A Midwinter's Wedding

by Melanie Cellier

  “Ferdy, that’s him,” whispered Cordelia, as quietly as she could.

  Finally, finally, something interesting was happening.

  The Viscount ordered the man to wait and then disappeared into the bedroom. He reappeared carrying one of the small crystal bottles from his dresser.

  “Here.” He handed it to the man. “Is everything arranged as ordered?”

  “Aye.” The man took the bottle and slipped it into his rough jacket. “They’ve brought in extra help for the kitchens, and I’ve made sure my sister got a place. She’ll fetch me once the food has been prepared. It’ll be chaos in there, so no one will notice a thing.”

  “You told her?” The noble sounded angry.

  “Of course not. I know my orders. She doesn’t know why she’s doing it.”

  The noble frowned but seemed to accept the answer. “There are enough of us in on it already,” he muttered, so quietly Cordelia barely caught the words.

  “And the queen has issued her usual orders?”

  “Aye. All of the royals are to have hot cocoa and mulled wine waiting in their rooms when they return from the ball. My sister will point out the trays, and I’ll make sure the poison goes into both types of drink, so we’ll be covered whatever they choose.”

  “Hush,” growled the Viscount. “We don’t use that word.”

  The servant went to spit on the ground and then pulled himself up and settled for scowling instead. “I call it like it is.”

  “Not if you know what’s good for you.”

  The servant narrowed his eyes and then nodded. “Makes no difference to me, Your Lordship, I’m sure.”

  Chapter 15

  Cordelia stood frozen, too shocked to even turn and look at Ferdy. A mass conspiracy against all the royals. Poison. It was even worse than she had feared.

  The servant left and the Viscount stared at the closed door. “This is what happens,” he said to the empty room. “This is why we have to act. Elevate one commoner, and they all start to get ideas.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that Ferdy was gesturing at her. He picked up the shielded lantern, and led her down the passageway, towards one of the safe exits.

  “We have to go to King Richard and Queen Louise immediately.”

  He led her through the palace so fast that Cordelia had to trot to keep up. She kept replaying the overheard conversation in her mind. She had a vague feeling that she was missing something obvious, but she couldn’t focus enough to work out what it was.

  Ferdy led her straight to a meeting room that she hadn’t seen before. Two guards kept watch outside the closed door, but one look at the Major’s face and they stepped aside. Ferdy strode into the room without hesitating, and Cordelia tumbled in behind him, still trying to catch her breath.

  Every head in the room turned towards the intruders. King Richard sat at the head of an oval table of polished wood, the rest of the seats filled by royal representatives from all four kingdoms with their advisors. He looked neither angry nor excited by their interruption.

  “Major. This is unexpected.”

  Ferdy gave a deep bow. “I apologise, Your Majesty, but I have received information that cannot wait.”

  “The last time someone burst into a boring meeting, it was to announce a rebellion,” said Marie from her place next to Rafe. “I hope your news isn’t that exciting, Ferdy.”

  “It isn’t good, I’m afraid, Your Highness.” Ferdy’s expression remained grim, and the smile dropped off Marie’s face too.

  Concisely, and without emotion, Ferdy explained where they had been and who they had been watching.

  “The secret tunnels?” The king raised a single eyebrow.

  “You know the circumstances around Princess Cordelia’s discovery of the existence of the passageways,” said Ferdy. “I thought she could come to no harm exploring them. No one else has been involved.”

  The king nodded once and Ferdy continued their story.

  “Poison? Do you know what type?” Alyssa sounded more fascinated than scared. Max put his arm around her shoulders protectively.

  “No, Your Highness. Although we have a fair idea where it came from.” Ferdy quickly outlined their suspicions about the parfumier and the stallion in the courtyard. “The servant seemed to act alone with the attempted accident and was reprimanded for it. The poison is a more elegant plan.”

  “It sounds like more people are involved than the two who are known to us,” said Ava, who had listened with silent intensity to the reported conversation overheard by Ferdinand and Cordelia. “If we are to discover the rest of the conspirators, we need to understand the motivation for such an action. What do they hope to gain from it?”

  “He did say one more thing,” said Cordelia, “after the servant left.” She glanced at Ferdy.

  His lips tightened. “The Viscount seemed to find the servant disrespectful. He said, ‘Elevate one commoner, and they all start to get ideas.’”

  King Richard looked around the table as everyone present absorbed the words. “Unfortunately, it would appear that you, Princess Alyssa, and you, King Hans, and even you, Marie, are the cause of this outrage. I have been hearing reports for some time now about a small subset of nobles who are offended by the elevation of commoners to royal status. This is the first I have heard of any concrete plan to take action on such feelings, however.”

  “Is it?” The quiet voice belonged to the Duchess of Sessily. “Or are these the same nobles who pushed for the Major to be disciplined for endangering Princess Cordelia?”

  The king regarded her for a moment. “You are as astute as ever, Your Grace. It is, indeed.”

  She shook her head. “Their outrage over the sanctity of royal rank and royal persons in that instance seems ironic given the new developments.”

  Cordelia frowned. “The first time I overheard them, they spoke of a ‘madness’. Of ‘infected’ royals. Perhaps they feel this so-called infection nullifies their royal status.” She looked around the room. “One rotten apple and all that.”

  The duchess regarded her steadily. “It seems we must be grateful for your excellent memory, as well as your diligence in pursuing your suspicions.”

  King Richard inclined his head. “Indeed, we owe much to Princess Cordelia for her observant eye and ear.”

  Cordelia flushed and lowered her head, unused to being singled out in such a way.

  “Excellent, we know who to arrest then,” said Hans. His narrowed eyes and balled fists suggested anger. However, Cordelia could see the worry in his gaze whenever it rested on Ava. She had seen enough of him to imagine how he must feel, knowing that their marriage had brought danger to her.

  “Certainly we know where to start the investigation,” said King Richard. “But we can hardly arrest every noble who has expressed some discontent. It is likely that only a few of them are part of this scheme. Some of them I have known for many years, and I am certain they would not lend their aid to murder, regardless of their opinions on the desecration of rank.”

  “Yes, indeed, caution is needed,” said Alyssa. “The rule of law must be upheld. While I do not doubt the testimony of Ferdinand and Cordelia,” she threw them both a smile, “others of the court may not be so convinced.”

  “A good point,” said William thoughtfully. “If we arrest the Viscount without proof, it may only serve to turn more nobles to his cause.”

  “You have to dare much to win much,” said Rafe. “I suggest we do nothing.”

  “Nothing?” Queen Louise regarded her soon-to-be son-in-law with shock.

  “For now,” said Rafe.

  “Catch them in the act, you mean,” said Ava, her eyes narrowed calculatingly.

  Alyssa leaned forward. “That might actually work. And the risk would be minimal.” She shuddered. “I, for one, won’t be drinking hot cocoa or mulled wine any time soon.”

  King Richard frowned. “We’ll need guards hidden amongst the workers in the kitchen. This servant doesn’t sound p
articularly loyal to the Viscount. If we can catch him with the poison in hand, I imagine he will be happy enough to implicate everyone else involved in exchange for a lighter sentence. Those he knows about anyway.”

  “My men are up to the job,” said Ferdy with confidence. “And I can vouch for their loyalty. I can have several stationed in the kitchens and others stationed at the ball, ready to arrest the Viscount as soon as the poisoner starts talking. The parfumier we can pick up as soon as we have his bottle in hand.”

  “And what will the rest of us be doing?” asked Cordelia, a little relieved that her role in the drama sounded like it was over.

  “We will all be dancing at the Masquerade, of course,” said Rafe smiling at her. His eyes had lit up at the proposed action, and she guessed that he wished he were to be stationed with the guards rather than in the ballroom.

  Queen Louise must have seen a shadow of fear in the princess’ face, because she got up and came around the table to grasp Cordelia’s hand in hers. “Don’t worry, Cordelia.” Her voice was gentle and understanding. “We will all be together and shall help each other to act unconcerned. The Midwinter Masquerade is our most lavish event, and I hope you all may even be able to enjoy yourselves, once the arrests have been made. It is a frightening plot, to be sure,” she glanced over at her children, “but I have noticed that help always comes when it’s most needed. The High King and the godmothers watch over us and our kingdoms. And it seems on this occasion they saw fit to send you to save us.”

  Moisture welled up in Cordelia’s eyes. She had never imagined herself as the hero in one of the godmother’s tales before. The thought was exhilarating.

  In the end, Cordelia was glad to have masquerade preparations to fill the never-ending hours of the next day. Waiting and pretending that everything was normal proved difficult when every nerve felt as if it were singing and humming. The girls all flitted in and out of each other’s rooms, assisting with dress choice and the placement of accessories, and exchanging whispers about the plans for the evening. Everyone from the meeting room had been sworn to secrecy, not even their servants could know what was happening. Thankfully Priscilla assumed that the masquerade and the upcoming wedding were responsible for Cordelia’s jitters and didn’t ask her to explain herself.

  Finally the time arrived for the beginning of the festivities. Cordelia smoothed her purple gown as she made her way towards the ballroom. The tiniest flecks of amethyst had been sewn into the bodice, and the garment sparkled as she moved, the full skirt swishing around her hips. She knew she had never looked so beautiful, but she could take no pleasure in it. More important things were happening tonight.

  A steady stream of bright gowns and smart suits entered the ballroom. Unlike at the previous balls, no herald announced the guests. It was a masquerade, after all.

  But Cordelia didn’t need an announcement to identify Viscount Ersine. She had spent enough hours watching the man to easily recognise him despite the simple black mask that covered his eyes. She shivered. He looked dangerous and deadly.

  She lingered at the back of the crowd, reluctant to enter the ballroom. Seeing the Viscount had brought the niggling sense of something forgotten back to her mind.

  An indrawn breath made her glance to the side. Ferdy stood there, a look of wonder on his face.

  He stepped forward and bowed over her hand. “You look beautiful, Princess Cordelia.”

  “Thank you, Ferdy.” She was too distracted to enjoy the light in his eyes as they rested on her. “I’m so glad you’re here. I was wishing someone would show up, and I should have known it would be you.” She smiled at him.

  “Yes, that’s me. Always dependable.” He sounded rather depressed about it.

  Cordelia ignored him, reaching out to grip his arm. “Did we miss something? I keep feeling like I missed something.”

  Ferdy lowered his voice. “I don’t believe so, Your Highness. All of the guards are in place.”

  “No, I mean something back at the Viscount’s rooms.” She frowned running back over everything she had seen and heard.

  She gasped. “The bottles! Ferdy, the bottles!”

  “What do you mean?” He looked concerned but confused.

  “When I went into the Viscount’s rooms, there were two bottles on his dresser each with a different coloured liquid.”

  “You went into his rooms?” Ferdy sounded thunderous.

  She bit her lip and looked up at him a little guiltily. “I might not have mentioned that part.”

  “That was extremely dangerous, Your Highness!”

  She remembered her narrow escape and silently conceded he was right. Outwardly though, she ignored the comment.

  “That’s not important. What matters is what’s in the other bottle and what’s happened to it now. Why did he have two types of poison? And why did he only give one to the servant?”

  Ferdy frowned and eyed her. “That I can’t tell you, Your Highness. Perhaps it was a backup of some sort. It may still be sitting on his dresser.”

  “We have to go check.” She tugged at his sleeve. “Do you know the way to his rooms through the regular corridors? I saw the Viscount go into the masquerade, it will only take me a moment to see if the bottle is still there.”

  She could almost see Ferdinand’s mind working behind his eyes. Finally he nodded and grasped her hand. “Come on, we need to be quick.”

  The two ran through the corridors of the palace, occasionally passing a startled servant or a noble running late for the masquerade. They didn’t stop until Ferdy pulled them up in front of a solid oak door. Two guards stood nearby in the corridor but Ferdy ignored them.

  “Are they your men?” whispered Cordelia.

  He nodded. “Just in case Ersine manages to escape the ballroom.” He pushed the door open and pulled her through into the Viscount’s sitting room.

  She took over and led the way into his bedroom. She didn’t need more than a single glance at the dresser. It was empty. She rushed over and pulled open each of the drawers, tossing the contents onto the floor. She needed to be sure.

  “It’s gone.”

  “So we’ve missed a piece. There’s something else going on here we don’t know about.”

  “This is not good. This is not good.” Cordelia began to shake from the rush of energy pouring through her body.

  Ferdinand stepped towards her and grasped her hand again. The connection steadied her.

  “It’s not too late,” he said. “We still have time to act.”

  “The servant!”

  “Exactly.” Ferdinand sounded grim. “I know where my men were to take him.”

  Once again he led the way as the two of them raced through the palace. Cordelia’s breath was coming in shuddering gasps, but she didn’t dare slow down. Ferdy wouldn’t leave her, and she didn’t want to hold him up. Admittedly her long skirts and dancing slippers didn’t help. She gathered the material into her hands so she could move more freely.

  Ferdy led them out of a side door and to a small guardhouse inside the palace walls. Only a couple of men were inside, and they leapt to their feet and saluted Ferdy.

  “No sign of them yet, Major,” said one, eyeing Cordelia in confusion.

  “There’s been a new development,” said Ferdy, just as the sound of boots reached Cordelia’s ears. She spun around and peered out of the window of the guardhouse.

  A moment later the rest of them seemed to hear the sound, and one of the guards ran to open the door. Six guards came through, dragging the man Cordelia recognised from the market and the Viscount’s room.

  “You!” he growled when his eyes fell on her. He spat on the floor.

  The guard who gripped the man’s handcuffs gave him a small shove. “Watch your manners.”

  “What’s in it for me? Seems I’m in for nothing but trouble already.”

  “It does seem that way,” said Ferdy, stepping forward and speaking in the sternest voice Cordelia had heard him use. “But appearances
can be deceiving.”

  “Oh, they can, can they?” asked the man. But his expression lightened and turned calculating.

  “It strikes me,” said Ferdy, “that you’re just a tool.”

  The man muttered something inaudible.

  “And I’m not interested in a tool. I want the hand that wields it. Tell me everything you know and who gave you your orders, and I’ll see less trouble finds you than you’re expecting.”

  The man gave a bark of harsh laughter. “I have no interest in protecting them. I wouldn’t have done it at all if they hadn’t paid so well. I’ve got nothing against the royals.” He eyed Ferdy consideringly. “I hear you’re the son of a Marquis. Do I have your word as a noble, you’ll help me out if I confess?”

  “You have it.” Cordelia could tell Ferdy hated the need to bargain with such a man.

  The servant seemed content with Ferdy’s assurance and outlined the plot as they had already heard it. Ferdy signalled to one of his men to go and alert the guards in the ballroom to arrest the Viscount.

  “But that’s not the end of it,” the servant continued.

  Cordelia and Ferdy exchanged a glance. This was the part they had run here to hear.

  “I didn’t trust that Viscount further’n I could throw him. What’s to stop him deciding he wants to tie up loose ends once it’s all over, eh? So, I did a bit of nosing around of my own. Turns out two other nobles are in it with him.” He named the two, and Ferdy gestured for another guard to be off to the ballroom. “And the three of them hatched what you might call a backup plan. They had someone on watch in the kitchens. If any commotion occurred, they were to take a second bottle of a different poison to the ball.”

  “Why not use the same poison?” asked Ferdy.

  “This one isn’t as potent, apparently, only kills two out of three.” Cordelia stared desperately at Ferdy, but his eyes were fixed on the confessing criminal. Two out of three! Faces flashed before her eyes–Rafe, Marie, William, Alyssa, Max, Ava, Hans–she couldn’t bear for even one of them to be hurt.