Clara felt herself become even warmer and knew her cheeks would have turned distinctly pink.
“Quick, gather your stepsons.” Almarine changed the subject. “An advance has been sent to the palace. Dinner will be hot and ready when we get there, but we shouldn’t tarry. I’ll wait here.”
Clara climbed down the steps of the carriage and went to the door of her home. When she’d left that morning, she’d had no idea of the adventure awaiting her. Fate and chance were indeed mind-boggling.
Clara entered the house and called out, “Henryk! Beaumont! John!”
Beaumont and John appeared from the kitchen.
“Where were you?” John asked. “Henryk’s not come home.”
“Studying too much again. Might have stayed with a friend.” Beaumont sniffed.
Clara could feel the bravado in the words, the false resentment. All their fates hinged on Henryk’s successful studies and graduation. If these boys had become uncouth, it had been as a means to alleviate their embarrassment of being poor and going without. Better to cover their lack of resources with bold audacity and recklessness than drown in inequity. She could sympathize even if she didn’t approve.
“We’ll find him tomorrow. For now, come with me. I have a surprise for you. Queen Almarine is waiting in a carriage outside the door to take us to dinner at the palace.”
Even as she said the words, Clara realized how absurd they would sound to anyone who hadn’t been through the adventure of her day.
They both snickered.
“Don’t tease us,” John said. “That’s just mean when it’s hot porridge for breakfast and cold porridge for dinner.”
“John?” Beaumont had drifted to the front door and peered out. His eyes grew nearly as wide as saucers.
“What?” John went to stand next to Beaumont. He looked out and his mouth opened.
Clara felt an intense satisfaction for the briefest of moments. “Hurry up now. The queen is waiting.”
HENRYK RAISED AN eyebrow at the prince, but he spoke to the guard. “It is morning and I have some observations to report to Princess Jacobina, when she has time to meet with me.”
“You’ll have to wait until the change. Orders are not to leave you alone with His Highness.” The guard narrowed his eyes at Henryk, looking as if he suspected the worst.
Prince Roald straightened in bed. “Soldier, you are dismissed. Please summon Princess Jacobina at her earliest convenience.”
“But, sire—”
“You are dismissed.” The prince’s voice left no room for argument. He had given a command.
“Yes, sire.” The guard moved to the door, all the while throwing a look of flying daggers at Henryk. “I’ll return in a minute.” He left and the door closed with a thud behind him.
“My orders still carry more weight than my sister’s,” the prince said mildly and then turned his full attention to Henryk. “Speak, man!” All mildness had fled. The prince leaned forward. His eyes were bright within his strained face. “What have you seen?”
Henryk sucked in air at the intensity of the prince’s words. He was keenly interested, as if waiting for a great proclamation, and not at all accusatory. The emotion brought to bear gave Henryk pause. This was not a man caught sneaking out at night in an effort to escape his duties. It was a man eager to hear his jail sentence had been commuted.
Henryk summarized the night’s adventure as succinctly as he could. “You escaped by way of the trap door and went to an enchanted land. You traveled by boat to an island with a great feast, an orchestra, and a dancing floor. You danced all night and raced for home the moment dawn appeared on the horizon.” Henryk fumbled for the handkerchief and silver twig with leaf and acorn in his pocket. Henryk had worried the magical objects might vanish upon his return, but they remained in his possession. “Look, I have proof. From the breast pocket in the suit that you discarded in the rowboat. And from a tree near the lake.”
“Yes,” the prince hissed. “Yes! You did see! However did you do it?” The prince stumbled from his bed and dropped to the floor at Henryk’s knees, looking more like a supplicant than a prince on the cusp of claiming his kingship. He reached out to feel the edge of the handkerchief. “And you brought back evidence.”
“Sire. Sire, no. Please stand.” Henryk bent down to grasp the prince’s hands and pull him up. Horror filled him at the lowered posture. If a guard had come through the door and seen the prince begging at Henryk’s feet, Henryk would have been treated to a one-way trip to the gallows within the day.
Henryk succeeded in pulling the prince to a standing position. Face-to-face, Henryk realized the prince and he were about the same height. The prince of last night looked dashing in his expensive suit, but the prince of this moment looked vulnerable and hopeful. The slight parting of his lips, the way he strained in Henryk’s grasp and drew in air as if to stand and fight, made Henryk flush. He could not deny the physical attraction he felt for the prince and realized it meant all the more that he must take care in his interaction with his sovereign.
“Come back to bed. Come, here. I’ll sit next to you.” Henryk led the prince back to bed. They sat side by side along the edge. “How long?” Henryk asked. “How long have you been cursed?”
“Since shortly before father died,” the prince said. “At first, no one realized. Part of the curse was that I could not speak of it with someone who did not already know. I couldn’t even ask for help. I had to go on as if there was nothing wrong. But every night, I was impelled to go through the trap door, and every dawn, I was released to come back. If I failed to return before the sun rose, I would be trapped there forever. But I could not resist the curse to go there unless I was under direct observation.”
“Did no one sit vigil enough to keep you here?” Henryk despaired at the prince’s story. He could hardly imagine being forced to escape and dance night after night, with no recourse or end in sight.
“They tried, but they always fell asleep. Or found some great urgency to leave my side. A part of the curse, I believe.” The prince clenched his fists. “How did you resist? How did you know?”
Henryk thought of the cloak. He had initially fallen asleep, despite his best attempts at remaining awake. Perhaps having the cloak in his possession had been enough to wake him at the precise moment he’d needed to be awake. It had been a lucky thing.
“Luck,” Henryk said. “And advice from an old woman.”
The prince snorted. “Was she a witch? Because you must be careful with them. They will turn your best wishes against you.”
“No,” said Henryk. “She was a kind woman and a wise one. But is that how you became cursed? A witch?”
The prince sighed. “I must admit. The curse was my own fault. Be careful what you wish for. A lesson I have learned with my whole being.”
“How did it happen?”
“On my birthday last year, I went to see the enchantress that has been with our family for years. The royal witch. She advised my father on many matters, foretold the future, revealed secrets, and kept the family safe. I trusted her, and when I went to her, it was with a very heavy heart. You see, I had never fallen in love.”
“Not at all? Not even once?” Henryk thought of his younger school days. He’d fallen in and out of love weekly. Sometimes daily. Sometimes being infatuated with one schoolmate in the morning and another on the walk home. None of them had been a long-lasting love. His infatuations eventually faded. Love was elusive. He supposed for a prince, it might be even more complicated.
“No. And I longed for someone. Who doesn’t want a partner to share their life with? I knew in the future that responsibilities would fall to me. So I asked the witch to find me my true love. She cast a spell for me.”
“But she really cursed you instead?” Henryk tried to wrap his mind around that. “Why would she betray you like that?”
“I would like to ask her exactly that. Because of the dancing, being unable to eat earthly food, and unable to spe
ak of my predicament to anyone, I haven’t had the strength to seek her out again. And I never did meet my true love. I danced with every single person down in the enchanted world, and not one made my heart flutter.” The prince looked down at his hands, the corners of his mouth drooping. The dimple in his cheek vanished. “I kept hoping one of them would turn out to be my true love. There had to be a reason I was compelled to go dancing there every night.”
“You are safe now, sire.” Henryk dared to put one of his hands on top of the prince’s and gave it a pat.
“Am I?” The prince shook his head. “I don’t feel any different. Is the curse broken?”
Henryk clenched one fist. He hadn’t considered the possibility. He had assumed since he now knew the prince’s secret that the curse would have dissolved on its own. Wasn’t that how curses worked?
“I believe it is.” Henryk made his voice sound surer than he felt. “But if it is not, then I will help you figure out how to break it. Is the royal witch still around? Let’s go see her and ask.”
“She is. She lives in the tower rooms of the palace. In the largest turret. She claims she can read the stars better if she is nearer the sky.”
Henryk reached for a nearby shirt and handed it to the prince. “Get dressed. We’ll go and see her right away.”
CLARA WOKE GENTLY from her dream. It had been a most delicious one. Full of adventure and excellent food. She’d made a new friend and found she was suddenly less alone than she’d felt in a long time. There had been a quest to find white mice and some obstacle around a heavy pumpkin. At the end, she’d returned triumphantly home and two of her stepsons had nearly unhinged their jaws at the sight of her.
Clara shifted in her bed. The sheets were soft and fresh. Her dream lingered on. She didn’t want to open her eyes and face the day. Force down more porridge and toil in the house. Humble herself with shop owners in the hopes they would take pity on her and trade well for her meager selection of eggs. Eggs. She needed to get up and check on the chickens and hunt for the eggs. But she wanted to stay and enjoy the last remnants of this dream.
“Clara? Are you awake?”
With the voice of Almarine, everything shifted. Clara remembered it hadn’t been a dream, but reality. She had been on an adventure. The adventure wasn’t over because she’d been invited to stay at the palace. John and Beaumont, stunned and awed, had been whisked along with her over the streets and through the palace gate. By the time they’d reached the palace, it had grown late, but supper had been served as if eating in the night was commonplace. They enjoyed a scrumptious dinner followed by a creamy, dense cake for dessert. The boys had been directed to a guest bedroom for the night. Clara and Almarine had retired to a cozy side room with incredibly comfortable sofas. They’d chatted for a few precious minutes before Clara’s eyes had felt too heavy to keep open and she’d fallen asleep on the soft velvet sofa.
Clara opened her eyes. The warmth against her side was Almarine. She stretched out alongside Clara on the luxurious sofa. A thick, plush blanket had been thrown over her.
“You looked comfortable. I didn’t want to wake you to move to a bedroom,” Almarine said.
“You stayed.” Clara scooted to a sitting position. “You could have gone to your own bed.”
Almarine shifted as well, her hand catching Clara’s. “I could have, but then I’d have been without you. I’d prefer to have your company. For the present and for the future.”
Clara smiled.
A sharp knock came at the door. “Mother?”
“Come in, Jacobina,” Almarine called out. She turned back to Clara. “Let’s refresh ourselves and find some new clothes, then start our day. Do you need to have anything attended to at your home? I can send a page. Less alarming than sending a guard.”
Clara thought of her chickens, but they could take care of themselves for the day and she could collect the eggs later. Everything else would wait. “Not this morning. Later, perhaps. I’d like to oversee things myself.”
“Of course.” Almarine turned to her daughter, who had let herself into the room and now approached them with an anxious expression on her face. “We slept in a bit, but I think we’re almost ready for breakfast. Perhaps a bath after that.”
“There’s no time, Mother! Roald is awake! He’s gone to see Sofia in the tower!” Jacobina looked ready to take action. She made urgent motions with her arms. “Come quickly! Something has happened!”
“What? How?” Almarine rose to join her daughter. “What changed? Was it your campaign to find a wise person?”
“We’ll find out!” Jacobina began walking with her mother at her elbow.
Clara’s own blood spiked with energy. She hurried to catch up with them.
“I met with a man who offered his help, and I allowed him to sit up the night with Roald. Under guard, of course. Now Roald has ordered the guard out, and he and the man have gone to the staircase that leads to the tower where Sofia resides.” Jacobina summarized the events in a terse voice.
Clara recognized the style. Almarine had used the same tone the evening before when she’d commanded the soldiers sent out to rescue her. Mother and daughter were alike.
“Also, sometime in the night, the mice became men again, and some of them became horses. Which turned out to be an issue since we hadn’t known which was which and we’d unwisely put them all in one of the sitting rooms.” Jacobina tossed her head with impatient amusement. It didn’t slow down her walking speed at all. “It was quite the sight, seeing the horses led through the halls and down the stairs. A bit tricky for the stable masters to get them out safely.”
“Good,” said Almarine. “I worried for them. You never do know how long these blasted curses will last. What about the pumpkin?”
“Turned back into a carriage.” Jacobina cast a glance to her mother. “You were right to suggest putting it in the bay, but the problem with pumpkins is that there’s no way to know which is front and which is back.”
“So it transformed facing the wrong way?”
“Facing sideways. The carriage hands are beside themselves trying to figure out how to move it. There aren’t but a few inches between the carriage and the walls!”
Almarine laughed, but it was a shaky sound. “They’ll figure it out. They’re the smartest in the land. Although it seems we’ve all been shunted sideways in this entire venture.”
“Agreed.”
A man in long robes and a group of guards milled around an entrance, and Jacobina charged into them. They parted for her with a ripple of motion.
“Your Highness, they went up several minutes ago. No one has come back down.” The man in the long robes spoke even as Jacobina, Almarine, and Clara passed him.
“Thank you, Lars,” Jacobina said.
“Shall I accompany you?” he asked.
Jacobina cast a look to her mother and caught sight of Clara behind. “I think we have all the necessary personnel for the moment. You can stay down here for now. I’ll call for you if we need you.”
Lars sniffed.
They began to ascend the stairs. After two dozen stairs spiraling upward and one door that Jacobina didn’t bother to open, she spoke again. “Is it too much to hope the curse is broken?”
“It is never too much to hope.” Almarine kept pace with her daughter up the stairs.
Clara stayed behind them and remained quiet. She had nothing to offer. She knew the prince had been ill but not much about the circumstances of his sickness other than what Almarine had recounted yesterday during their discussion. Almarine hadn’t divulged that she thought it to be a curse, but it made perfect sense now why she’d been looking in the forest for a witch to create a potion. If one of her stepsons had been cursed, Clara wouldn’t have shared that information around town either.
Clara found the tower they had entered to be fascinating. She’d never been inside a turret before. The staircase spiraled tightly with small windows set along one side to provide light. The shape of it, and t
he occasional door they passed, suggested they traveled up the center of the tower, and there were circular rooms all around them on each level. Jacobina had mentioned that Sofia lived there, and Clara wondered what sort of person lived in such a place in the palace.
Finally, at the top of the staircase, there stood a door. It slanted partially ajar, and indistinct voices filtered out from the room. Jacobina and Almarine entered first, and Clara slipped in behind them.
The room was indeed round. Clara noted tables, bookshelves full of books, a few chairs, a strange and beautiful table holding water in a basin, but the most captivating sight was the skylights set in the ceiling. Clara marveled at it. She could almost reach out to touch the puff of white clouds in the blue sky. Then she returned her attention to the people in the room.
A beautiful woman stood in the center of the room, with a scarlet cloak in her arms and an enigmatic smile on her face. Next to her stood a thin, handsome young man Clara assumed to be the prince, and next to him was Henryk.
Clara blinked. That made no sense, yet there he was. He could be no one else other than her Henryk. She took a step toward him, and he turned and saw her. His eyes widened.
“Clara?” he said.
“Henryk?” she said.
The beautiful woman began to laugh.
“YOUR FEET?” HENRYK asked. He remembered the prince’s comment in the boat about wearing out his shoes. “Are you able to walk?”
“I’m too excited to care. They stopped hurting the moment you spoke to me this morning.” The prince stepped forward with determination.
Henryk took Prince Roald’s hand, and together they left the bedroom. The hallways contained the early morning chill of damp stone, and Henryk found himself glad to have the red cloak around his shoulders as it offered warmth. The cold did not seem to touch Prince Roald as he dashed through the hallway with his focus fixed forward.
“Here is the entry to her tower.” Prince Roald grabbed the door handle, and they went through the opening.
“She’s at the top of all these stairs?” Henryk craned his neck. The stairs spiraled above him endlessly.
Once Upon the Rainbow, Volume Two Page 32