A Midwinter's Wedding

by Melanie Cellier

  Held tightly against his chest, she could feel his muscles tighten in response to her question and felt a little guilty. She was taking advantage of the situation to ask him a personal question. He seemed desperate enough to keep her awake to talk about anything. But she didn’t feel guilty enough to take her question back. Her curiosity was stronger.

  “They live on their estates.”

  “Don’t they ever come to court? Are they coming for the wedding?” It seemed a little strange. A Marquis was an important member of court.

  “They’ll come for the wedding, of course. But they won’t arrive until just before Midwinter.”

  “Why not?”

  A short pause gave Cordelia the impression that Ferdinand was attempting to formulate an acceptable answer.

  “My family’s lands are the second most extensive in the kingdom. Only the Earl of Westforth has greater holdings. My parents have many responsibilities.”

  The Earl of Westforth. The title sounded familiar. She wanted to let the thought drift away, but no. She was supposed to stay awake. She fought to chase the memory down.

  Ah. She remembered. Hanna. Or rather, Lady Westruther. Her fellow attendant. The Earl of Westforth was her father-in-law. So, Hanna had married into an important family.

  Cordelia smiled at the memory of the pastries Hanna had brought to their last fitting. They had been delicious. She certainly couldn’t think of anyone who seemed more deserving of a high title.

  What she really wanted to ask Ferdinand was what had happened to misshape his legs so that he could no longer dance and skate. But even in her confused state, she knew that was a step too far.

  “Major,” she said, not entirely sure what she planned to say next.

  Thankfully he interrupted her. “I think we can get rid of that Major, business, don’t you? You called me Ferdy once before, and I must say that I rather enjoyed it.” Then he rushed on, as if he’d said more than he’d meant to and hoped to cover it up. “Everyone else calls me Ferdy, even your brother. I’m quite used to it.”

  “All right, Ferdy,” she said, as much to stop his flow of words as anything.

  He stilled for the briefest moment, his arms tightening around her, and then he picked up his pace.

  She tried to remember when she had called him Ferdy before. Oh, of course, the ball. Another memory accompanied it.

  “Ferdy, I’m sorry I abandoned you at the ball.”

  One of his arms jerked slightly.

  “There’s no need to apologise, Your Highness. You don’t need to explain yourself to me.”

  “But I do. It was horribly rude. I had a very good reason, though. Or I thought I did.” She sighed, and her teeth chattered loudly. “When I’m warm again, I’ll tell you all about it. I promise.”

  “Well, don’t worry about it for now, Princess Cordelia. We’re nearly there. The grooms will have left the children with the soldiers and ridden as fast as they dared through the capital, I’m sure. If we’re fortunate, they will have beaten us and they’ll be ready for you at the palace. If they tell William or Marie what happened, they’ll guess where we’ve gone. They’ve skated at the lake many times themselves and know where the tunnel exits.”

  He cursed so quietly Cordelia hardly caught it.

  “What is it?”

  “This is all my fault. I shouldn’t have let you or the children go skating when they found a thin patch.” One of her shudders seemed to pass through into him, rocking them both.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s not your fault.” The words felt heavy in Cordelia’s mouth. “Obviously it’s my fault. None of the children went anywhere near it. I should have been paying more attention to what I was doing. If I hadn’t let myself get so caught up in the moment none of this would have happened.”

  Ferdinand looked down into her face. “You did look so delighted. It was a joy to watch. I just wish I’d called you back sooner. One of the children distracted me, and I lost track of where you were for a moment.”

  Cordelia tried to form the words in her sluggish mind to reassure him again that it wasn’t his fault, but they turned a corner and a bright light made her blink and turn her head into Ferdy’s chest.

  Voices exclaimed and hands reached out to take her from Ferdy’s arms. For the briefest moment she clung to him before remembering how exhausted he must be.

  “Thank you,” she whispered as new arms swept her away. She hoped he had heard her.

  Time passed in a blur. Priscilla and several nurses stripped her down and made her soak in a lukewarm bath. Slowly the shudders eased and then disappeared. Doctors appeared full of questions and she answered as best she could.

  By the end of the day they were predicting a full recovery and declaring her extremely fortunate. “It’s a good thing the Major was there,” said one of them. “He always keeps his head in a crisis. I have no idea how he got you warmed up and back to the palace so quickly, but he managed to do it and that’s the important thing.”

  Over the next few days Priscilla insisted that she stay in her room next to the fire, bundled up against the cold. Cordelia protested a little out of principle but was secretly glad to stay in and rest. Exhaustion still weighted down her movements, an unpleasant reminder of her ordeal.

  Rafe visited her every day with some entertaining story to amuse her, and the Duchess of Sessily even stopped by to reassure herself that Cordelia was truly unharmed. The somewhat intimidating woman told Cordelia she was there as a substitute for her mother. Privately Cordelia suspected that her actual mother, who was always as warm as she was calm, would have been a great deal more comforting.

  Her only regret was not being able to find Ferdy and thank him again. He had lain on the ice and then carried her for a long distance, all the time without his jacket. She only hoped he hadn’t come down sick himself.

  Cordelia’s mind had, once again, turned to this question when a knock sounded on the door. Priscilla moved to answer it while Cordelia tried to muster some curiosity about her visitor. Unfortunately, the warmth of the flames made her sleepy. She assumed it must be Rafe.

  But when the door opened, Marie stood there, a small glazed pot in her hands. She followed Cordelia’s surprised gaze to the large red petals of the flowers growing from the pot. The bright colour contrasted beautifully with the dark green leaves, an unexpected sight in the middle of the northern winter.

  “It’s a poinsettia.” Marie held it out to Priscilla and gestured for Cordelia to stay in her seat beside the fire. “It’s about the only thing that blooms up here in the winter. We keep several pots in the library, and I always borrow one for my room when I’m sick. They’re so cheerful.” She smiled at Cordelia. “I imagine it’s nothing like the flowers you see all year round at home, but it’s the best I have.”

  “Thank you.” Cordelia’s eyes misted over. Holed up in her room, ill, she had found herself thinking a little longingly of home. The thoughtful gesture from her soon-to-be sister-in-law reminded her that she had family here in Northhelm too.

  Marie sat next to her and filled her in on all the wedding plans and dress fittings she had missed. “Hanna asked after you and said she would bake you something delicious as soon as she has the chance.”

  “Mmm.” Cordelia smiled. Hanna’s baking was always welcome. The thoughts of her new Northhelmian friend turned her mind back to Ferdy. “I hope Ferdy is well. I would hate to think he got sick rescuing me.”

  Marie hesitated.

  Cordelia stared at her, all traces of sleepiness gone. “What is it? Is he sick?”

  Marie shook her head. “I wasn’t sure if I should mention it or not. He’s healthy enough, but…”

  “Tell me.” Cordelia chewed the inside of her cheek, not stopping to ask herself why she felt so distressed at the idea of Ferdy in trouble.

  “Some of the nobles aren’t happy that he put your life in danger. They’ve been demanding that my father discipline him in some way. There’s talk of taking away his squad and his
military rank.”

  “What?!?” Cordelia sat up straight. “It wasn’t Ferdy’s fault, it was mine. No one else was injured were they? Tell the king to send anyone who complains to me, and I’ll set them straight.”

  She fell silent for a moment, frowning. “It’s an insult, really. What makes Ferdy responsible for me? Who’s to say it wasn’t me responsible for him?”

  She looked over at Marie and noticed that the other girl looked more amused than incensed. She repressed a sigh. Even here in Northhelm everyone thought of her as young.

  Marie picked up her change of mood and reached over to put a reassuring hand on her arm. “You’re a guest here, and Ferdy’s a Northhelmian. We all share in the responsibility of a host towards you. Your parents have invited Rafe and me to come to Lanover after the wedding, you know. So, don’t worry, you’ll get the chance to be responsible for me.”

  Cordelia chuckled. “I think I can safely promise you won’t be falling through any ice, at least.”

  “I am sorry that happened.” Marie’s tone turned earnest. “I’m so glad you’re going to be all right.”

  “It was my own fault. I’d been warned. Please tell that to anyone who asks.”

  Marie smiled at her. “I’m relieved to hear you say that. Ferdy isn’t as charming as William, but he’s so dependable that the servants and townsfolk love him. There’s been plenty of grumbling on both sides over how this whole situation should be handled.”

  The sudden clatter of many hooves and the rumble of heavy carriages made them both turn their heads towards the window. Marie leapt up. “That must be the Rangmerans. I need to get downstairs.”

  “The Rangmerans?” Cordelia hurried over to the window to peer down into the courtyard. “I thought they weren’t arriving until tomorrow.”

  “Apparently they made excellent time on their journey. A messenger arrived this morning to warn us they would be here a day early.”

  “Do I need to be there to greet them?”

  “Oh no.” Marie paused in the doorway. “You’ll have the chance to meet them soon enough. This isn’t your kingdom, and you’re still recovering. Queen Ava will understand I’m sure.” She waved goodbye as she said the last words and stepped into the passageway.

  “Will she?” Cordelia muttered under her breath, still unsure about the new Rangmeran monarch.

  She expected Priscilla to scold her and attempt to call her back to the fire, but instead the older woman followed her over to gaze out the window.

  “An impressive entourage. And a smart livery. I approve.”

  Cordelia bit back a smile, somehow she didn’t imagine that the Rangmeran monarchs cared about Priscilla’s approval. “I never knew you had such an eye for clothes, Priscilla,” she said instead.

  “I have spent most of my life in the royal palace, Your Highness. One acquires a sense of such things.”

  Examining the crowd of servants in the courtyard, Cordelia kept an eye out for the man William believed must be a groom. Surely he wouldn’t show himself in the situation.

  But, sure enough, there he was. She stared at him intently, ready to raise an alarm if he behaved suspiciously. But the man simply collected a case from one of the carriages and carried it into the palace, one of a long line of servants. He never even went particularly near a horse. Perhaps he wasn’t a groom, then.

  With the man gone, she turned her attention to the Rangmerans. “There! That must be her.” Cordelia pointed to a golden-haired young woman descending from a carriage. The woman turned to speak to a tall man who followed behind her.

  “And that must be King Hans.”

  Cordelia examined the man. She had been expecting a male version of her new friend Hanna, but his hair was chestnut rather than golden. She couldn’t see his other features clearly from such a distance, though, so perhaps there were similarities in their features. His bearing proclaimed him as an ex-guard.

  She watched him as the other royals came forward to greet the couple, followed by Hanna and her husband, Stefan. He interacted with everyone and greeted his sister with special warmth but, watching from afar, it was clear to Cordelia that he never lost track of Ava. He seemed somehow attuned to his wife in a way Cordelia couldn’t explain. Not that Ava looked fragile or in need of his protection. She stood straight and appeared confident as she greeted the rulers of Northhelm, a king and queen old enough to be her parents.

  Their dynamic was different from the proud warmth Max displayed towards Alyssa, or the joking friendship between Rafe and Marie, but all three couples seemed to glow with their love. Cordelia had to admit it–William was handsome, charming and kind, but she didn’t feel a spark. She didn’t miss his company when he was absent or light up in his presence. It would be disappointing to return to Lanover and have to report an entire lack of romance to her sisters.

  Turning away from the window, she decided she was finished hiding in her room. If this trip wasn’t going to give her romance, it could still give her adventure. Rafe had asked for more evidence, and she had an idea how to get it.

  Chapter 13

  She trod quietly through the palace halls, trying not to draw attention to herself. Her brother hadn’t exactly asked her to find more evidence. And he would almost certainly disapprove of her current plan. While he was perfectly willing to face danger himself head on, he didn’t approve of the people he loved putting themselves in harm’s way. At least, not his younger sisters, anyway.

  But Cordelia wasn’t a child anymore, and she couldn’t trust that she would stumble on another conversation. After all, she already knew the two men had met multiple times without her knowledge. Those had probably been the incriminating conversations, if only she had heard them.

  Her adventure at the lake had been unfortunate. But it had also taught her something. Something other than the importance of staying out of ice water, that is. The Northhelmian royal palace had secret passageways. The Lanoverian palace had been sadly lacking in this feature, much to the disappointment of the seven princes and princesses. She smiled. Her parents probably praised their ancestors’ forethought in leaving them out. The inevitable childish pranks would have terrorised the entire palace.

  But the absence of passageways hadn’t stopped the younger Lanoverian royals from searching for them. Celeste had been the scholar amongst them before the curse, and she had coached them all on how to do it. “Look for something that doesn’t fit,” she had said. “A row of carvings or patterns where one is slightly different from the others. That could be the mechanism for opening the passageway. Look behind tapestries and knock on the walls. Listen for hollow-sounding spots.”

  Many merry hours had been spent combing their home for such tell-tale signs.

  Searching wasn’t as much fun on her own, but the thrill of knowing that at least one passageway definitely existed made up for it. Her memories of arriving in the palace with Ferdy were a little hazy, but she remembered they had come out in the wing that held the royal suites. So she started there, carefully examining the walls with her eyes and, when no one else was in sight, her hands. She didn’t want anyone to see her knocking on walls and pulling on carvings.

  She had wandered up several corridors and poked through more than one unoccupied sitting room before her knock echoed back to her with a hollow sound. She gave a little jump of excitement. This might be it.

  The corridor was constructed from the same smooth stone as the rest of the castle and nothing immediately leapt out at her. She stepped back and carefully assessed the whole space. Not for nothing did her siblings know her as the detailed, observant one.

  Two light fixtures bracketed the interesting section of wall, and one of them looked slightly different from the other fixtures she’d seen so far. She couldn’t exactly put her finger on what was different–she just knew it didn’t look quite right.

  Stepping forward, she gripped the metal and pulled it down, hoping that it wouldn’t break off in her hand. That would be hard to explain.

&n
bsp; The metal creaked and groaned, and the entire fixture detached from the wall and pivoted down towards her.

  “Yes!” she cried as a large section of stone swung away from the rest of the wall. Celine was going to be even more annoyed at being left at home when she heard about this.

  Cordelia had lugged a lantern with her on her search, and the effort now paid off. Carefully lighting it, she stepped into the hidden passageway. Celeste had read all about such spaces during their childhood searches and had told Cordelia that the opening mechanisms were easy to find from the inside. So she let the door swing shut behind her without fear.

  The narrow passageway was dim but lighter than she had expected. An examination of the walls revealed periodic holes or slits that allowed light to seep into the passage. They must be well hidden from the other side. Cordelia resolved to keep her eye out for them when she left the passageway.

  Moving forward, she let her feet lead her without a plan. It quickly became apparent that the palace contained a lot more than a single hidden passageway. The entire building must be riddled with them, a second set of corridors nearly as extensive as the main ones.

  Perhaps the original king wanted his servants to come and go out of his sight, she mused. And subsequent rulers had disliked their servants less, so the hidden passages had fallen into disuse. Or perhaps more recent monarchs had simply appreciated their privacy more. The small openings that let in the light also served as spyholes into the rooms and corridors beyond.

  Cordelia was relieved that the thick layer of dust indicated no one had been here in a long time. If she hadn’t been driven forward by the lingering sense that danger overshadowed them, she would have exited at the first entryway she found. She had no desire to spy on the people of Northhelm.

  But somewhere in this palace were the two men she had now overheard three times. If she wanted to overhear anything again, then she needed to find them.

  The third hidden entryway she passed removed a lingering doubt from the back of her mind. Celeste had been right; the mechanism for controlling the door was obvious from the inside.