva felt her jaw drop. Was he in earnest? “Sir, you have abducted me against my will. Nothing you say is going to impress me.”
He gave a start, his eyes wide as though this surprised him. Finally, he began again. “Being raised in such a forward-thinking and modern kingdom as Astoria, you may not be aware that not all kingdoms are as civilized as yours. I don’t know if you know this, but the thick red clay that my countrymen call soil might be good for agriculture, but it inhibits most use of magic.”
Despite her resolve to remain unmoved, Eva did find herself a bit curious at this. She had wondered over the past year at the lack of fairies or any sign of their existence, so his explanation about the soil made sense. Not that she had missed the magic at all.
“Even more infuriating is the fact that our king and people seem completely at ease with the shortfall. Against it, even! I’ve told my cousin that there are ways to remedy the soil shortcoming if only people are willing to take advantage of them. But with most of our people content with their lot as farmers and millers and all sorts of common rabble, convincing anyone that we need magic has been a nearly hopeless cause.” He paused to take a sip of tea. As he did, Eva tried not to let him see that she had finally managed to loosen one of her wrist bindings. To her relief, as soon as he was done swallowing, which was a rather loud process, he continued, hardly glancing her way.
“Though I was never content with Guthward’s contentedness, I, too, was unaware as to just how far behind the rest of the world we had fallen. Until . . .” his green eyes took on a dreamy look, “I went to the university in Astoria.”
Eva wanted to gag. He looked as though he might break into song.
“It was there that I learned just how much magic had to offer. I attended classes on trolls and fairies and even more minute details such as fairy gifts and wishes, and the magic objects they bestow.”
“What were you studying?” Eva asked.
“Economics.”
“And you were studying magic?”
“The university’s library had a large selection of books on the subject, so it isn’t that odd. Anyhow, that’s beside the point!”
“You tried to get a fairy godparent, didn’t you? But you were rejected.” Eva smirked.
Her abductor looked slightly ruffled. “The longer I studied, the more I realized the danger my kingdom was in. It would be nothing for another kingdom to gather some fairies and swoop in and take us in our sleep, completely unaware.”
“Apparently, you have very little experience with fairies.” Her family could barely manage one, let alone an army.
“So as soon as I was finished with my studies, I went straight to my cousin and described to him exactly what we needed to do to fortify our borders.”
“I take it that he paid you no heed?”
“He laughed at me! Even when I described to him all the grotesque ways we might be overrun by trolls, he only waved my fears aside. ‘We’ve lived this way since Guthward become its own kingdom,’ he said. ‘No reason to upset folks when magic is barely usable here.’”
Eva sighed. Despite her earlier success with the rope on her right wrist, the one on her left refused to budge. “I still don’t see what any of this has to do with me.”
He knelt beside her. His breath smelled like old cheese. “I was also in Astoria when you were bestowed with such a wonderful gift! I heard about you, and immediately, it was clear that you were destined to be mine!” His voice dropped to a whisper. “You and I are going to be in Guthwardian history books from now on.” He leaned in closer and whispered, breathing all over her face in the process. “We’re going to bring magic to our kingdom, and doing thus, we shall save it fro
m future disaster!”
Eva tried to lean back. “But what can I—”
“Your gift, Eva! Your gift!”
Eva tried not to show how terrified she was fast becoming. “You don’t even know me,” she whispered. “You don’t know what I can do.”
At this, the stubby man beamed before pulling out a ledger from beneath his cloak. Opening it, he pointed with his finger to the top of the page so she could see. “Eva,” he read, “second daughter of woodcutters in Astoria. Assigned a fairy godfather. Gifted by fairy godfather, can make plants grow or wither,” he looked up, “by playing the harp.”
Eva stared in horror. “You keep records on me?”
He snapped it shut. “See how much you mean to me already? I don’t keep records on just anybody.” When Eva couldn’t bring herself to respond, he reopened the ledger and perused it until he stopped and nodded to himself. “Quite right. Eva, darling, we shall rest tonight, but tomorrow we will begin.”
“Begin what?”
He walked over to the silver harp on the west balcony facing the mountain. “Every evening, you will play a bitter song on the harp facing the mountain. Every morning, you’ll begin by playing a sweet song on the harp facing east.”
Eva glanced back at the mountain range through the west balcony. Though she couldn’t see well from where she was sitting, the mountains, which were flat and hardly tall enough to be considered real mountains, seemed to end right behind the house or whatever it was that she was in. On the east side, there were no mountains. Only rolling hills as far as she could see in the moonlight.
“Why?” She narrowed her eyes. “What are we killing?”
“Don’t worry so much about what you’ll be killing. Think of it as creating open land to grow beans to keep the entire kingdom fed!”
She shook her head. “I’m not growing or killing anything for you.”
He froze, looking confused. “But if you don’t, I’ll have to punish your family. And that would make everything just awkward. Please don’t make me do that, Eva.”
Eva drooped in her chair, suddenly exhausted. She had just spent the last several hours racking her brains, trying to come up with some way to get away. And with just a few words, he had dashed every hope she had of escape.
“My dear!” He rushed to her side and knelt to the ground. “Don’t look so sad!” His eyes were suddenly bright, glistening with unshed tears. “It is all for the good of Guthward as a whole. I promise! Now . . . now if you’ll just . . . if you’ll just look around.” He gestured to the room around them. “Everything you see in here is yours. I tried to imagine everything a young woman might desire. You have every jewel of the rainbow on your vanities over there, and I have an extensive library in my study that you may visit if you wish. And . . . and here!” He bounded over to the large golden wardrobe standing against one of the walls. Throwing it open, he revealed dozens of dresses. “Every single one of these is yours!”
Through the tears that burned her eyes, Eva glared at him and the dresses. “Why are they all green?”
He beamed. “I like green.”
Eva rolled her eyes as he ran over to the far corner and pulled on a tassel that hung from the ceiling.
Two minutes later, a knock sounded at the door. He dashed over to open it and revealed a woman who looked to be in her fifth decade, holding a silver tray of pastries.
“This is Mrs. McConnell,” he said. “She’s my head housekeeper and can bring you anything your heart desires.”
“I want to be free,” Eva said, her voice shaking treacherously. “People like you are the reason my family sent me to this awful place.”
Making gentle shushing sounds, he knelt in front of her again and wiped the tears from her face with his thumbs. His hands were clammy. He laughed a little, as though he had any right to see humor in the situation. “Well, what do you know? My hands are all sweaty. You know, they say that the more you love someone, the more they make your hands sweat.” He smiled sweetly. “Isn’t that romantic?”
“No, that’s disgusting.” Through her tears, Eva stared at him, unsure whether her disgust or her horror was currently greater.
Mrs. McConnell briefly closed her eyes and shook her head. Eva didn’t blame her. She couldn’t imagine how awful it must be to have a master such as the duke. Unfortunately, she got the feeling she was about to find out.
The duke, meanwhile, had gone back to his ledger. Opening it up, he thumbed through it until another grin spread across his face. He cleared his throat and began to speak.
“I walked upon a dirty road.
I almost stepped upon a toad.
Such revelation made me sigh,
for I was all alone in life.
Just like the little slimy thing,
I had no one to make me sing.”
Eva sent a desperate look to the housekeeper, who simply continued to shake her head and purse her lips tightly shut.
“I dreamed of finding a girl of beauty
who’s small in frame, sees love as duty,
soft in form with eyes of blue.
Yours are not, but I suppose they’ll do.
When our children come to be,
maybe they’ll look a lot like me.
It would be such a pity
if they—”
“Children?” Eva shuddered. “Duke, I thought you wanted me to make plants grow or die or something of that nature. Whatever do you mean about children?”
“My dear Eva.” He put the letter down and put his moist hands on her face. His round eyes were even wider than usual, making him appear surprised. “I thought you knew.”
Eva shook her head emphatically.
He only held her face more tightly. “We are falling madly in love.”
Eva threw up.
3
That’s Not How This Works
Three weeks. It had been three whole weeks since the town dance, and only now was Jack feeling well enough to escape his house for the first time since then. His mother claimed that it was only the ague and that Jack was lazy for not venturing out sooner, but Jack wasn’t entirely sure that Tamra hadn’t slipped some poison into his butter truffles in retaliation for speaking with Eva. After all, Eva had never come back after she ran outside, and when he’d asked Tamra about her, all he’d gotten was a scowl and a sharp reminder to mind his own business.
He hoped Eva was all right.
He also hoped he’d get to see her again soon. But hours after returning home from the dance, Jack had fallen so ill that he’d been unable to walk and barely able to eat. And though he had very little recollection of the time he spent tossing and turning on his straw mattress, after being forced to stay inside with his mother Jack was ready to go just about anywhere. Unfortunately, he wasn’t prepared for the strange errand his mother gave him that morning after he stumbled into the kitchen for the first time in three weeks.
He stared at her in disbelief. “My ears must still be ringing from the fever. I thought you said you wanted me to sell the cow?”
“You’re not ill anymore, so I can only assume you’re just stupid and deaf. Yes, I want you to sell the cow. She’s run dry since the crops quit growing.”
Jack folded his arms across his chest. “I told you before, crops don’t just stop growing.” He fixed her with a knowing eye. “They will, however, stop growing if you forget to tend to them.”
“Unlike you and your good-for-nothing father,” she sneered, tossing her gray-streaked red hair with a sniff, “I’ve never been one to shirk my duties.”
Jack wanted to snort at this, but he knew the only thing it would get him would be a cuff to the ear. So he swallowed the words that he wanted to say and instead asked to see the cow.
“She’s out in the garden. Your brothers got her that far, but they couldn’t make her budge after that.”
“Ruining all your vegetables, I’m sure.” Jack shook his head with a smug smile.
But his mother didn’t smile back. �
�I told you, there are no vegetables to ruin! Now get the abominable cow and go sell her before we all die of starvation!”
“Yes, Mother.” Jack let out a deep breath and went to do as he had been told. For not the first time, he wondered how long a man of his age could expect to respect his mother without being required to obey her every ridiculous whim.
Of course, it didn’t help that she technically owned the land he and his brothers lived on as well. She had threatened to kick him off before, and she probably would have, had he not been the only one to work the farm.
“Ray! Larry! Where’s the cow?” He made his way out into the bright sunlight, blinking as he stepped outside. As soon as his eyes adjusted, he spotted two blond mops of hair in the part of the garden where the rutabagas should have been. As he drew closer, however, he noted with surprise that his mother had been right about the garden. Every single piece of vegetation had withered and was slumped against the ground. As he stared in horrified wonder at what had been his mother’s most prized possession, his little brothers came running up to him.
“What do you think?” Larry asked, his blue eyes shining and his mouth turned up in a mischievous curve. “It’s amazing, isn’t it?”
“It was amazing,” Ray muttered, “until we ran out of food.” He glared back at the garden with the unforgiving stare of a boy who was always hungry.
Jack scratched the back of his neck. “When did this start?”
Larry was fairly bouncing. “The day you got sick! Everything was normal when evening fell, and then the strange music came from across the plains—”
“Strange music?” Jack looked out over the rolling hills that surrounded them. “I thought that was my fevered imagination.”
“Nope.” Ray shook his head. “It happens every night, just after sunset.”
An Unnatural Beanstalk: A Retelling of Jack and the Beanstalk (Entwined Tales Book 2) Page 4