“You fainted, Mademoiselle.”
My skull pounded. “I had the strangest dream.” I paused, recalling the details. “Did you say Princess of Monaco?”
“You see,” she whispered out of the corner of her mouth, eyes darting and shifting to someone standing on the other side of me.
“Yes, she’s really had quite the trauma. I’m afraid she needs more rest,” a man said.
I twisted my shoulders and looked in the direction of the male voice just long enough to see a long pointy syringe coming at me.
“No drugs.” I barely got the words out before the world went dark again.
* * *
Sleep was uneasy. I tossed and turned in the large canopy bed as snatches of the past week drifted before me like a film playing in reverse. I saw the cavern with its hypnotic glow. And then the light changed, and it was streaming through the terrace doors of our beautiful French villa, illuminating my great-grandmother Gigi’s jewels in their rosewood box. I carefully picked the necklace up and held it against my fingers, letting it shift in the sunlight. It was covered in purple amethyst and was so intoxicating that I never wore it; only the ring had ever graced my body. Shifting my hair, I took a sharp breath as the cool metal touched my skin so I could connect the clasp. I felt as if Gigi’s warmth and love melted into me from the jewels. The sudden thought of her brought tears to my eyes. I turned to see Nick staring bizarrely at me, and I quickly pulled the necklace away and dropped it back into the box, slamming it shut.
Wrapped up in the quilts of my strange new bed, I groaned and twisted, suddenly opening my eyes. Beautiful warm rays of afternoon sun trickled in the quiet room. Shaking the memories away, I got out of the bed and stepped onto the balcony, breathing deeply as I stared out at the sea. If I could find a phone I could simply call a cab company to take me back. Of course it would help if I knew where I was.
I stopped mid-thought, as my last encounter with the maid came rushing back. She said I was the Princess of Monaco! Oh my God, the painting—it looked just like me, just like my reflection.
I pushed my confusion aside. Maybe I’d imagined the last twenty-four hours. Maybe I woke in this room earlier and created this elaborate hallucination. I was probably concussed from my fall at Marguerite Island.
Wandering the rooms, I felt along the wall for light switches but found only gas lamps and a few sconces. There was no phone in the room either.
That’s because it’s 1857, you fool.
“No, no, no, no!” I mumbled back to myself.
I hadn’t seen a phone anywhere in the palace, not even at the party. Usually people texted or perused their cell phones no matter where, even if they had been playing a game. Feeling a sense of dread, I walked to the desk and opened the diary. It couldn’t be. I couldn’t be. The back read PRINCESS SAPPHIRA ALEXANDRIE DE MONACO.
22 July, 1857
I came across suspicious behaviour on my way to the study today. I saw coattails turning the corner as a paper fluttered to the ground. Naturally, I stole down the corridor to collect it. The moment I touched it the bumps on my flesh stood. It was coded and from Ferris. I had only seconds before I noted footsteps returning. I released it and hurried into the alcove.
Communications with Nice have been disrupted, and Charles is away dealing with the politics of our position in the Kingdom. Mother, of course, is busy with her constitutions, and I have no one in whom to divulge.
I breathed in sharply, flipping the page. A tattered envelope fell out. It was from a William Ferris, but nothing of importance stood out to me. Setting it aside, I scanned the next several pages of the book, but they spoke only of gossip and social events. Then I found one dated a week later.
I realize after much reflection I must retrieve William’s letter. The Prince’s hands are full organizing La Societe des Bains de Mer to operate a gambling concession, and there is too much at stake if anyone but Charles or I decipher the code. There could be only one brazen enough to try. Mother continues to dismiss his inappropriate advances; I think she encourages him. He wants me for some political end, which I have not yet figured out. I dislike the idea of opposing Mother, but I refuse to concede to that snake. Unfortunately, every time I try to discuss it, she interrupts with rants that people dislike her. She lives in a bemused state. I’m worried he is somehow rendering her incapacitated.
I tucked the book away and lay down on the bed, wondering who she spoke of. I had to face facts. Nick was not here.
If I was to believe Anais, then I had somehow awoken in another time—and in another body, for that matter.
That was a pretty hard truth to swallow, but the evidence was all around me. And this Princess Sapphira was obviously afraid of someone, probably the same individual who accosted me, but who was it? My senses were off, my vision blurry, and I doubted I would even recognize the voice given my state.
I stood and returned to the dressing room door. That reminded me—where had my visitor gone? Had I really seen him exit through this door? My eyes perused every inch. I walked to the armoire and opened it. There was no way out. What was I missing? Shivering, I rubbed my arms, realizing there was a draft coming from the far right of the wardrobe. I moved the dresses and pushed on the panel. It moved, sliding to the side. I felt space but all I saw was pitch black.
I ran into the other room and grabbed a candle off the mantle, quickly lighting it. I pushed it into the darkness. A tunnel. Holy shit!
Leaning against the wardrobe frame, I thought of perhaps barricading it with something to prevent any further surprises.
“Sapphira!”
I slammed the doors shut. My heart pounded at the shrillness of her voice.
“What are you doing?” Gabriella asked, scrutinizing me with her icy glare as she marched into the dressing room.
Cold sweat broke all over my body.
I ignored her question, wandering back into the bedroom. “Did you want something?”
She gave me a hard look. It was clear there was no love lost between us.
“I’ve come to see that you get to dinner on time. Why aren’t you dressed? Where’s Anais?”
“I don’t know. Where is she?” I questioned, wondering why Gabriella was here.
“Right here,” answered a cheery voice from the other room.
I was bustled in and out of garments in a matter of minutes. I stood under Gabriella’s scrutiny while Anais primped my hair and fluffed my face. Looking over my shoulder, Gabriella stared at the room where the wardrobe sat. Did she know about the tunnel? It sure seemed like it. I thought back hard to my encounter. Was I sure it had been a man?
“All done,” Anais said, leading me to the mirror.
I hated looking in it. It was a reminder of everything that was wrong.
Gabriella tapped her foot rudely, so I pushed past her into the hall and then stepped aside so she could lead.
Maria was seated at the head of the table beside the Comte de Chalais, and I was placed to his immediate right. While I mused, Viktor spoke at length to the courtier on his left, but the roar of chatter was now too great to hear what they said. I dropped my roll back onto my plate, annoyed at having been seated so far from him. Every now and then I would hear something about politics, books or paintings, but no one asked my opinion.
Maria stood up to speak and the table fell silent. “My dear friends,” she began. Her smile recognized the whole room, and from the corner of my eye I saw several men looking up at her with adoration.
“We are here, as you know, in another attempt to honour Graf Von Württemberg, who saved the life of the Princess two days ago. Please raise your glasses.”
There was a series of clinks and praises.
“Now, my fair daughter,” she went on, “has a particular love for dance. And I know she is probably most eager—”
My wine was swimming in my mouth at the
time, and I spat it straight back out in a most uncouth manner. All heads twisted in my direction.
“I choked,” I murmured. “Sorry.”
Henri whispered in my ear. “Such things are easily absolved in your company, my lovely Princess.”
I faked a smile.
“Begin,” she instructed the musicians. “Our guest will honour us by dancing with our fair Princess.”
Viktor came for me. Panic made my legs shake like jelly.
“Don’t forget I’m next,” Henri called out, waving a little booklet in the air.
Thoughts of tripping in front of all these people loomed in my mind. As the musicians began their simple, slow song, I could feel the sweat gathering, and I longed for deodorant.
“I don’t dance,” I whispered, which wasn’t entirely truthful because I loved dancing, but ballroom dancing wasn’t exactly an everyday occurrence for me.
“You dance beautifully,” he whispered back, leading me with ease.
I looked down, trying to follow his steps.
Halfway in, I began to loosen up and almost enjoyed it, apart from the audience. Of course that’s when the music ended. Maria and the guests clapped enthusiastically, and Viktor asked me to join him for another dance later.
I agreed and then excused myself to wander toward a hallway I’d seen people using. I needed to be alone. I rounded the corner just as an older man with dishevelled grey hair, a long white beard and thick glasses caught up to me.
“Prinzessin, what are you still doing here?” His ancient round face carried more lines than a modern atlas. He pulled me off to the side. “Didn’t it work?”
“What—” I started to protest when a lady appeared at the end of the hall.
“Rochus!” she shouted. “There you are! I’ve been looking for you.”
His eyes shot back to me as if willing me to be quiet. “Send one of your servant girls. I’ll give you another.” Then he turned to the woman. “Hannah, I was just asking after you.”
I struggled to understand what was going on. Was he the man who’d accosted me? I surveyed the room and saw that Viktor was busy speaking to a woman from dinner; Maria, Henri and Gabriella were otherwise occupied. The door had been left unattended, so without any further thought, I slipped out.
CHAPTER FOUR
My heart drummed and my lungs heaved, but I pushed past it as I ran across the open courtyard, farther and farther away. At last I stopped at a stone wall that lined the perimeter of the cliff, surrounded by green foliage. In the falling darkness, I kicked myself for taking off without thinking it through. The Mediterranean shone far below, and I had no idea how to get down.
Where was I going, anyway? The Lérins Islands to find that spinning cavern? I’d need a boat. I sat on the wall, gasping for breath and looking for dots on the landscape. At last I began to breathe more easily. It seemed no one had noticed my fast departure. Or maybe they no longer cared.
I began to shiver. I’m not the Princess of Monaco. Time travel is not possible. I must be in a coma. This must be an elaborate dream. Nothing else made sense.
A trembling started up inside, and I closed my eyes, fighting it. But I could not close my eyes to memory, and I saw the diary in my mind. Saw the frantic script on the paper. If this was all real, then I was in a bad situation.
Tears welled up in my eyes.
I have to keep going. I don’t know where but I have to get away from this palace. I rose and followed the wall four feet until I came to a path leading downward through the trees. The overgrown pathway was made of stones. Weeds and branches shot up between the footholds.
“I hope I’m not interrupting anything?”
I jumped at the sudden sound of another’s voice.
“Viktor? Oh my God!” I said, placing my hand over my chest.
“I apologize. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
“It’s fine,” I said, trying to collect myself.
“I saw you leave the palace. I was promised another dance.”
“I know. I’m sorry. You were occupied with speaking to that woman from dinner. Is she your wife?” I said in hopes of distracting him. I continued walking.
“Francesca? No. We just met. I was telling her of my home,” he answered, walking beside me.
“Your home—where is that?”
“The Swabian Alb.”
“Outside the Black Forest?” I said, recognizing the German territory and thinking of his title. The Graf Von Württemberg. This now made sense to me.
“You’ve been there?” he questioned.
“No, but my mother’s family was from there,” I said.
He looked at me queerly. “My apologies. I thought they were French.”
“Hmm, about that,” I said, wondering how much I could trust this stranger.
“Where are you going?”
“I don’t know. I’m just walking. I need some air.”
“I couldn’t interest you in heading back toward the palace, could I? This path looks overgrown and dangerous.”
“No.”
“I see. I’m beginning to recognize a pattern with you, Prinzessin. You’re always running off.”
I realized he was scolding me for my hasty departure at his door. I slowed my pace.
“I’m sorry for last night.”
“It’s all right. Are you feeling better?”
“That’s just it. I’m not. I wasn’t kidding about everything I said. I need to get away.”
He just stood there staring.
“I must get home.”
“Home? Where might that be?”
I paused, wondering how to explain home was a hundred and fifty years in the future.
“Never mind,” I said, picking up the pace again just as a gnarly branch caught my heel, pulling me to the ground.
“Are you hurt?”
Only my pride, I decided.
“Bitte. Pardon my hands,” he said, reaching down quickly and lifting me to my feet. “Roll your foot,” he commanded and bent down to take a look.
“Does this cause you to hurt?” The words were barely out of his mouth before he swooped me into his arms as if I were no bigger than a child. “I’ll carry you back.”
“I can walk. Please, I don’t want to go back,” I said. But it was too late. He was already trotting along with me in his arms. My wounded pride told me to be upset with him; however, the temptress in me was impressed with his brawny arms.
“I realize you may still not feel well after such an experience.” He smiled down at me sheepishly.
“I guess I must sound crazy to you,” I said, giving in and smiling back at him. He carried me a few more feet as the silence dangled in the air.
“Your anschneiden is very nice,” he said.
“Pardon?” I followed his gaze to my chest, which was popping out the top of my dress. “What did you say?” I asked, blushing a fair shade of pink. I didn’t recognize the word but it sounded very dirty, and I couldn’t help but think of the nipple tweaking earlier. Had it been him?
“Die Brosche,” he said, shifting his eyes downward.
“Oh, this. Thank you,” I said, glancing back down at the mountains, which, to be honest, framed the broach quite nicely.
“I apologize for staring earlier,” he said.
Apologize for staring—what, at my breasts? “Don’t be silly,” I replied, thinking, In this dress, I’d stare too. “Honestly, I didn’t even notice.” I spat out the words, pushing my drunken inner dialogue aside.
“I was reminded of when I first saw you. You were a fair sight, dancing with the Comte de Chalais in that ruby gown.”
More confused than ever, I tried to focus. The wine had been potent; perhaps I’d misheard him.
“I was dancing in the sea with Henri when you found me?”
&n
bsp; “Nein.” He cracked a smile. “I attended one of your parties two months ago. You don’t remember me. You did seem distracted that night. I almost didn’t recognize you in the water. Your hair appeared dark. You seemed fragile, so unlike the bold spirit you discernibly are.”
He seemed to take my silence as encouragement and was coaxed further.
“You are different, Prinzessin, from any other fräulein I’ve ever met. Your eyes are secretive but beautiful, and I am embarrassed to admit that I have trouble looking away whenever you are around.”
I smiled, flattered but confused that he also seemed to believe I was this Princess. Did I really look and act so much like her? I gazed at my naked finger, the one where Gigi’s ring had sat. For some reason I had felt the need to slip it off my finger and hide it after my introduction in the hall on the first day, as if they were out to rob me, but now I wondered if I’d made a mistake. It was apparently the only proof of my true existence.
“Thank you, you are very kind. You didn’t finish your story from the other night about when you found me. How did I get to that?” I pointed toward the large building looming in the distance.
“The palace?” His green eyes sparkled now, and I marvelled that they could hold so many expressions.
“My cousin, Franz, sent one of his stable boys to let them know your whereabouts. I carried you inside his home of course and covered you with warm blankets. Not even an hour later your uncle arrived with the Comte de Chalais and two other men and swept you away. I thought I would never see any of you again, but then a message arrived inviting me to dinner. I have to admit I thought that was very noble of your family, considering some would have been suspicious.”
“Speak of the devil, isn’t that the Comte de Chalais coming toward us now? Why is he on a horse?”
He rode up quickly and came to an abrupt halt directly in our path.
“Bonsoir, Graf Von Württemberg. Is everything all right?”
“Ja, Lady Sapphira tripped and twisted her ankle.”
“Are you hurt, ma chère?” Henri’s brows lifted as he paused. He touched my ankle softly, which was close to him since Viktor still held me tightly. “It appears to be fine now. Why don’t you set her down and we’ll see if she can walk on it?” Henri’s tone was soft but held a growl. Evidently Viktor didn’t miss the threat. He set me down quickly yet gently and took a step back.
The Temple of Indra’s Jewel: Page 3