He flushed. It would be beyond inappropriate to lean over and kiss her right now. Curse or not, definitely inappropriate.
Tempting, but inappropriate.
“I should go,” she signed.
“Where is your home?”
She shrugged and didn’t answer. Apparently that subject was also off-limits.
“Perhaps I’ll travel inland. I’ve always lived by the sea. A change might be nice.”
“Do you have someone to stay with? Any friends or family?”
She shook her head, but her eyes were defiant. As if daring him to say that she needed those things to survive.
That was exactly what Gustave had been going to say, but her expression stopped him. Instead, he pulled his feet out of the ocean and turned to face her.
“I wonder if you could do me a favor?”
Her expression became suspicious. Gustave smiled, trying to relieve her fear.
“I’m supposed to spend the afternoon opening birthday presents from royal families and writing thank you notes. It will be dull, but you could join me if you like. It would annoy Marquis Corbeau immensely.”
She grinned at him. Then her grin broadened into a silent laugh. Gustave joined her, his laughter echoing over the waves and mixing with the cries of seagulls. When was the last time he had laughed like that? Sometime before his father had disappeared, that was certain.
“Not to brag, but I have a history of annoying people. I’d be happy to help annoy your marquis.”
“Perfect.”
Gustave hopped up and held out his hand. She took it, and he helped her to her feet. The hem of her skirt was damp, and the back of her dress was covered in sand. She stumbled, and Gustave offered his arm. The woman hesitated, then took it with a trembling hand. She kept her grip light. As if she might run away at any moment.
Halfway back to the castle, Gustave realized he had left his shoes on the shore. He would need to send someone to fetch them later.
If he had been walking with anyone else, he would have turned back to fetch them and saved a servant the effort. But something in the way the girl walked suggested that she was in pain. She didn’t limp, but her steps were cautious. As if the ground might give way beneath her.
She met his gaze and smiled a little, and Gustave forgot all about his shoes.
25
“Why is she here?”
Marquis Corbeau looked every bit as annoyed at the woman’s presence as Gustave had hoped he would. It was probably immature to take so much pleasure in that, but the marquis had thwarted attempts to rescue Father and tried to force Gustave into marriage. He deserved a little discomfort.
That was an unkingly thought, but Gustave reminded himself that he wasn’t fully king yet.
“She is our guest and wanted to see more of the castle.”
“Send her away to tour the kitchens with a servant then.
“He does realize I can hear him, doesn’t he?”
Gustave bit back a grin as the woman signed. Marquis Corbeau scowled.
“So, she can communicate after all? What did she say?”
“She said that she needs a translator, and Collette and my grandmother were busy. The rest of the servants who know sign language are preparing for the gala.”
“Hmm.”
The marquis looked at the woman like he might look at a wilted flower arrangement. She returned his glare, equally unimpressed. Gustave stepped between them.
“I believe we have things to do, Marquis? Where are the gifts?”
“There were too many for your office, so I sent them to the library. You’ll work from there today.”
The marquis bustled ahead towards the library, eager to get started. Gustave hurried after him, then noticed the woman had fallen behind. She wasn’t limping exactly. It was more like she was trying not to look like she was limping.
He walked back to her and offered his arm.
“I’m not a weakling. I don’t need help.”
“I didn’t say you were. It’s common courtesy.”
He signed the words so that Marquis Corbeau wouldn’t overhear and demand a translation of the conversation.
She looked suspicious but took his arm. At first, her hand barely rested on his sleeve. As if she were accepting his gesture but also determined to make her point. Her entire body was stiff.
Gustave didn’t comment. He simply walked beside her at a comfortable pace. So slowly that he hardly noticed it was happening, her hand rested more weight on his arm and her shoulders loosened. Her face relaxed.
“What is taking you so long?” Marquis Corbeau said.
She tensed again and gritted her teeth as if biting back a response.
“Please forgive his eagerness,” Gustave said. “He gets a little carried away with gala preparations.”
“Only a little?”
The words were innocent, but the smirk that accompanied her signs was far from it.
She had to let go of his arm to make the gestures. Gustave was pleased when she took it again.
His satisfied feeling disappeared when he entered the library. The enormous room was full of gifts. Brightly wrapped boxes were organized into stacks that reached to the top of the lofted ceilings and leaned against bookshelves. It would take hours to go through them all and be impossible to reach any of the books until they had been removed. The woman stared with wide eyes, just as surprised as Gustave.
Marquis Corbeau was already commanding a small army of servants and scribes.
“You there. You will bring the gifts to His Majesty. You will record his impressions. You will take down his official messages of thanks.”
Collette’s taking over the administrative duties was supposed to give Gustave more time, but opening so many gifts would leave no time to search for his father or the mystery girl. He was no better off than before.
“You’ll need to build another castle to fit all these.”
Gustave smiled.
“What did she say?” Marquis Corbeau said.
“She said everyone is extremely generous to give me so many gifts.”
She gave him a look. Gustave shrugged. There was no point upsetting the marquis with an accurate translation.
“Please, what should I call you?” he signed. “What is your name?”
She had grown more comfortable, but the question set her on edge again. She crossed her arms and looked away from him.
Perhaps she wasn’t able to tell him because of the conditions of her curse.
Or maybe she just didn’t want to.
The servants had placed a chair near the scribe’s desk for Gustave. He pulled another one beside it so the woman could sit with him.
“We’ll start with gifts from royal families,” Marquis Corbeau said. “It is important that you send a heartfelt message of thanks for each one to help strengthen our relationships.”
Gustave looked at the mountains of boxes and bit back a sigh. Yes, this was an important diplomatic task.
And he wished he didn’t have to do it.
“From the royal family of Aeonia,” a servant said, offering a package.
The woman stiffened. Gustave studied her from the corner of his eye, looking for a clue. Did she have some connection to Aeonia?
The box was wrapped in silver paper with golden illustrations of goats painted on it.
“Do you think they sent you a goat?” she signed.
“What did she say?” Marquis Corbeau demanded.
“She said the wrapping paper is very shiny. She likes shiny things because they’re pretty.”
He didn’t try to keep the sarcasm from his tone. This time it was the woman who bit back a grin. She raised her hand to cover her smile, and Marquis Corbeau looked at the two of them suspiciously. Gustave did his best to keep an innocent expression as he tore open the wrapping paper and pulled out the gift.
It was a sweater. Cashmere from the feel of it.
And it was the ugliest thing Gustave had ever seen.
<
br /> The fabric, while soft, was bright red with yellow and orange stripes of seagulls flying across it. Each gull had a jeweled eye that sparkled and reflected color through the room as the fabric moved.
Gustave turned to his companion, but she was too surprised to comment. She stared at the sweater with her mouth hanging open.
“They included a note,” Marquis Corbeau said.
He pulled a small piece of parchment from the remains of the wrapping paper and read aloud.
“Prince Stefan and Princess Carina offer their good wishes for His Majesty King Gustave’s birthday and hope he enjoys this sweater designed by Bastien, Head Tailor and Royal Designer of Aeonia. The designer calls it A Study of Cashmere and Sunset.”
Marquis Corbeau took the sweater from the stunned Gustave and handed it to a servant. The jewels sent even more flashes of light around the library as she folded the sweater and tucked it into a box.
“We need to record your thoughts, Your Majesty,” the scribe said. “What thanks would you like to send the royal family of Aeonia for this generous gift?”
Generous did not begin to cover it. Blast Stefan and Carina.
Gustave looked around the room trying to think of something appropriate to say.
“Will they expect you to wear that?” the woman signed. “Tell Marquis Corbeau that I think you should wear the sweater to your birthday gala as a sign of diplomatic goodwill towards Aeonia.”
Gustave glared at her. He couldn’t picture a single occasion that would be appropriate for him to wear that monstrosity.
“What did she say?” Marquis Corbeau said. “Honestly, Your Majesty, it will take ages to open these gifts if she keeps interrupting.”
The woman stuck her tongue out at the marquis. Fortunately, he was looking at Gustave and didn’t notice. Gustave gave her a sideways glance.
“She said that the sweater is beautiful because it is so shiny, and she wishes she had one like it. I would like to offer it to her as a way to welcome her to Montaigne. Perhaps she would honor me by wearing it to the gala?”
She crossed her arms and glared at Gustave. Marquis Corbeau looked horrified.
“Your Majesty can’t offer a birthday gift from the royal family of Aeonia to someone else!”
“Ha! You’re stuck with it.”
The scribe sitting at the desk cleared his throat.
“What message would Your Majesty like to send to Aeonia?”
Gustave swallowed. What on earth could he say about the sweater that would not start a war? Diplomacy had never been so difficult.
“Tell them it left you speechless.”
It was better than anything he could think of. Gustave nodded.
“Tell the royal family of Aeonia that their generous gift was so unique that it left me speechless. I literally do not have words to express my feelings of thanks.”
Marquis Corbeau nodded his approval. Gustave sighed and leaned back in his chair. Surely the gifts couldn’t get any worse than that.
“This one is from Lord Panais,” Marquis Corbeau said.
“Lady Annabelle’s father,” Gustave signed to explain the concerned face he was making.
He eyed the box suspiciously. It was rectangular and flat and wrapped in a crimson cloth. Probably not a sweater.
“Any guesses?” he asked the woman.
She studied the gift.
“Art?”
“Perhaps.”
Marquis Corbeau rolled his eyes and did not request a translation. Gustave untied the ribbon and pulled the red cloth away.
He saw a gilded gold frame first. Then he saw the painting and forgot all about the frame.
A portrait of a naked woman stared back at him. She was tastefully covered by carefully draped hair and flowing fabric, but the overall effect was undeniably seductive. Gustave blinked at the portrait and felt his face go red.
“Your Majesty, what is the- oh dear.”
Marquis Corbeau stared at the portrait, just as shocked as Gustave. Gustave heard rustling and turned. The woman bent over to pick up a note that had fallen to the ground. She read it and began shaking with silent laughter.
“It isn’t funny,” Gustave said.
She was laughing too hard to reply and handed him the note instead. Gustave read it aloud.
“Your Majesty, please accept this recently commissioned portrait of my daughter, Lady Annabelle, as-”
Gustave stopped reading the note. He handed the portrait to Marquis Corbeau who handed it to a servant. He hadn’t paid much attention to the portrait’s face before, but he looked at it now.
Yes, it was Lady Annabelle.
“What a unique gift,” Marquis Corbeau said in a choked voice.
The woman was laughing so hard that she was in danger of falling out of her seat.
“Unique indeed,” she signed. “If it makes any difference, she is supposed to represent an ancient goddess. It said so in the note.”
“Is that so?” Gustave said. “Marquis, please tell me that the rest of the suitable local ladies you’ve invited to the gala have not also sent gifts.”
“Perhaps she’ll come to the gala like that. If she does, you can offer her the Aeonian sweater to wear. I almost hope she does. Someone should get use out of that monstrosity.”
“You’re one to talk about going places unclothed.”
Gustave signed the words before thinking. The moment his hands made the gestures, he wished he could take them back. The woman’s face fell, and all traces of laughter left her eyes.
Stupid. This was why he always thought before he spoke. A king couldn’t afford careless comments!
“Forgive me,” Gustave whispered. “I did not mean it like that.”
“What are you two talking about?” Marquis Corbeau said.
“She suggested that I offer Lady Annabelle the Aeonian sweater as cover.”
Was it Gustave’s imagination, or did a flicker of amusement cross Marquis Corbeau’s face?
“What message of thanks would Your Majesty like to send?” the scribe asked.
Good grief. What could he possibly say in such a situation?
“You could say that you appreciate the effort she has put into catching your attention by throwing herself at you naked, but that another lady beat her to it.”
The woman had a dangerous gleam in her eyes. Gustave swallowed, unsure what to do. She studied him for a moment, then shrugged.
“I know you meant no offense,” she signed, offering a small smile.
Gustave let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. He hadn’t offended her with his careless comment. Thank goodness for that.
“Your message?” the scribe prompted again.
“Perhaps a simple thank you and a complement to the artist would suffice,” Marquis Corbeau suggested.
Gustave nodded.
“Yes, that will do very well.”
“And where would your Majesty like the painting to be displayed?” a servant asked.
“Somewhere my grandmother won’t see it,” Gustave said.
“Perhaps your private chamber?”
The woman’s blue eyes twinkled with amusement. Gustave shook his head.
“She’s not my type.”
Out loud he said, “We’ll leave it in the library with the other gifts for now. Put it by the sweater.”
26
Fiora didn’t try to hide her amusement as the servant tucked the nude portrait of Lady Annabelle under the sweater. It seemed the people of Montaigne were even more desperate to marry off King Gustave than she had been to catch a husband in a Princess Test.
Although, she had never tried sending such a portrait ahead of time. Maybe it would have been effective.
Maybe Lina had done that to catch Alaric.
As much as Fiora wanted to believe the worst about them, she didn’t think that was the case. Alaric had not responded well to Fiora’s flirting. Or anyone’s flirting. He probably would have been just as scandalized to receive th
e portrait as King Gustave was now.
Fiora glanced at Gustave, and her grin widened. He was still bright red and trying to recover his composure. Was he truly that shy? Or perhaps just unsure how to respond as a gentleman? He had been equally flustered yet considerate when he found her on the beach.
She blushed. If she had been trying to catch King Gustave’s attention, that would have been a bold move. And possibly an effective one, since she had somehow ended up as his personal guest in the castle.
But she wasn’t trying, and it had been an accident. She didn’t care about Gustave. Staying in the castle was simply the best hiding place at the moment.
Although Zoe had found her in a single day, so perhaps it wasn’t such a good hiding place after all.
The servants brought another gift to Gustave. Another painting judging from the shape of it, but this one was much bigger. The package was nearly as tall as Fiora.
It was wrapped in thick, brown paper likely chosen for durability rather than appearance. The gift was far less attractive than the rest of the brightly colored parcels and considerably more disheveled.
“It looks like it had a long journey,” Fiora commented.
Gustave nodded.
“Who sent this one?” he asked.
“Princess Elspeth of Kell.”
Fiora flinched at the mention of her sister’s name. Gustave looked concerned. It was unlikely that he knew Elspeth, so he was probably imagining another scandalous portrait.
Would Elspeth try such a thing? She had never needed such tactics before. Her sweet smile and soft voice were usually enough to get her way with whatever man she needed to manipulate at the moment.
Fiora shifted in her chair as Gustave unwrapped the present. He had some trouble tearing it open, but eventually managed to free a corner. A silver frame peeked out from under the paper. Gustave swallowed, and Fiora leaned forward to get a better look.
A servant offered Gustave a small knife, which he used to cut away the rest of the wrapping. Then he pulled it back to reveal a floor-length mirror.
Gustave sighed in relief, and Fiora sank into her seat. She wasn’t sure what she had expected, but this wasn’t it. A mirror seemed a strange gift to give a king for his birthday.
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