robert, its curves, its hidden crannies. I wanted to know it. Not just the polished mansions and the sculpted gardens, but the warped wooden doors, the rusted balconies, the broken tiles. And the people who live in it. I do know them. I can barter with a blacksmith, outsell a paperboy, or coax a tart from a stingy baker."
Or a story from an old seaman, robert thought.
"I could never do any of those things dressed as a princess," Aurelia said, "with a train of guards at my heels." There was an earnest tone to her voice, an honesty that held him. As did the irony of her words. That is why the people like her, he thought. They want her as a ruler because she does not behave like one.
As she neared the front gate, Aurelia placed a hand on his shoulder. "Wait awhile before coming through. I would not want the guard to blame you for my leaving."
she began to pull away, but robert caught her inner elbow. strands of dark hair had begun to escape from beneath her white cap. "you're safe in the palace where the guards can protect you," he said, willing himself to believe it. "I'm certain that is why the last attempt happened on the street. Tell me you will let me know the next time you leave."
she met his gaze, gave a faint half smile, then removed his fingers from her elbow and walked toward the gate.
The promise did not come.
Chapter Seven
THE PULSE OF POLITICS
THE PARTY WAS LOVELY, SO LOVELY EVEN AURELIA was enjoying herself. Candles glowed from every windowsill in the ballroom. A mixture of men in dark frock coats and women in blue and purple gowns visited with one another. Champagne glasses clinked, toasting her. Aurelia nodded at the smiling faces, thanking the guests for their good wishes. She stepped through the crowd, steering a path to the dance floor. Someone was waiting for her.
A glimpse of her father brought her to a halt. He was speaking with Henry but turned to salute her with a glass. The king smiled and beckoned. A pathway opened up until she was close enough to hear his voice over the chattering crowd and humming music. He bent his head down close. "I'm so proud of you, my dear," he whispered, giving her a light kiss on the forehead, then raising up in rich laughter. Henry joined in. Aurelia did not catch what they said as she returned to her quest to reach the ballroom's center.
Elise blocked her path, towering oddly above Aurelia's head. The queen's snow-white gown clashed with the sea of dark party wear. She did not look at her stepdaughter, instead resting her eyes above Aurelia's tiara. "Here she is, lost among the crowd," Elise said, her shrill voice echoing above the din. She was speaking to someone just behind Aurelia's left shoulder.
Then she chastised her stepdaughter. "You need to begin the first waltz, silly child. No one can have the pleasure of dancing at your wedding until you do so first." The queen reached out, took Aurelia's hand in her gloved grasp, and pushed with astonishing power.
Stepping back, Aurelia felt a cold, viselike grip close around her upper left arm. It steered her free of the crowd out to the center of the dance floor. The music stopped, and the voices quieted. Even the clinking of crystal ceased. Across the empty space, a thousand eyes blurred into a hazy fog.
The viselike grip on her arm turned her around. She gazed at a black cravat resting on a black silk shirt between the folds of a black frock coat. Her eyes raised to see the face of the owner of the cravat, the shirt, the coat, and the grip molded to her arm. But there was no face to see.
She was staring into the hollow pits of an empty black skull.
Aurelia jolted awake, her chest aching with terror. she gasped for breath, trying to squeeze extra air from the lungs caging her heart. The nightmare skull seared her mind. she reached a shaking hand up to her forehead, pushing back thick strands of hair. Then her eyes ran fearfully around the room, peering into the shadows. Nothing. No one.
she stumbled out of
Or a story from an old seaman, robert thought.
"I could never do any of those things dressed as a princess," Aurelia said, "with a train of guards at my heels." There was an earnest tone to her voice, an honesty that held him. As did the irony of her words. That is why the people like her, he thought. They want her as a ruler because she does not behave like one.
As she neared the front gate, Aurelia placed a hand on his shoulder. "Wait awhile before coming through. I would not want the guard to blame you for my leaving."
she began to pull away, but robert caught her inner elbow. strands of dark hair had begun to escape from beneath her white cap. "you're safe in the palace where the guards can protect you," he said, willing himself to believe it. "I'm certain that is why the last attempt happened on the street. Tell me you will let me know the next time you leave."
she met his gaze, gave a faint half smile, then removed his fingers from her elbow and walked toward the gate.
The promise did not come.
Chapter Seven
THE PULSE OF POLITICS
THE PARTY WAS LOVELY, SO LOVELY EVEN AURELIA was enjoying herself. Candles glowed from every windowsill in the ballroom. A mixture of men in dark frock coats and women in blue and purple gowns visited with one another. Champagne glasses clinked, toasting her. Aurelia nodded at the smiling faces, thanking the guests for their good wishes. She stepped through the crowd, steering a path to the dance floor. Someone was waiting for her.
A glimpse of her father brought her to a halt. He was speaking with Henry but turned to salute her with a glass. The king smiled and beckoned. A pathway opened up until she was close enough to hear his voice over the chattering crowd and humming music. He bent his head down close. "I'm so proud of you, my dear," he whispered, giving her a light kiss on the forehead, then raising up in rich laughter. Henry joined in. Aurelia did not catch what they said as she returned to her quest to reach the ballroom's center.
Elise blocked her path, towering oddly above Aurelia's head. The queen's snow-white gown clashed with the sea of dark party wear. She did not look at her stepdaughter, instead resting her eyes above Aurelia's tiara. "Here she is, lost among the crowd," Elise said, her shrill voice echoing above the din. She was speaking to someone just behind Aurelia's left shoulder.
Then she chastised her stepdaughter. "You need to begin the first waltz, silly child. No one can have the pleasure of dancing at your wedding until you do so first." The queen reached out, took Aurelia's hand in her gloved grasp, and pushed with astonishing power.
Stepping back, Aurelia felt a cold, viselike grip close around her upper left arm. It steered her free of the crowd out to the center of the dance floor. The music stopped, and the voices quieted. Even the clinking of crystal ceased. Across the empty space, a thousand eyes blurred into a hazy fog.
The viselike grip on her arm turned her around. She gazed at a black cravat resting on a black silk shirt between the folds of a black frock coat. Her eyes raised to see the face of the owner of the cravat, the shirt, the coat, and the grip molded to her arm. But there was no face to see.
She was staring into the hollow pits of an empty black skull.
Aurelia jolted awake, her chest aching with terror. she gasped for breath, trying to squeeze extra air from the lungs caging her heart. The nightmare skull seared her mind. she reached a shaking hand up to her forehead, pushing back thick strands of hair. Then her eyes ran fearfully around the room, peering into the shadows. Nothing. No one.
she stumbled out of
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