Cordelia knew that Celeste was his favourite–they were the closest together in age and had been the best of friends before the curse–but in that moment she didn’t care. After several more heartbeats, she drew a deep breath and stepped back.
“Feel better now?” he asked, the usual teasing light in his eyes.
“Much,” she said, her own smile returning.
A voice next to Rafe chimed in. “What a delightful brother you are! So understanding. William should take lessons.”
Rafe laughed while Cordelia took in the tall girl standing next to him.
“Believe me,” he said, “with three younger sisters, I long ago gave up on understanding. I settle for general sympathy, and it seems to be well received.” He puffed out his chest in what was clearly meant to be a joking way. “I’m rather a favourite, you know.”
Realising that the girl must be Princess Marie, Cordelia rushed to back him up. “It’s true. Everyone back home loves Rafe.”
He grinned. “Well, those who don’t think me entirely too frivolous and light-hearted, anyway.”
Cordelia waved her hand dismissively. “You’re forgetting, Clarisse isn’t at home anymore–she lives in Rangmere now.”
Rafe snorted and then looked at Marie. “You’ll understand when you meet the rest of my siblings. Clarisse is my oldest sister and the one who most disapproves of my frippery self. All of us younger ones like to make fun of how seriously the older ones take everything. I guess it comes from all that responsibility.”
Marie raised one eyebrow.
“Not that I’m in any way lacking in responsibility, of course,” Rafe hurried to add.
For a brief moment, Cordelia worried that Rafe had gotten himself betrothed to someone who expected him to be serious all the time. That was a relationship that would never work.
Then Marie laughed. “Of course! The height of responsibility. It’s what I’ve always most admired about you. You would never do something foolhardy and risky for the sake of adventure.”
Cordelia breathed a sigh of relief. Marie’s irony suggested she knew him pretty well.
Rafe’s eyes laughed back at Marie, and he reached out and grabbed her around the waist. He tried to pull her closer, but she giggled and struggled out of his arms.
“You’re supposed to be introducing me to your sister, remember?”
“I’m doing a rather poor job of it, aren’t I?” He turned and gestured towards Cordelia. “May I present my sister, Princess Cordelia. Dellie, may I present my betrothed, Princess Marie.”
The two girls smiled and gave each other small curtseys.
“It’s an honour to be here, thank you for inviting me,” said Cordelia, remembering her manners.
But a moment later, excitement swept her away, and she couldn’t help adding, “I’m so happy to finally meet you. I’ve been wondering what you would be like the whole way here. I can’t say I’m that excited to acquire yet another sister, but I know that if Rafe’s chosen you, then you must be good fun.”
A throat-clearing from behind them made her subside, yet another blush tinging her cheeks.
Rafe turned at the sound and cried, “Priscilla!” Ignoring the older woman’s murmurs of protest, he embraced her enthusiastically.
She tut-tutted and shook her head, reaching up to straighten her hair.
“Really, Raphael, I was hoping you might have gained some decorum while you were away.” Her tone suggested disapproval, but Cordelia could detect the glimmer of affection in her eye. It wasn’t only among his younger sisters that Rafe was a favourite. Most of the palace staff loved him, too.
Priscilla was always reprimanding Rafe, and he was always laughing back at her. And, somehow, she seemed to love him for it. Cordelia sighed. She could only imagine the response if she tried to laugh at Priscilla. Instead she had to settle for occasionally getting Rafe to intervene on her behalf.
“It’s lovely to meet you both,” said Marie. She smiled at Priscilla and then turned back to Cordelia. “And unlike you, I only have a brother, so I’ve been looking forward to meeting Rafe’s sisters. I can’t imagine what life must have been like with seven of you! I asked Rafe if any of his Lanoverian friends were coming for the wedding, but he said none of you ever needed to make special friends. Not when you had each other.”
Cordelia smiled. The young Lanoverian royals had earned something of a reputation for mischief in their childhood. Of course, Marie had grown up a royal too. She must know how hard it was to form true friendships when you were so set apart. The Lanoverians had always relied on each other for company. Cordelia could no more imagine having only one brother than Marie could imagine being one of seven.
But then, from all reports, Marie’s older brother, William, was as handsome and charming as princes were supposed to be. She had to admit to having indulged in a daydream or two about him during the travel to Northhelm.
She would be the only single princess at the wedding, and William would one day be a king. Now that Clarisse’s husband, Prince Konrad of Rangmere, was dead, not even the oldest Lanoverian princess could claim that she would one day be a queen.
Imagine if William chose her. She would surpass all her sisters. Much more unlikely things had happened, after all. Prince Maximilian of Arcadia had even married a woodcutter’s daughter.
The pretty daydream collapsed at the sound of another throat-clearing from behind her. Cordelia realised she still hadn’t replied to Marie.
“That’s kind of you. And as official representative of the Lanoverian royal family, I can assure you that we are delighted to welcome you into our ranks.” There. That had sounded appropriately formal. Hopefully Priscilla would be pleased.
“Thank you, Cordelia–do you mind if I call you Cordelia?”
“No, not at all.”
Marie slipped her arm through Cordelia’s. “And please, call me Marie.” She began to lead the way through the large entrance hall. “I’m going to show you to your room, and I’ve told Rafe he’s not invited.” She threw a teasing smile over her shoulder at Cordelia’s brother. “I want to hear every embarrassing story you can remember from his childhood. He’s already pried far too much information out of William and Ferdy, so I need ammunition of my own.”
“Ferdy?”
“Ferdinand. He’s the eldest son of the Marquis of Montrose and William’s best friend. You’ll meet them both soon enough, and then you’ll see why I’m so glad to have another girl arrive. I’ve been rather outnumbered.”
Her smile seemed warm and genuine, and Cordelia found it easy to smile back. She suspected Marie’s comment was intended to put her at ease–it was impossible to imagine this tall, confident girl unable to hold her own. Cordelia appreciated it anyway. People didn’t normally go out of their way to accommodate her.
Some of the warm glow from earlier returned. She just wished she could stop her mind returning to the man from the courtyard. Had the idea of speaking to her really been so off-putting that he had needed to run away?
Part of her wanted to ask Marie about him, but a bigger part wanted to forget the whole thing. She put him out of her mind yet again, but an uneasy feeling remained. Something else was bothering her. She traced the feeling back to its source–yet another memory from the courtyard. This time, it was the strange conversation she’d overheard from the carriage.
The whole thing had been so vague that she didn’t see how she could ask Marie about it. Her curiosity and discomfort didn’t abate, however.
The noble and his companion had been talking about arrivals and the other kingdoms. Perhaps if she turned the conversation in that direction, she could get some more information without actually mentioning the overheard exchange.
“I’ve been told to pass on all sorts of apologies from the rest of my family,” she said to Marie. “They all wish they could be here, but it’s too far for them to come.”
“Of course, we all understand completely. They have to put their responsibilities first.”
Cordelia chewed on the inside of her cheek. “Who else is coming?” she asked. “Are any of the other royals able to make it?”
“Yes, indeed! There will be quite a crowd of us.” Marie looked pleased. “Max and Alyssa are coming from Arcadia. I can’t wait to see them again. Have you met them?”
“No, my sister Celeste was the one who went to Arcadia. I heard the story, though, of course. A woodcutter’s daughter! What’s she like?”
“Absolutely lovely. And very sharp.” Marie smiled reminiscently. “She’s a bit of a bookworm, but I have firm plans to keep her out of the library for this trip. Who knows when we’ll all have a chance to be together again.”
“I look forward to meeting her then. Are any of the other Arcadians coming?”
Marie shook her head. “King Henry and Queen Eleanor have only recently completed an extended tour of their kingdom and didn’t want to travel again so soon. Apparently the twins were wild to come, but their parents want to spend time with them, so they’re stuck back in Arcadia too.” From her affectionate expression, Cordelia guessed that Marie liked the two younger princesses.
A sudden fear gripped her. “Is Clarisse coming?” She tried to keep the dread out of her voice. What would Marie think of her for hoping the answer was no?
Cordelia’s older sister Clarisse was nice enough. As a small child, Cordelia remembered loving her and following her around. But the six year age gap, combined with the older princess’ serious nature, had increasingly made her more like a second mother than a sister. It didn’t help that Cordelia hadn’t seen her in years–not since she had married the Rangmeran heir. Her husband had died the year before, but Clarisse had chosen to remain in Rangmere to support the new queen. Clarisse’s presence in Northhelm would put a serious dampener on Cordelia’s moment of independence.
Marie shook her head again, and Cordelia gave a little sigh of relief. “Queen Ava and King Hans are coming, and they asked her to stay in Rangmere as regent in their absence.”
“So Ava and Hans will be here.” Cordelia tried to picture the young rulers and failed. “Have you met them before? Are they very…” she wrinkled her nose “…Rangmeran?”
“I met Ava once, a long time ago. I didn’t like her much back then, but I’ve heard she’s changed a lot. And I’ve never met Hans.”
Cordelia considered her words. They’d heard the same story in Lanover about Queen Ava’s transformation. It was hard not to feel wary of the Rangmerans anyway, though. Rangmere had always seemed like such a strong, cold place, and the old king had been aggressive–a destabilising force throughout the entire Four Kingdoms.
“Do you think it’s true?” she asked. “Has she really changed?”
“I think she must have,” said Marie slowly. “We had some recent trouble with rebels and Ava helped us. She didn’t try to take advantage of our instability, and she hasn’t asked for anything in return.”
“Well, that’s good, I guess.” The news didn’t entirely allay Cordelia’s nerves at the thought of meeting the young queen. “And I suppose she did marry her personal guard. I can’t imagine the old king doing something like that!”
“That’s true. Although Hans is some sort of hero in Northhelm, I believe. I should ask Hanna about him before he arrives.”
“Hanna?” Cordelia wished she was familiar with even one of the people Marie kept mentioning. She’d heard of the other royals, at least, but she’d never met any of them. And the Northhelmians were entirely unfamiliar. It made her feel out-of-place and awkward.
“Hanna is Hans’ sister. It turns out Hans’ family actually live in Northhelm. I think that might be the real reason Ava and Hans are coming for the wedding, to be honest.”
“Hanna and Hans?” Cordelia sighed. “I can see their parents had the same unfortunate tendency towards alliteration as ours.”
Marie glanced sideways at her, as if checking her seriousness, and then almost sagged in relief. “Oh, thank goodness, you think it’s ridiculous too! You wouldn’t believe how much trouble I have keeping you all straight. Rafe’s explained it all more than once, and I still get confused. I’ve been so afraid I’d call you the wrong name when you arrived.”
“Don’t worry, it wouldn’t be the first time.” Cordelia rolled her eyes. “Rafe got seriously lucky. And my oldest brother, Frederic. But the rest of us…” She shook her head. “Clarisse, Cassian, Celeste, Cordelia and Celine. What were my parents thinking?”
Marie laughed, and the two girls continued to chat amiably as they made their way through the palace. But the conversation only occupied half of Cordelia’s mind. Arcadia was sending their heir, and Rangmere their rulers. Were they the arrivals the mysterious voices were waiting for? And, if so, what exactly did the voices mean when they called the royals ‘infected’?
Chapter 3
Cordelia’s room shone warmly thanks to a large fire in the stone fireplace. The flames lent a cosy effect to the stone walls, and the green velvet on the bed and the small sofa looked inviting. She ignored the maids who were unpacking her bags under Priscilla’s watchful eye and crossed to the window.
The tall, arched opening gave her a good view of the snow that continued to fall. The sun had set and the whole city spread below her, lit by a golden glow from windows and the lanterns in the streets.
She gave a soft sigh.
“Is something wrong, Your Highness?” Priscilla once again demonstrated her ability to closely monitor Cordelia while appearing completely absorbed in some other task.
“Of course not. It’s like a magical wonderland out there.”
“Cold, wet stuff, snow.” Priscilla sounded displeased. “I, for one, am glad we don’t have it in Lanover.”
Cordelia rolled her eyes. Trust Priscilla to focus on the practicalities when confronted with such a sight.
The older woman walked up behind her and looked over her shoulder. “It is pretty, though.” Her soft words surprised Cordelia. Perhaps her maid had some sensibility after all.
A knock on the door interrupted them before she could respond, and a footman announced the evening meal. Marie had offered to have a tray sent to her room if Cordelia felt too tired from the journey, but she had refused. She wanted to see Rafe again and hear all his news.
Or, at least, that was what she told herself. The fact that Prince William would be there had absolutely nothing to do with it. She glanced down at her elegant gown, glad that she’d taken the time to get changed. Unlike Northhelm, Lanover wasn’t known for its formality, so Cordelia had endured several sessions from the etiquette master on northern customs before leaving. Her parents didn’t want her disgracing her kingdom.
Given that Lanover was the richest of the Four Kingdoms, if there had been more time, Cordelia could have easily convinced her mother that she needed a whole new wardrobe for the trip. As it was, however, she had to be satisfied with her sister’s efforts. They had pooled their resources and come up with a respectable collection of gowns. The dress she wore now belonged to Celeste, and wearing it gave Cordelia confidence.
“You look very neat,” said Priscilla approvingly.
Cordelia looked down at her ensemble again, assailed by doubt. Neat wasn’t exactly the adjective she’d been going for. But after a moment she shook her head and stepped out of the room anyway. Hopefully Priscilla was simply being Priscilla.
Celeste had assured her that the gold would make her darker skin shine beside the pale northerners and bring out the golden flecks in her hazel eyes. She trusted her sister more than she trusted Priscilla.
Her confidence was rewarded when she entered the small, formal dining room used for family meals by the Northhelmian royals. The occupants of the room had grouped themselves around the fireplace at one end of the room, awaiting her arrival. When she appeared in the doorway, the tall young man standing with Rafe and Marie started visibly. All three of them moved towards her, but the stranger, who had to be Prince William, easily beat the other two. Cordelia hardly ha
d time to register his presence before he was bowing over her hand.
“Princess.” He dropped the lightest of kisses on her knuckles. “Word of your beauty has spread far and wide, but I see that the stories do not do you justice.”
He looked up and met her eyes, his own a beautiful, sparkling blue.
She blushed. The moment was exactly how she had imagined, right down to his dark gold hair and broad shoulders. Thank goodness none of the others came, she thought and then felt guilty for her selfishness. Celine, in particular, had been so disappointed to be left behind.
“I expected you to come up with something better than that,” said Marie, breaking the moment by sliding her arm into Cordelia’s. “It’s not very original.”
“How can I be original when I’m overwhelmed by so much beauty?” asked William.
Cordelia blushed again. Thank goodness the golden tones of her skin at least partially masked the colour. She didn’t want the prince to think she was young and inexperienced, unused to compliments. Even if it was entirely true.
Well, unused to compliments from handsome princes at any rate. There were always people hanging around a palace, looking for a way to get close to the royal family, and willing to flatter a naïve younger prince or princess to do it. All of the Lanoverian royals knew how to recognise and ignore such cajolery. Getting attention from someone who had nothing to gain by it felt entirely different.
Marie led the way to her parents and introduced Cordelia to King Richard and Queen Louise. The king gave her formal greetings, but the queen grasped her hand and smiled so warmly that she instantly put the princess at ease.
Marie then directed Cordelia to a place at the table, where she nearly dropped straight into her seat. Thankfully, Rafe caught her eye and gave her a warning look before she could embarrass herself. Remembering her lessons, she waited for the king to assist the queen and then sit himself before she pulled out her own chair.
The table was small enough that they were all able to carry on a single conversation, and Cordelia mainly kept quiet, focussing on her food and stealing occasional glances at Prince William. The prince, Rafe and Marie kept up a steady stream of light-hearted jokes, and Cordelia found it easy to blend into the background. It was what she was used to doing at home, after all.
A Midwinter's Wedding: A Retelling of The Frog Prince Page 2