“Yes, I am.” The girl smiled hesitantly. “Although it feels a little surreal. I’m Lady Westruther, by the way.” She shook her head, her expression bashful. “It still feels strange to say that.”
“Oh, are you newly married?”
“Yes, the wedding was only a few months ago, and the whole thing was a complete whirl.” She lowered her voice. “Six months ago I was one of the royal pastry chef’s apprentices.”
She laughed, an infectious, musical sound. “I don’t know why I’m whispering–it’s not exactly a secret.”
“Sounds like a romantic story.” Cordelia tried to keep any hint of jealousy out of her voice. Northhelm was her big chance for romance; she didn’t need to be envious.
“Very romantic.” Lady Westruther smiled dreamily. “But you should call me, Hanna. Just about everyone does.”
“Hanna?” Cordelia looked between her companion and Marie.
“Yes, I’m that Hanna,” said the girl, following Cordelia’s gaze. “I think I got asked to be an attendant as a Rangmeran counterpart to you and Princess Alyssa. Apparently, Ava was out of the question because it isn’t correct protocol to ask a reigning monarch to be an attendant.
“So now I’m a sort of stand-in princess. In case my life wasn’t already strange enough! My parents don’t know what to do with themselves now that their son has become a king. I can promise you, we never predicted any of this back when we were merely a guard and an apprentice.”
“A fairy tale, indeed,” said Cordelia, more and more curious to hear their story.
“Anyway, I didn’t mean to go on about myself! I came over because I saw the look in your eye, and I know what it feels like to feel a little lost and out-of-place. That’s how I’ve been feeling for the last six months!”
“Well, from what Marie said, it sounds like we’ll both get used to it pretty soon. Apparently we have endless fittings in our future.”
Hanna sighed. “I’m rather afraid she’s right. Although, I can understand why the seamstress wants to make sure everything is perfect. I would feel the same way if I was responsible for the cake.”
From her expression, Cordelia guessed that Hanna would have preferred to be in charge of the cake than be an attendant. “Do you get to bake now that you’re a lady?” she asked.
“Oh, yes. Stefan is wonderful about it. He loves my baking, and he always encourages me to take some time off in the kitchen whenever I start to feel overwhelmed. Mostly I only bake when we’re in our own home, though. I don’t get as much of a chance when we’re staying at the palace.” She pulled a face. “And with all the wedding preparations, I think we’ll be based here until after Midwinter.”
She shrugged. “Oh, well.” Her look turned mischievous. “I can always sneak down to the palace kitchens to visit my old friends there. In fact, I’ll see if I can make something delicious to bring to our next fitting.”
“That sounds nice.”
“I’ll sneak it in past the seamstresses, and you’ll have to promise not to spill anything on your dress!”
Cordelia giggled and promised, and the two girls parted in the friendliest of ways.
When she reflected on her day from her bed that evening, Cordelia concluded she’d had a productive time. After only one full day in Northgate, she’d already met both of the people Marie had mentioned in their first conversation.
But thoughts of Ferdinand brought with them thoughts of the second overheard conversation. Rafe had dismissed her concerns, but Cordelia couldn’t do so as easily. A lot of important people were gathering for the wedding. What if danger lurked and only she realised it?
Chapter 6
As she had predicted, the original snow had melted away. However, a second light snowfall from the night before had recoated the world in white. Cordelia admired the soft piles on the roofs and lanterns that she passed.
The powder softened the sound of the horses’ hooves against the cobblestones until they got away from the palace and into a more frequented part of town. Here, the traffic had long since melted the snow on the road.
Cordelia rode a plodding old gelding, chosen no doubt with safety in mind. She would have to talk to Marie about finding a more interesting mount for their next ride. She didn’t have the courage to tell William that she didn’t appreciate his choice.
Thankfully the scene around her was so new and enchanting that she found it easy to forget the inadequacies of her horse. And, she wasn’t the only one enjoying the season either. All around her, people smiled as they went about their business or called greetings to the young royals and their accompanying guards.
Children wove between the travellers, ducking away from any passing horses, their games and laughter floating above the ordinary sounds of the day. They all wore mittens and cute little knitted caps, and Cordelia smiled as she gazed down at her own gloved hands. Marie had loaned her a soft pair of leather riding gloves, and her fingers were much more comfortable than they had been on her last excursion.
They reached a large cobbled square, surrounded on all sides by tall, elegant buildings of grey stone. A bustling market had been set up in the square and most of the stalls sold seasonal delicacies or gift items. In Northhelm, as in all the Four Kingdoms, it was traditional to give loved ones gifts on Midwinter morning.
William signalled for Cordelia to dismount, and Marie and Rafe followed suit. They handed their reins to one of the guards and wended their way into the market.
Cordelia sniffed the air. “Something smells delicious.”
William grinned at her, and her heart melted a little. He had just returned from patrol, and he looked particularly handsome in his military uniform.
“Wait here,” he said and disappeared.
“What’s he doing?” she asked Marie.
“You’ll see.” From Marie’s anticipatory smile, Cordelia guessed she both knew and approved of her brother’s intentions.
She wandered a few steps away to examine a stall of intricate wooden carvings. Although she would be away for Midwinter, she had resolved to bring back presents for all her family.
Marie followed to peer at the wares over her shoulder.
“This is pretty.” She picked up a small wooden deer and turned it over in her hands. She looked up at Cordelia. “Your own people probably warned you but, just in case...Northhelm hold firmly to our traditions. And according to our customs, the giving and receiving of a gift between a man and a woman signifies an engagement. Even at Midwinter.” She smiled. “It’s a popular time for betrothals.”
Cordelia suspected from her tone of voice that a story lay behind the warning. Before she could ask about it, however, a call of greeting interrupted them. Two familiar figures approached, both loaded down with delightful smelling burdens. The contrast between the prince and his best friend was almost comical, but Cordelia still felt pleased to see Ferdinand.
“Look who I found!” said William. “And a good thing too, or I would have run out of hands.” Looking proud of himself, he handed Cordelia a mug and a paper cone before distributing the same items to the rest of the group.
Ferdinand stepped up beside her. “It’s mulled wine,” he said quietly. “And roasted chestnuts. Here let me hold the chestnuts for you.”
She smiled at him gratefully and wrapped both hands around her mug. The warmth managed to seep through both the cup and her gloves, and her fingers tingled pleasantly. She inhaled the scent and took a sip.
Ferdinand held the cone out towards her, and she carefully selected the plumpest looking chestnut. The delicious flavours complemented the warm beverage. “Where are yours?”
“I only bumped into William after he’d completed his purchase. And a good thing too, or we wouldn’t have had enough hands even between the two of us.” He smiled at her. “And I’m glad to miss out if it means I can be of service.”
“Thank you,” said Cordelia, touched by his thoughtfulness. “You can share mine, if you like.”
“Well, I won’
t say no to that,” said Ferdinand, popping a chestnut in his mouth. “They’ve always been a favourite of mine, to be honest.”
“So now I know why you were so happy to help me out!”
“You have to be resourceful when you’re in the military. It’s considered an excellent trait.” He helped himself to another chestnut.
“Hey!” William had turned from his conversation with Marie and Rafe in time to see his friend’s action. “I bought those for the princess.”
“Ah, but as your superior officer, I maintain the right to requisition your supplies at any time.” He crunched down on another nut. “And to rectify any ungallant behaviour that I observe.”
“Ungallant? Ungallant!”
“How was Princess Cordelia supposed to eat her chestnuts when she had both hands full? Plus, she needed her hands free to wrap around her mug–everyone knows mulled wine is for warming your hands as well as your stomach.” He patted his enraged-looking friend on the back. “Don’t worry, old chum, that’s why I’m a major and you’re still a private.”
“I’m the prince!”
Ferdinand shrugged. “Well, there wasn’t anything they could do about that now, was there?”
Cordelia, who’d been covering her smile with her hand, let out a little giggle.
“It’s a good thing he has you around to keep him in line, Ferdy,” said Marie.
Ferdinand gave a small half bow. “I do my best, Your Highness.”
“Why you, you…” William slung his arm around his friend’s neck and pulled it tight, giving him a small shake.
Ferdinand laughed and pushed his friend off. “Don’t worry, my superiors have assured me they have high hopes for you. With a bit more effort, you might make it to lieutenant one day.”
Marie gave a loud snort of laughter.
William drew himself up to his full height and turned his back on them both. “Please ignore my friend and my sister, Princess. I would be honoured to hold your chestnuts for you.”
“I’ll bet you would,” said Ferdinand, carefully choosing another nut. He made no move to hand the cone over.
William eyed him off but apparently decided that scuffling over the treat would be beneath his dignity. Instead he offered Cordelia his arm and began to point out stalls of interest. Ferdinand fell into step on her other side while Rafe and Marie drifted some way behind, their arms entwined and their heads close together.
Cordelia chose a beautiful pair of gloves to replace the ones she had borrowed and then stopped at a stall selling perfume in small crystal bottles. She occupied herself with smelling the samples on display while the stall holder dealt with a voluble merchant’s wife who had arrived before them. The princess had nearly decided on a particularly nice scent for her mother, when the other customer finally made her selection.
The stall holder, full of smiles, turned to wrap the purchased bottle in soft silk. As he did so, a rough looking man approached the back of the stall and said something quietly to the parfumier. The stall holder had his back to the merchant’s wife, but Cordelia, standing to the side, could still see his face. His smile fell away instantly, and a dark look came into his eyes when he saw the man. He answered him shortly, and even more quietly, and his response brought a dangerous look into the newcomer’s face.
Cordelia wondered idly who he could be. Perhaps the stall holder had hired him to perform some manual labour for him, and the other man felt he had been cheated? It made sense that the parfumier would be angry to be confronted at the market in front of potential buyers.
The stall holder finished wrapping the woman’s purchase and turned back around, his face transformed back into a smile. After thanking the woman and sending her on her way, he turned to Cordelia. He extended a standard greeting, his gaze assessing the value of her wardrobe and his expression turning greedy. He spared a small glance at her escort and then did a double take.
“Your Highness! What an honour. How may I serve you?” His attention had fixed firmly on William, but Cordelia noticed that his smile no longer reached his eyes. If anything, they looked nervous.
Her eyes flashed to the rough-looking worker at the back of the stall and then followed his gaze to the parfumier’s back. She couldn’t see what he was looking at. Carefully, so as not to draw attention to herself, she eased to the side. Picking up a new bottle to mask her intentions, she looked behind the stall holder. His arms were tucked behind his back, but his hands were waving frantically, gesturing for the other man to be gone.
“I have the finest perfumes in Northgate, Your Highness. Are you looking for a gift, perhaps?”
Was it her imagination, or had the parfumier put the slightest emphasis on ‘Your Highness’? The worker, who had been glaring sullenly at the stall holder’s hand signals, gave a small jerk at the words, before swinging around and lumbering away.
Well, that was odd, thought Cordelia, watching his departure. She looked down at the perfume in her hands, her brow creased. Somehow she wasn’t in the mood for shopping anymore. She shook her head in response to William’s questioning eyebrows. She would buy something for her mother another day.
William, transformed by the presence of the parfumier into a serious and dutiful prince, extricated them all from the stall with grace.
“That was well done,” commented Ferdinand as they made their way back towards their waiting guards and horses. “I didn’t think we were going to get out of there without either buying something or offending the man.”
“Did either of you notice anything odd about him?” asked Cordelia.
“Odd?” William laughed. “He was rather excessive in his enthusiasm for his wares–and in his enthusiasm for my rank. But, unfortunately, that’s not all that uncommon for a merchant in the market. Don’t they behave like that in Lanover?”
“No, it wasn’t that. It was the other man. The rough-looking one.”
William shrugged. “I’m sorry, I didn’t notice another man. But if you decide you want one of the perfumes after all, I can send one of the footman from the palace down for it. You don’t need to deal with him again.”
“Oh, no, it’s not that,” said Cordelia, but they had arrived at their horses, and William didn’t seem to hear her.
Marie and Rafe had reappeared, and they all began to mount. In the confusion, Cordelia let the matter drop, still not sure what she had seen.
Ferdinand appeared at her side to give her a leg-up. “Are you all right, Princess Cordelia?”
“Yes, I’m fine.” She frowned. “But I think something strange was going on at that stall. I know the parfumier seemed obsequious when he recognised Prince William but, at the same time, I thought he seemed uncomfortable with us being there.”
Ferdinand frowned at her. “You think he had something to hide?”
“I don’t know. Maybe?”
“I’ll ask around, if you like,” he offered. “See if anyone knows anything about him.”
“It might be nothing,” said Cordelia, afraid she was making a big deal out of nothing.
“Don’t worry, Your Highness, I’ll keep it quiet.”
The group of riders began to move, and Cordelia glanced over her shoulder at the receding figure of Ferdinand. He was watching them ride away with a look of thoughtful concern. A pressure she hadn’t even noticed lifted. Someone was taking her seriously.
Chapter 7
When they rode back through the palace gates, chaos confronted them. Riders and grooms crowded around several carriages, and servants carrying bags weaved through the milling horses.
“Woah!” Rafe, who was leading the way, pulled his horse to a sudden halt. “It looks like someone else has arrived.” He stood up in his stirrups, trying to get a better view. “I think that’s an Arcadian carriage.”
“Alyssa!” Marie slid down and ran off into the crowd.
Rafe swung down as well and captured her reins. He started waving for a groom, clearly eager to be off after Marie. Cordelia made no move to follow their le
ad. She felt much safer on the back of her horse than fighting her way through the crowd.
Rafe finally caught someone’s attention and managed to offload both horses. As he disappeared, William pulled his mount up next to Cordelia.
“I take it that’s Princess Alyssa.” At Cordelia’s questioning expression, he pointed towards the other side of the courtyard.
She followed his arm and managed to locate Marie who was embracing a shorter girl with a bright smile. A tall young man with dark hair and brilliant blue eyes watched them fondly. She could only assume he was Prince Maximilian.
Rafe appeared at their side just as a piercing scream yanked her attention to the far side of the courtyard. A loud whinny rang through the suddenly hushed crowd, and then pandemonium broke out.
A large chestnut stallion reared. A groom went flying, colliding with a maid carrying a large case. Both disappeared from view.
Several people rushed to help them before screaming and scattering as the chestnut charged forward. Cordelia followed the animal’s trajectory and gasped. The horse was racing straight for the four royals who had turned towards the commotion.
William swore and spurred his own horse forward, but he had no chance of making it through the crowd in time.
“William, stop!” she screamed, worried he would trample someone.
He groaned and pulled up, recognising the danger.
Cordelia’s eyes flew back to the charging horse. She gasped again.
Prince Max had jumped directly in the path of the charging stallion, wildly waving his arms. In only a second the horse would be on top of him, and he would be trampled beneath its hooves. But then he roared, the sound loud even above the hubbub of the panicking crowd.
The animal hesitated and swerved aside at the last possible second, its mad dash slowing.
Rafe darted forward, taking the opportunity to grab the end of a rope trailing from its halter. He hauled back on it, throwing his whole body into the effort. The horses’ head pulled to the side, and it reluctantly came to a halt, its sides quivering.
A Midwinter's Wedding: A Retelling of The Frog Prince Page 4