Holding Court

by K. C. Held

  “Good. Maybe you should tell Hank Bacon about the pearl and let him do whatever he needs to do. No snooping around the castle by yourself, you hear me?”

  “Yeah, I hear you. But he’ll probably fire me if he finds out I was in the passageway again. I’d rather wait and see if I can figure out who the dead girl is first.”

  “You do what you think is right. But keep that stun gun at the ready. Now where’s this young man you’ve got the hots for? I want to get a look at him.”

  “Number one, I am so not discussing my love life with you, and number two, don’t you dare check out Grayson’s aura.”

  “Well, how am I supposed to look at his aura if you won’t show me who he is?”

  “Exactly,” I say.

  “Have you seen him yet today? Did he say anything about the dead girl?” Cami asks.

  “I haven’t seen him, but he apparently told Bree about the whole dead body thing even though Hank told us not to.”

  “Can you blame him? That’s some pretty juicy stuff.”

  “She asked me if I was sure the body was real. So Grayson no doubt thinks hallucinating dead bodies is another awesome skill in my freak-show repertoire.”

  “Well, then find the dead body and prove everyone wrong,” Cami suggests.

  “Yeah, I’ll get right on that after dinner.”

  “When is dinner? I’m starving,” Cami says.

  “What time is it? There’s a trumpeter guy who announces dinner at four. That’s when I’m supposed to go to the minstrel gallery to spy on people.”

  “Ooh, I want to spy on people!” Cami says.

  “You can’t, you’ll miss dinner.”

  “Can’t we just spy for a little bit and then eat dinner?”

  Gran looks at her watch. “It’s three fifty-five. I’d say it’s spy time.”

  They insist on seeing the minstrel gallery, and we all crowd onto the balcony to watch the proceedings in the Great Hall. Right on time the trumpeter plays the dinner announcement and the guests begin to flow into the hall.

  “I’m supposed to pick out a victim to make a premonition about, and as soon as I’ve figured out who I’m going to target and what I’m going to say, I go downstairs and join the crowd,” I explain.

  “Okay, who should we choose?” Cami asks, peering down at the castle guests.

  “I’ve already got a great victim in mind,” I say.

  “Who?” Cami asks.

  I wiggle my eyebrows at her.

  “Me? What are you going to say?”

  “I guess you’ll have to wait and see. You’d better go find a seat.”

  “I think I’d rather stay up here,” Gran says. “This is fascinating. It’s like aura-watching at the mall only with a much better vantage point.”

  “Here comes the processional,” I say as King Henry enters the Hall, followed by his retinue of lords and ladies and assorted hangers-on.

  “Where’s Grayson?” Cami asks.

  “Yes, where is your young man?” Gran says, peering down at the procession.

  “He’s not my young man, he’s her young man,” I say, pointing at Bree Blair, who whispers something to one of her ladies-in-waiting before taking her seat at the head table.

  “Oh, my,” says Gran.

  “I know,” I say.

  “How interesting,” Gran continues. “I wonder if she knows?”

  “Of course she doesn’t know! I don’t go around telling the girlfriends of the boys I’m in love with that I’m in love with their boyfriend. Not that she would care. She’s like the most beautiful, perfect person ever. I’m absolutely no threat to her whatsoever.”

  “No, I don’t think she’d see you as a threat,” Gran says and snickers.

  “Are you laughing at me?”

  “No, but I am rather amused.”

  “How nice for you,” I say, completely disgusted with her lack of loyalty. And then I realize she’s giving me that weird squint she does when she’s checking out someone’s aura.

  “Hey, stop it. What are you doing?” I wave my hands in front of her face.

  “So very interesting,” Gran says.

  I cross my arms over my chest and turn my back on her. It’s hard not to feel naked when Gran’s doing her aura squint at you.

  “That’s him, isn’t it?” Gran says and I turn to see her hanging over the edge of the balcony, full-on pointing at Grayson, who has just entered the Great Hall with Sir Drew. He’s wearing his flowy white shirt with the green tunic that matches his eyes, and then he looks up and sees me and it’s like someone zapped me with my own stun gun. I lose the warm and tingly feeling when I realize Gran is still pointing at him.

  “Gran!” I hiss. “Stop pointing!”

  She puts her arm down. “He’s a hunk all right,” she says, then looks back to Bree. “I wonder if he knows?”

  “Knows what?” I demand. “What are you talking about? Nobody knows I like Grayson except Cami. And now you. Unfortunately.”

  Gran shakes her head. “It’s not for me to reveal,” she says.

  “Damn right it’s not,” I say. “Jeez, Gran. I can’t take you anywhere. Would you please turn off your aura mojo and go enjoy your dinner?” And then a thought strikes me. “Wait a minute, how did you know that was Grayson? What does his aura look like? Does it match Bree’s?”

  “Oh, no you don’t, Juliet. You can’t have it both ways. Either you want me to keep my aura reading to myself or you don’t.”

  “I don’t, okay. I’m sorry, I just didn’t want you to embarrass me. He totally saw you pointing.”

  “No need to apologize. I understand.”

  “So? What does his aura look like?”

  She looks at me very thoughtfully. “I’ve learned that it’s best to keep my meddling to people I’m not related to, or don’t spend large amounts of time with.”

  “Oh, come on. You know you came here to look at his aura!”

  “And, more importantly, to reassure myself that you’re safe here.”

  “Whatever. You can tell me, Gran. I promise I won’t freak out.”

  “Yes, you will.”

  “No, I won’t! I promise.”

  “Juliet, the subject is closed. Whatever happens won’t be because of my meddling.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean? You love meddling! You’re a matchmaker, for crying out loud. And what about your whole butterfly effect theory? You could be missing out on the perfect opportunity to flap your wings and cause a tornado!”

  “I think I missed the tornado memo,” Cami says.

  Gran takes Cami’s arm. “We’d better go, Mistress Cami. The dinner service is starting. Juliet, can you find out if the jester is single? He’s a perfect match for a client I signed last week.”

  “Sure. As soon as you tell me if Grayson and I have matching auras.”

  “I won’t tell you that. I will tell you that you should not take everything at face value. Look deeper if you want to know the truth.”

  “Let me guess, Eleanor Roosevelt?”

  “Nope. Vivian Gilbert.”

  “You know what, Gran? You should take over as the Mad Maid of Kent. That’s exactly the kind of crap I’m supposed to say to people.”

  “‘Understanding is a two-way street,’ Juliet. ‘Friendship with oneself is all-important because without it one cannot be friends with anybody else.’” And before I can stop her she slips through the little door and I’m left alone on the balcony. I steal a few ogles at Grayson and then head downstairs to do my prophetic nun shtick.

  When King Henry sees me enter the Hall he nods, and I give him a thumbs-up. And then I have to stop myself from running back out. Because now that I’m downstairs in the Great Hall instead of looking down at everyone from above, I’m realizing just how many people are going to be watching me. And one of them is Grayson. I’m fairly certain I now understand stage fright. I look over at Cami. She gives me a big wink, and I relax a little. At least I know I can count on her to totally ham it
up when I make my faux prediction.

  I rehearse in my head what I’m going to say and try not to steal glances at Grayson, who’s sitting between two teenage tourists, totally oblivious to their admiring stares. He’s watching Bree, who’s talking to one of the other wives. I try squinting at Grayson, and then at Bree, to see if I can detect any trace of their auras. But all I can see is how ridiculously gorgeous they both are.

  “Sister Elizabeth, have you had a vision concerning one of our guests? Sister Elizabeth?” King Henry’s voice finally breaks through my pathetic preoccupation. I tear my eyes away from Bree’s unblemished perfection. Everyone in the Hall is looking at me expectantly. Including Grayson. Oh God. Maybe I should just faint. The Maid of Kent was a big swooner, so it would be perfectly in keeping with my character. Except she usually passed out after she had her visions. I take a deep breath. “Your Majesty,” I croak.

  “Prithee speak up, Sister. Be not a blushet, thou art amongst friends here.”

  I clear my throat. “Forgive me, Your Majesty. But I have received a message from the spirits.” I can do this. It can’t be any worse than junior high theater camp, right? “I believe it concerns one of your guests.”

  “Indeed?” King Henry says, right on cue. “We are at your mercy, Sister. Please, tell us what you would have us hear.”

  I walk slowly over to where Cami and Gran are sitting. “I see a golden knight.” I stop and stand in place like a statue with my hands in fists stacked at my waist. “He stands on a wheel with five spokes and he holds…a crusader’s sword! He waits”—I pause to heighten the drama and then point at Cami—“for you.”

  She jumps out of her chair like a jack-in-the-box. “Oh, my gosh! A golden knight? Is it a statue? A golden statue?”

  I nod. “You will meet this golden knight more than once.”

  “Oh my gosh! It’s an Oscar, isn’t it?” Cami flaps her hands around like she can’t breathe. “Are you saying I’m going to win an Academy Award?”

  “The honor repeats,” I say, and then I wobble a bit for effect.

  Cami grabs my arm. “Oh, thank you, Sister Elizabeth. You can’t imagine what this means to me. I’ve been acting since I was five years old. I’ve always dreamed of winning an Oscar.”

  The room erupts in applause.

  “Nice,” Cami whispers in my ear. “If only it were a real premonition.”

  “Who says it’s not?” I whisper back.

  “Grayson looks amazing in that Prince Charming outfit.”

  “I know,” I whisper back miserably. “And Bree looks like Cinderella post-bibbidi-bobbidi-boo.”

  The applause dies down and the crowd turns their attention back to King Henry.

  “Ruination is found in a sequined gown!” I yell into the lull as King Henry opens his mouth to address the crowd.

  Dead silence.

  “Thanks, Sister Elizabeth,” Cami says loudly and pats me on the back. “I’ll make sure I wear something else when I accept my Oscar. A nun who gives fashion advice, who knew?” Cami totally mugs for the crowd as everyone bursts into laughter, and I take the opportunity to flee the Great Hall.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Tit for Tat

  Floyd steps out of the shadows as I slip through the huge wooden doors propped open at the back of the Great Hall.

  “Well, hello, Sister Elizabeth. We meet again,” he says and tips his poufy red hat at me.

  “And how is the Keeper?” I ask, feeling much less nervous in his presence knowing there’s a huge crowd of people who can see us through the open doors if he decides to strangle me or something.

  “Just keeping an eye on things, as is my duty. Too bad I only have the one.” He taps his eye patch with a hoary fingernail. “I do hope I didn’t frighten you earlier, Sister Elizabeth. I’m simply looking for a little tit for tat.”

  “Tit for what?” I feel a blush creeping beneath my wimple.

  “I’m suggesting a mutual exchange of information, nothing more, I assure you. I’d like to know how you came to be in the secret passageway, and seeing as how you’ve been snooping around the castle ever since you got here, I assume there’s something you’d like to know as well. And given that my grandfather helped build the place and my family members have served as caretakers ever since, it’s likely I have the answer you seek.”

  “So, if I tell you how I ended up in the secret passageway, you’ll answer any question I ask?”

  “Certainly. If I’m able.”

  I don’t see what I have to lose, since I can tell him how I ended up in the passageway without mentioning anything about the dead body. “Deal,” I say and I tell him about trying to hide in the alcove and accidentally triggering the opening behind the suit of armor.

  “I see. So no one told you about the secret entrance?”

  “Nope. Okay, my turn. Actually, I have two questions. Number one, who else knows about the passageways?”

  He gives me a sly smile. “I can tell you that King Henry did not know about them. He was rather angry with me when he discovered their existence, thanks to you.”

  “You didn’t tell King Henry about the passageways? Why not?”

  “You never know when a secret might come in handy.” He gives me a wink. “I’ve told the King a few of Lunewood Castle’s secrets, for his own safety you understand. Old Mr. Lune had quite a sense of humor. He used the passageways to play tricks on his houseguests, when he wasn’t spying on them, that is. He also used them to pay special visits to some of his more attractive female guests.” He winks at me again. “His granddaughter-in-law, the current Mrs. Lune, kept mostly to the ground floor and had everything else closed off to save on utilities. She never learned half the secrets my grandfather built into this place for old Mr. Lune. And now I’m the last living soul who knows them all. Mr. Bacon has been so focused on getting Tudor Times up and running, I hated to bother him with minutiae.”

  “I see. How thoughtful of you.”

  He gives me a wide grin, and his yellow teeth make me think of feral hamsters. “Prithee, tell me, what’s your second question, Sister Elizabeth?”

  The trumpeter starts playing the closing processional that signals the end of the banquet, and I turn to see King Henry and his entourage getting up from the high table.

  “Is anyone missing today?” I ask Floyd.

  “Missing?”

  “Yes. Have you noticed if anyone is missing who should be here?”

  “That is an interesting question. Who are you looking for?”

  “Are you going to answer all of my questions with questions?”

  “Perhaps. Does that bother you?”

  “Dude. That’s really annoying. Forget I asked.”

  “The Keeper will ponder your question and let you know when he has an answer.”

  “Great. Thanks. This has been fun. You’re like a Tudor Magic 8 Ball. ‘Reply hazy, prithee ask again.’”

  “I should have thought a young woman with your talents would know the answers before she even asked the questions.”

  I give Floyd an eye roll and turn to go. I glance into the Great Hall and see Gran watching me. I give her a wave and make a beeline for the Great Wardrobe to change out of my costume. I am so ready to be done with Tudor Times for the night.

  There’s a small crowd of people in the Great Wardrobe who’ve also finished their shift. I grab my backpack and wait in line for an empty dressing room. When it’s finally my turn, I change back into my street clothes and transfer my stun gun and the pearl to the front pocket of my capris. I give my hideous wimple hair one last look in the mirror and exit the dressing room.

  “Jules!” Bree is standing at the front of the dressing room line, waiting to change out of her costume. She gives me one of her you-are-my-best-friend-in-the-whole-world hugs. “How was your first day flying solo? Did you hear Angelique had a baby boy?”

  “No, I hadn’t heard. That’s awesome.”

  “King Henry was just telling me. He called the hospita
l before our dinner performance. I loved your premonition for Cami, by the way.”

  “Thanks. She’s destined for stardom, our Cami.” I smile at Bree and then look up to see Grayson watching us from the back of the line.

  “It was perfect. The gown advice was my favorite part.”

  “Yeah, Tudor nuns are known for having their finger on the pulse of Hollywood fashion. Um, I’d better get going. I rode my bike and I want to try to beat the crowd down the hill.”

  “Oh, do you want a ride? I’m sure Grayson wouldn’t mind. We should all carpool tomorrow so you don’t have to ride your bike. That hill must be a killer.”

  “That’s okay. It’s fine on the way down, it’s just that the road’s really narrow, and now that I think about it, I can probably catch a ride with Gran and—”

  “Hey, Grayson,” Bree calls out, “we have room for Jules, don’t we?”

  Grayson walks toward us, and I subconsciously pat my wimple-hair.

  “What’s up?” Grayson asks Bree.

  “Jules’s bike will fit in the back of your car, won’t it? It seems silly for her to have to ride all that way when we can easily take her home. Hang on, let me get out of this costume.” Bree darts into an empty dressing room, and I’m left standing with Grayson.

  “Hi,” I say and attempt a dazzling smile so as to distract him from my bad hair and any lingering aura of nunliness.

  “Hi,” he says. “How’d it go today? Better than yesterday, I hope.”

  “Uh, yeah. No dead bodies today, just the threat of imminent childbirth and a creepy guy with hamster teeth.” I reach up to pluck a piece of straw out of his hair, and he inhales sharply as my hand brushes against his cheek. “Hay,” I say, wanting to touch his cheek again. And his lips. And—

  “Hey,” he says quietly, his eyes locked on mine.

  I swallow hard and hold up the piece of straw. “It was in your hair. Must be one of the hazards of being a squight.”

  He stares at the piece of straw and then looks toward the dressing room where Bree is making the transformation from Tudor queen to supermodel-worthy modern beauty. “Jules, I…I can’t give you a ride,” he says and walks away.