Crawling out from under the bed, he tried to stay low so they wouldn't see him. He rounded the end of the last bed, only to see the trapdoor closing behind the last princess.
He dived for it, hands outstretched, but he wasn't quick enough. The trapdoor settled among the flagstones as if it had never been. Vasco raked his nails across the stones, to no avail. He didn't know the trick to opening the secret door.
He sat back on his heels, anger and despair warring within him. He should have been faster. Now he would waste another night.
As if by magic, the trapdoor rose.
"What are you doing?" Melania's voice demanded.
"I forgot my fan," Bianca said.
That was all the warning Vasco got before the trapdoor was thrown open and she burst out of the hole in the floor. She raced past him as if she couldn't see him, presumably in search of her fan.
Vasco took his chance and propelled himself through the hole in the floor. Rough steps had been cut into the stone, leading down into the darkness. With one hand on the damp, stone wall, he followed them down to where he could see a light flickering.
One of the princesses held a torch aloft, her face scrunched up in annoyance. "Do we have to wait for her?" the dark-haired girl, Melania, asked.
Another girl put a hand on her shoulder. "Yes, we do. It will take all of us to break the curse. Without her, we are only eleven. The spell calls for twelve princesses to free the twelve princes. Any fewer and they will still be trapped."
Melania grumbled something under her breath, then fell silent.
"I'm coming!" Bianca called from above.
All eyes suddenly turned toward Vasco, too quickly for him to hide, yet none of the girls reacted to the sight of him. They continued to stare expectantly at the steps behind him.
Figuring that the torch had blinded them so much that they couldn't see him, Vasco relaxed. It was only a moment before Bianca came down the steps, painted fan in one hand and a candle in the other. She walked to his side, so close she brushed his cloak, and waved the fan at her sisters. "See? I told you I would be quick. Ooh, are those the boats?"
As one, the girls turned away from her to stare at the lake.
Vasco couldn't believe none of the girls had seen him. Not even Bianca, and she'd touched him. Perhaps the cloak truly did make him invisible, like Kun had said. Still, it wouldn't do to be reckless. He waited for Bianca and her candle to lead the way before he followed, several steps behind.
The stone path was uneven and he stumbled frequently, wishing he dared to walk closer to the light she held. If only the world were a different place, where a soldier could walk arm in arm with a princess as equals. But it was not to be.
His distraction was almost his undoing. The path curved, but he had not seen it, and he fell headlong over a pile of rocks. The cloak's hood slipped from his head.
A moment later, Bianca cried out, "My light!"
The candle rolled down the path toward Vasco. Impossibly, the flame hadn't been extinguished. Which meant that if Bianca came chasing it, she would spot him instantly.
Vasco forced himself to his feet, pulling the cloak closed around him once more, as the candle came to a stop where he had lain only moments before. He edged along the path, which was scarcely wide enough for one, let alone two.
Bianca rounded the corner, too intent on her candle to notice her cloak brushing against his.
Vasco experienced a mad desire to reach out and wrap his arms around her, bringing her body against his and…then what? She would hardly consent to a kiss. He clenched his hands at his sides to stop himself from doing something else stupid.
"Must hurry…don't want to miss the boat," she murmured to herself as she passed.
Though he was certain the words weren't for him, Vasco obeyed them anyway, stumbling down the path to reach the other girls. More confident in his invisibility, he dared to stand closer than before.
"What is she doing? They are almost here!" Melania muttered.
Vasco followed the girl's gaze to the lake. The same boats he had seen vanish into the mist the previous night now approached the shore. A lantern hung at one end, while a dark-cloaked figure poled the boat at the other end.
The hair on the back of Vasco's neck prickled. Whoever was concealed by those cloaks brought an ill wind with them.
The first of the boats reached the shore and its captain leaped onto the sand, holding onto the lantern post so that the boat did not drift away. He let his hood fall back, revealing hair as long and pale as Bianca's. "Good evening, my beautiful princesses." He flashed a brilliant smile before bowing low. "Is it true that there are twelve of you this evening?" The eagerness in his tone set Vasco's teeth on edge.
"We were twelve, but Bianca ran back to get something," Melania grumbled.
"I am here!" Bianca's voice called.
Vasco wanted to move to the middle of the path to bar her way. Nothing good would come of this, he was certain of it. He must protect her.
The other girls closed around her, a gaggle of impenetrable geese, until they delivered her to the cloaked man.
"This is Bianca, newly arrived among us," Brenna said, pushing her forward. "With her, we are twelve."
"Such beauty," the man breathed, reaching for Bianca's hand. He bowed low over it. "Princess Bianca, I am Prince Corbin, and it would be my honour to be your escort tonight."
"But I thought I was going to – " Melania protested before Brenna hushed her.
"She would be delighted," Brenna said. "You have rendered her speechless, Prince Corbin. Bianca has spent all her life in the women's palace, where we see few men, but I am sure you will help her find her voice again."
Bianca had no trouble speaking to men, Vasco wanted to say, incensed at her sister's presumption, but once again, he was silenced by Bianca herself.
"I thank you, sir," she said, accepting his assistance into the boat.
More boats had come ashore during the exchange, and the girls spread out along the beach, one to a boat.
Corbin had already poled Bianca's boat away from shore – too far for Vasco to reach them. He cast about for another boat to board.
"You'll do as you're told," Brenna hissed as she shoved Melania toward one of the boats. "Prince Fiachra is just as handsome as his brother. You should consider yourself lucky to have a suitor at all. Why, your mother was a slave before my father took her for a concubine."
While Melania struggled and whined about her mother, Vasco crept into the boat Brenna evidently had in mind for the irritating girl. The cloaked man who stood beside it – Fiachra, Vasco presumed – only had eyes for Melania. The hunger in his gaze made Vasco feel queasy.
At a nod from Brenna, Fiachra seized the slight girl and deposited her in the boat, narrowly missing Vasco. Fiachra stepped aboard after her and quickly poled the boat out into deeper water.
Once again, the boats headed for the small, mist-shrouded island in the middle of the lake. Only this time, Vasco was with them.
Twenty-Six
Bianca wasn't entirely sure what to make of Prince Corbin. Between his perfect manners, outrageous compliments and the glittering coronet he wore on his head beneath the hood, he appeared to be the sort of prince only found in fairytales.
He was the complete opposite of all the men who'd come to the Summer Palace, trying to solve her sisters' mystery. Yes, even the opposite of Vasco. Where Vasco said little and behaved as though he felt he was out of place, Corbin smiled and laughed as if he was completely comfortable.
On a misty lake, late at night, carrying off a princess whose father would probably skin him alive if he caught Corbin, the man's smile never wavered until they reached their destination – the small island in the middle of the lake.
As he helped her out of the boat, Bianca glanced back. The Summer Palace wasn't visible through the mist. So close, and yet so far. She shivered.
"I should get you inside. It is warmer there," Corbin said, offering his arm. In his free han
d, he held the lantern from the boat.
Without his help and the light, she was bound to trip again, Bianca knew, so she tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow and allowed him to lead her away from the water.
Another boat crunched into the shore behind her, but Bianca's attention was drawn to the path ahead. Corbin led her up a slight rise to the bare peak of a hill, the highest point on the island. Torches glowed and danced in a circle around them as Corbin set down his lantern.
He reached down, grasped a ring set in a stone and heaved. It came up easily, tilting up to reveal that the slice of rock was fixed to a wooden trapdoor, the twin of the one in her bedchamber. Almost as though the same person had constructed them both. Though to what end?
“You look intrigued, princess. Wait until you see what awaits you downstairs,” Corbin declared, gesturing for her to precede him.
Descending into a dark cellar with a stranger didn’t seem like the wisest thing to do, but a glance back told Bianca that her sisters and their cloaked escorts were on their way here. They didn’t look worried.
She stepped inside, holding tight to the railing as she followed the steep spiral staircase down, down, down until she was certain she was below the surface of the lake. Yet the deeper she descended, the brighter it became. The mystery was solved when she rounded the last twist into a small subterranean chamber filled with candles.
Corbin was only a few steps behind her. “Let me take your cloak, princess.”
As he spoke, she was already unfastening the clasp, so it was a simple matter to shrug the garment off into his waiting arms. Bianca patted her hair carefully and straightened her dress, wishing she had thought to bring a mirror instead of a fan.
Corbin finished hanging her cloak up next to his, and turned to face her. He immediately dropped to his knees. “Princess Bianca, never have I seen such radiant beauty. You are an angel come to earth to tempt me, surely. I will not rest until you agree to be my wife.”
What? Bianca searched his expression for some hint that he was joking, for surely this was a jest. No man declared his love for a girl the moment he met her. And no sane woman would accept the proposal of such a fool.
And yet…the look in his eyes was so earnest, she was forced to believe he meant every word.
“I…am speechless once more,” she faltered.
“Beautiful Bianca, I understand. Take all the time you wish. But do not torture me for too long. I will not be willing to let you go tonight until I have received your answer.” Something flickered in his eyes so quickly Bianca wasn’t sure whether she’d imagined it or not. Whatever it was, it chilled her, for his words definitely carried a threat.
What would he do if she refused him? Would he hold her prisoner here until she changed her mind?
Aruna stepped off the bottom stair and allowed her princely escort – he wore a circlet, too, though of a different design to Corbin’s – to divest her of her cloak. She received no marriage proposal. Her escort merely extended his arm to her and they walked together through the arched doorway at the other end of the room.
More people spilled down the stairs, crowding the tiny room.
“Allow me to show you our humble home,” Corbin said with a wry smile.
He led her through the arch Aruna had entered. Only, it wasn’t just an arch – it was an arched passageway that extended a considerable distance. From what Bianca had seen of the island above, she was certain this passage extended under the lake itself. Why, it felt like they were walking back to the palace, it was so long.
Finally, they stepped out into a much wider space. Bianca’s breath caught in her throat.
The domed ballroom stretched high above them, the ceiling made of… “Is that glass?” she asked eagerly, craning her neck to stare up at it. Each pane was no bigger than her mirror at home, but each pane was a slightly different colour, turning the ceiling into a marvellous mosaic that shone in the moonlight filtering through the lake.
“It is,” Corbin replied, grinning. “Brought from Arabia just to build this ballroom. I swear some magic must have gone into its construction, for it is only by some miracle that the lake doesn’t try to claim our home for its own.”
As if by magic, music began to play.
“Shall we dance, princess?” Corbin asked.
Now Bianca truly was speechless. At her father’s court, the only dances she’d heard of were performed by women, for the pleasure of men, and no man ever danced with a woman. It was unheard of. “I…don’t know how,” she said.
He laughed. “I will soon teach you. You will see. Your sisters said the same thing to my brothers, and watch them now!”
Brenna, then Aruna, Nera, Hazel…all of her sisters had entered the ballroom while she’d been admiring the ceiling, and each stood in the embrace of a different prince, moving about the dance floor in what looked like synchronised steps. Well, nearly synchronised. Melania kept twisting in her partner’s arms so that she could glare at Bianca.
Bianca sighed. She hoped when Corbin lost patience with her for her lack of dancing skills, he would rescind his marriage proposal and consent to let her go home.
Twenty-Seven
“Something pulled on my cloak, I swear it!” Nera cried.
Vasco swore under his breath and lifted his foot off her cloak. If she hadn’t let it trail on the ground behind her, he would not have trodden on it.
“You must have caught it on a branch or something,” Brenna advised her. Even though she looked in Vasco’s direction, he was certain she could not see him. None of the girls could, and none of their mysterious princes, either.
Nera seemed satisfied by Brenna's explanation, but it drew Vasco's attention to the well-worn path at their feet, which had no branches to catch anyone's clothes, and the trees that grew on either side. Their leaves shone silver in the moonlight, as though made of metal and not living wood. He hadn't seen any such trees when he was cutting timber for Kun's cottage. Without thinking, he broke off a small branch so that he might study it later, in daylight.
"What was that?" Hazel whispered. "I heard something crack."
"Someone stepped on a stick, is all," Brenna replied. "Why, I think I felt one crunch under my shoe just a moment ago."
One by one, the young couples disappeared into a hole at the top of the hill. Fortunately for Vasco, the last one left the trapdoor open, so he climbed in after them.
At the bottom of the stairs, they were too preoccupied with uncloaking and flirting to notice him slipping through the crowd, though he brushed against more than one person on his way through. He passed through the passage, marvelling that he cast no shadow. He truly was invisible.
More confident now, he strode into the ballroom, keeping close to the walls. He watched Bianca talking and laughing with the prince as easily as she'd done with him that morning. What he didn't like was the adoration in the prince's eyes, burning brighter every moment he spent with her.
When the prince asked her to dance and actually dared to hold her in his arms, Vasco felt his fury rise. How dare any man put his hands on her? He wasn't worthy to touch her!
Even as he started forward to yank the man away from her, Vasco's own mind ventured a traitorous thought: why couldn't a prince touch a princess? Vasco might not be worthy of her, but she belonged with a prince, a man of her own rank. Reluctantly, he shrank back against the wall, forcing himself to watch but not interfere.
Even if it killed him.
After some time dancing, the prince led Bianca to a table where food and wine was laid out. He poured the wine into what looked like a golden goblet, before handing it to her.
After last night's poisoned wine, he wanted to leap forward and dash the cup from her hands, but she simply sipped from it and smiled.
Vasco crept closer, in order to hear their conversation.
Another couple joined them before he could reach them.
"So how are you two getting along?" Brenna asked as her prince poured her wine.
"I don't think I have ever done so much dancing in my life!" Bianca said.
"She dances as well on the dance floor as she does around my heart. I have made her an offer of marriage, but she will not give me an answer." Corbin gave a melancholy sigh.
Vasco's heart stuttered. Surely he hadn't heard correctly. The prince had proposed to marry her?
"You will say yes, won't you?" Brenna implored. "We have all agreed to marry one of the princes. Once you accept Corbin, that will be all of us." She beamed.
Bianca lowered her gaze. "But I scarcely know him."
Vasco's heart began to beat again. The man might have asked, but her heart was still her own.
Brenna grabbed Bianca's arm. "I think we need some air. Excuse us, sirs." She dragged her sister across the room, toward the stairs.
Vasco took a step away from the table, intending to follow the princesses.
"So will she do it?" Brenna's prince asked Corbin.
"By the time I am done seducing her, of course she will," Corbin said easily, pouring himself some wine. "She'll make a sweet wife, that one. I'll enjoy the wedding night."
The other prince laughed. "I wager Fiachra won't. He will not forgive you for foisting the slave's daughter on him while you kept the jewel for yourself."
Corbin drained his cup. "You know, you might be right, Raban. I know we only need them for one night to break the curse, but I might just keep that one. She'd make a fine mistress of Beacon Isle."
Raban laughed even harder. "I'll wager you tire of her in a week, or you'll give her to Fiachra to silence his complaints. By the time we reach Beacon Isle, we'll have all had her so many times she won't be able to close her legs. She won't be fit for a whorehouse, let alone our father's house."
Corbin shrugged. "Mayhap you're right. Who cares? The curse will be broken, and there are more women in the world than we could bed in a lifetime." He reached for Bianca's goblet, which she'd left on the table, and downed the contents. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he added, "But the next woman I bed will be that one. Tomorrow, if I am any judge. Come, let's go find them. I must have her answer."
Revel: Twelve Dancing Princesses Retold (Romance a Medieval Fairytale Book 4) Page 8