I waited for the woman in red, Princess Maria, to correct her and usher me to Nick, but instead she nodded and put her hand on my shoulder. “Yes, this is the fair Princess.”
My heart began to pound. I pulled away and turned on her. “Don’t touch me. Where is Nick?”
I heard whispers and gasps ripple through the crowd.
“Sapphira,” she whispered.
I took a step back, realizing all eyes were looking our way.
“Why are you saying my name like that? It’s Sophia.”
“It’s all right.” She smiled and turned toward a tall, plain, skinny woman with black hair and cold blue eyes that froze me to my bones. “Gabriella, call for the doctor. She’s had a bump on the head.”
“What? Give me the phone. I need to call my hotel.”
The woman scurried through the crowd, returning with a silver-haired gentleman.
“Please forgive her,” Maria expressed to the room. “Perhaps we allowed her out of bed too soon.”
No one moved.
I caught my reflection in a gilded floor-length mirror. It was me and yet it wasn’t. Pale, with rosy red, plump lips… but something else wasn’t right. I marched closer, realizing my hair was the colour of toast—a mane full of curly blonde ringlets that shone in a rippling sheet of gold almost to my waist. I studied the reflection. The sun couldn’t have lightened it that much. They dyed my hair and possibly permed it! What the hell was going on here?
CHAPTER TWO
“What are you people playing at?” I turned back to the mirror, my pale, creamy complexion mocking me. “This had better wash out,” I said, holding up a lock.
“Why is she being so silly?” Maria whined, loud enough for me to overhear. “I don’t like this.”
“I don’t either, Your Highness,” Gabriella said, eyeing me from across the room.
“When will Charles be back?” Maria said and frowned.
“We haven’t heard yet.”
“Have you heard any further news from Menton?”
Gabriella shook her head. “No, only that Roquebrune has joined them in their revolt and will soon declare themselves independent.”
“I handed the power over to Charles too late, and now his efforts are doomed. If only Florestan had been more of a leader. I’m feeling melancholy. Where’s Nico?”
My ears perked up at the sound of the name. It wasn’t Nick, but perhaps that was his stage name during this little game.
“He should deal with”—she paused, waving her limp wrist at me as if I were a mess to be swept from the floor—“this.”
“He’s not here. He’s handling the Roquebrune situation, Your Highness. Give me permission to deal with your daughter.”
“Excellent idea.”
Gabriella turned to me, a look of satisfaction brimming over. I tilted my head defiantly.
“What Roquebrune situation? Get me to Nick now!” I demanded.
“Get hold of yourself,” she said, disdain pulling at the corners of her mouth.
“I will not! Get me Nick.”
“Perhaps you need another shot.”
“No, I don’t need anything except Nick.”
“Would you like me to give her something to sleep?” The silver-haired man rifled through his black bag.
“No. I’m fine. I’ll cooperate. Please. Please don’t drug me,” I begged.
The silver-haired man looked to Gabriella and then to Maria, who nodded and turned to whisper to me in hushed tones. “I know you’ve sustained quite a bump, but no more outbursts, Sapphira, or you’ll be put to bed.”
I glanced around the room. All eyes continued to stare at me. Perhaps I’d better play along for the moment.
“Fine.”
The eyes began to turn away, and the chatter rose once again as Maria took my arm and introduced me to several people, as if nothing happened. As the introductions went on, I realized everyone believed I was this other woman, this Princess Maria’s daughter. I couldn’t help but wonder where this Princess Sapphira really was and why everyone was content to believe this little charade. But then again, everyone had a title, or so it seemed, and I concluded that this was some sort of murder mystery game or costume theatre, and they had all somehow decided I should play a role. Why they thought this would be fun was unbeknownst to me. The only introduction I cared about was to Graf Viktor Wilhelm Alexander Ferdinand of Württemberg, who stood about six foot two and had apparently rescued me from drowning the night before. This was the tall, dark and handsome stranger who’d stared at me earlier.
He was very attractive in a rugged sort of way, not the type you’d like to meet alone, unless of course you were drowning. His green eyes shone, sweeping the room with a noble expression before settling back on me.
“Prinzessin, it is an honour to be in your company tonight.” He raised my hand to his lips, but his eyes did not linger long on mine under the scrutiny of Gabriella. My hand dropped, burning, to my side, and my cheeks flamed to match. I longed to get him into a corner alone so we could drop the act and I could find out what the hell had really happened, but Gabriella remained glued to my side. I discovered that Viktor was visiting a neighbouring cousin when I’d turned up face-down on the shore. The topic, much to my dismay, was changed almost instantly. I was itching to know why he had deposited me here with these crazy people. The humming in my ears had finally stopped, and I could hear clearly, although at times I wished I couldn’t. They all spoke so formally, and many seemed to be visiting from different countries. It seemed odd that so many would travel for a dinner theatre, but the rich could be eccentric.
“How charming you look tonight, Sapphira,” interrupted the Comte de Chalais, steering me away. “You will have some wine, won’t you?”
It was a redundant question. The wine was already poured in a crystal goblet that stood on the table. It glowed like a bauble in the candlelight. I flashed on a hazy memory of a large, shiny gem, but the image escaped me as quickly as it had come. He handed the glass to me, following my gaze back to the Graf.
“You are quite taken with him?”
I snorted unattractively. “Where’s Nick?”
“Nico? Why would you ask after him?”
“I’m sorry. I realize you’re playing some sort of costume theatre here, which apparently you all take super-seriously, but I don’t appreciate being pulled into this. Please have someone take me back to that room, and send Nick in while you play your game!” As an afterthought I added, “And perhaps afterward, if you would be so gracious, please explain how the hell we’re getting back to our resort.”
Gabriella signalled one of the armed guards and I was escorted back to the room I’d awoken in.
Thank goodness, they’d finally listened.
The ladies quickly appeared and helped me strip the heavy costume, leaving behind a thin, light dressing gown. They left again, promising to return and settle me into a bath. I stared at the familiar stranger in the mirror. My eyes settled on the curve of my breasts. The chill in the air had forced my nipples to stand at attention, and gooseflesh now covered my arms.
A knock sounded at the door.
Nick, I thought. “Come in,” I said, turning toward the door as it opened. Henri, the Comte de Chalais, sauntered in, stiffly holding a china cup.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, ma chère. I just came to bring you a tea and make sure you were all right.” I looked at the cup in his hand, feeling awkward at my nakedness.
I quickly drew the sheer dressing gown over my shoulders like a robe. It wouldn’t do much, but it was close and handy.
“You seem to be having a difficult time recovering from the bump on the head.”
I was speechless that these people were so wrapped up in this delusion.
Setting the cup down, he turned and patted my hand. “Are you feeling any better?”<
br />
“No. I’m sorry. I don’t understand—why the charade? I realize I bumped my head when I fell at Marguerite Island. I must have washed up on your shore. But I don’t get why you people refuse to call me by my correct name and won’t let me see Nick. Have you even contacted the police?”
Henri placed his hand on my forehead. “Maybe I should get Gabriella or call the doctor back in.”
“I’m serious. I don’t know if this Sapphira is a character in your play or a real person. I don’t know what happened to her, for that matter, but I’m not her.”
“You’re probably just still a little woozy from all the wine.”
“Why don’t you believe me?” It was little more than a whisper. I pulled my robe tighter around me.
“Sapphira, please stop with this charade,” he said, looking into my eyes and tilting my chin up. “It won’t bring your brother home any sooner, and it only makes you look spoiled.”
Frustration boiled within me, and I didn’t know whether to scream or cry. Tears involuntarily flooded my eyes.
“And of course a good night’s sleep will help.”
As he drew me in for a hug, I thought of kicking him and running for the door, but I had seen guards earlier and this palace was filled with halls. Before I knew it, the moment was lost. He squeezed me tight and let me go.
I stood stock-still, feeling the hair prickle on the back of my neck. So many things weren’t making sense. Why were they keeping Nick from me?
I cursed myself for screaming earlier. Had Nick taken off? I returned to the door I’d seen him exit hastily through. What if it hadn’t been Nick this morning? Pressing my lips together, I forced myself to breathe through my nose so my raspy breaths couldn’t be heard. My heart hammered as I flung the door wide open, preparing for a shock. Much to my surprise, I saw a sitting room, maybe a dressing room. I felt for the light switch but had no luck.
The only other door led to a bathroom, where candles flickered on a marble washbasin, casting shadows across the salmon wallpaper.
The tub was filled with water. I stuck my hand in—hot. This must be the bath they promised to return and settle me into. I waited a few minutes to make sure there would be no other surprise visitors and then disrobed once again. I climbed into the claw-foot tub. While soaking my aching limbs I found myself thinking about the Graf. I couldn’t help but imagine him rescuing me. I mentally smacked myself. I needed to focus on getting the hell out of here and back to Antibes. Nick must have called the police by now; they would be looking for me, wouldn’t they? And yet I couldn’t help but let my mind once again drift to the Graf. Had he seen what happened? Did he watch me fall? Perhaps I could convince him of my identity after all. He was my best shot. A visitor to this odd little island, probably only here for that dinner theatre.
As I walked back through the dressing room, an extravagant armoire caught my eye. It was a long shot, but maybe there were some normal pyjamas stored in there. I saw a row of ball gowns fit to grace the courts of Versailles. Where were the jeans, T-shirts and sundresses?
As I fingered a richly embroidered gown, I shivered at the draft blowing in, and I noted there was no zipper. Quickly checking three others, I realized none of them had zippers. Fondling the material between my thumb and forefinger, it occurred to me that these dresses were authentic. Why would someone need authentic nineteenth-century dresses like these—and why so many, unless their whole life was a costume party? Where the hell was I?
I walked to the antique desk by the fireplace. I pulled the first drawer open hard and fast, surprising myself as it hit the floor with a thud. A piece of wood went flying, and I realized I’d knocked out a small compartment. Rubbing my fingers along the back I discovered a panel that could be removed. A small, leather-bound book was hidden inside. The pages were dense with large, scripted writing. I flipped inquisitively; it appeared to be some sort of diary. I turned back to the first page and noted the initials S M in the upper right-hand corner. My initials, but clearly not my book. I flipped to the middle and glanced at a passage dated 1857.
Panic flutters in my chest now day and night. Charles is still absent and Mother threatens to join him on his travels to quell the political upheaval we are faced with. I pray desperately to join. I do not wish to be left behind with the snake lurking.
I placed the book back in the desk and left the room. As I rounded the corner at the end of the hall, I ran into the Graf just as he was about to enter another doorway.
“Viktor, I’m so glad to see you again.”
He raised his eyebrows in surprise. “I thought you’d retired for the night.”
“No. Are you staying?”
“Your mother suggested I spend the night. I’m going hunting in the morning with your uncle Nico and the Comte, and I look forward to seeing you at dinner again.”
“Uncle Nico. Who is this man?”
“Pardon?” Viktor said.
“Never mind. Why did you bring me here when you found me?”
“What do you mean? Why return you to the palace? You’re displeased?”
I frowned, shaking my head, unsure how to explain. “No. Yes. It’s complicated. I found this cavern in the sea—”
“When?”
I tried to think. “Today or yesterday.” I paused. “I don’t even know what day it is.”
“You’re serious?”
“Yes, if you’ll just let me finish. In the sea there is this—”
“Am I a fool, Princessin?” Viktor interrupted.
“No, of course not.”
“Then you’re telling me you swim alone in the sea and that’s permissible?”
I forced my chin up. “This isn’t coming out right. I’m not from here. Why do you think I belong in this palace?”
“I apologize, Princessin. I think I am not understanding your English as well as I thought I did.”
“No. You understand just fine. They’re lying. They think I’m this Princess, but I’m not. I think they’ve done something to her, and now they’re trying to replace her with me.”
“Are you feeling all right? You’re still confused?”
“Oh, never mind,” I said, pushing past him.
“Wait!” I heard him call after me.
Running, I came to the end of another hall with a staircase leading up. Noises came from behind me. I hurried up the stairs, and as I approached the landing, I saw a door at the top. Good, somewhere to hide. Then I heard the rumble of two male voices from behind it.
Damn it! I was trapped. Excitement bubbled in my chest as women’s voices grew closer. It sounded like Viktor had alerted someone about my hasty departure.
I hurried all the way to the top, pausing outside the door and shrinking into the deep doorway as they passed. I was so worried about the ladies catching me that I almost missed the conversation.
“Does she remember anything?”
“She doesn’t appear to. What did you do to her?”
My pulse quickened at the words.
“Nothing, I swear. I was only trying to catch her as you ordered, my lord.”
“Either you’re lying or she’s playing a game. Why must she be so disagreeable, Enzo? Just like her father. That chamber exists somewhere in this godforsaken fortress and, by God, I will find it.”
“You will find it.”
“I just said that!” he snapped. “That treasure-hunting bastard Ferris. He gave that stone to the old fool to protect. If only I could find it; imagine what I could do. I’ve tracked it too long to give up now.”
I stepped softly back from the door, turning to leave, but the next few words grabbed my attention.
“Sapphira knows where it is. I’ve caught her disappearing into rooms and surfacing in others since she was small. Both her father and brother took her into their confidence. If only I could force her to trust me.”
<
br /> “It’s past time she had a husband, my lord,” said Enzo. “Demand her hand, and then she’ll be forced to tell you.”
“Her brother is the problem. I’ll have to deal with him as I dealt with the old man.”
A lump formed in my throat. Someone was now pacing, and I realized they might soon exit and catch me.
I turned and rushed down the corridor, fighting hysteria the entire time. What was going on around here?
Anais came out of a room just as I approached.
“There you are.” She smiled.
“Anais,” I said, panting. “What is the name of this island?”
“Island? Princess, I fear you’re not getting any better. I’m going to call Monsieur.”
“No! Why are you still calling me that? Please, Anais, I fell into the sea at Marguerite Island, and I know I’ve washed up somewhere else. I realize you could get in trouble for breaking character in this crazy play, but please tell me where I am.”
“Monaco.”
“Well, that makes sense.” Thank God! Monaco’s not far from the island. I just need to find a phone. I began to ponder the costumes just as Anais clarified.
“I call you that because you are the Princess of Monaco.”
I stared at her, dumbfounded.
“See for yourself,” she said, leading me down the hall.
Curious, I followed her into a room that appeared to be a library or study of some sort. Another lantern sat above yet another fireplace. Where was the electricity? My eyes darted upward above where Anais stood in front of a large gilt-framed portrait.
She came to my side, and my jaw dropped.
At first glance it was as though I stood in front of that mirror again at the party. The woman in the painting could have been me—well, me as I looked right now.
“Do you remember now, Mademoiselle? This was just done at the first of the year.”
“And what year would that be, Anais?”
“Why, 1857 of course, Your Highness.”
CHAPTER THREE
“Princess, you’re awake?” Anais said.
“What happened?” I murmured groggily.
The Temple of Indra’s Jewel: Page 2