Princess of the Silver Woods (Twelve Dancing Princesses) by Jessica Day George Page B

would have had her on trial for witchcraft in a heartbeat. But don’t worry, the Church has long since made things right, and he got what he deserved.”
    “That’s good,” Oliver said. The way that Poppy kept looking over her shoulder made Oliver think that they would leave soon. It was time to ask his own questions.
    “Are my men all right?”
    “For now,” Poppy said. “Until Father decides what to do with
you
.”
    “That’s good,” Oliver said again, not sure what else to say. He wanted them released, but he supposed that they were just as guilty. “And Petunia? Have you heard from your sister?”
    “Not since the first day,” Pansy said.
    She pushed in next to Poppy so that she could see him around the guard’s elbow. She was as tall as Poppy, with shining dark-brown hair and blue eyes. An utterly lovely girl, as all the princesses were, yet Oliver thought Petunia was far more beautiful.
    “We got one letter explaining that she’d gotten lost and had to find her own way to the manor, but nothing since. Did you really kidnap her?”
    “It was an accident, but yes,” Oliver said. “She saw me and my brother with our masks off, so we snatched her before she could raise the alarm. She stayed with us one night, and then I took her to the manor. Quite unharmed, I assure you.”
    “And things at the estate, they seemed … all right … to you?” Pansy pressed.
    Oliver started to say that they had been fine, but then he stopped. “I don’t know.” He leaned forward a little, conscious more than ever of the guard. “Your Highnesses, I saw … creatures in the garden of the manor. People … made of shadow. I think they were trying to get to Petunia.” Oliver moved back a little, waiting for Poppy to scoff or Pansy to squeak in fright.
    But both the princesses surprised him.
    Poppy shrank back, and her hands twisted in her skirts. It was Pansy who stood up straighter and looked him in the eye.
    “Shadowy creatures?” Pansy’s voice was shrill despite her stern posture. “What nonsense! Come, Poppy, we’re going.” She tugged Poppy’s arm to make her move.
    Oliver stared after them. They’d believed him—he knew they had. But why were they pretending they hadn’t?
    The guard glared at Oliver. “If you’re lying, there’s a special place in hell for you.” He slammed the door in Oliver’s face, locking it with a scraping of metal that made Oliver’s teeth ache.
    He hadn’t been dreaming the shadows in the garden. One look at Poppy’s face told him that much, and Pansy’s and the guard’s reactions had confirmed it.
    “But what are they?” Oliver asked his empty room.

    After another night and morning spent pacing the tiny room, Oliver was frantic. His mother and Simon would be beside themselves with anxiety, he wanted reassurance that his men were all right, and he couldn’t stop wondering if the shadow creatures had gone after Petunia again.
    Poppy had sent books to him with his dinner tray, but he couldn’t concentrate for more than a pair of minutes. Besides his personal distractions, the books were both rather dry histories of Westfalin. Oliver wasn’t sure whether Poppy was joking or she really thought such things riveting reading for the imprisoned. A scrap of paper fell from one as he leafedthrough it, but if it had been marking a particular page, he couldn’t find it now.
    And then, just when he was expecting his lunch tray, King Gregor sent for him.
    Oliver was taken to the same room where he had first met the king, with its long, dark table and the high-backed chairs full of scowling men. The king was at the head of the table, a broad-shouldered man with wiry gray hair and wild eyebrows at his left, a gentle-faced priest at his right. The men along each side of the table were all uniformly older, grim, and dressed in black. This made the pair sitting at the end of the table all the more striking.
    Opposite King Gregor at the foot of the table was a young man with