by Alyssa Moon
“But first?” her mother prodded.
“Find the knot.” Delphine saw exactly what Maman meant. “You find the knot! You cut it!”
“Exactly. And then what happens?”
“One after another, the stitches all come undone,” said Delphine slowly. In her mind’s eye, she saw the needle hanging over her bed, waiting to be taken to the castle.
She would find the knot.
All too soon, Friday arrived. It was the last night before the ball. Maman volunteered to take Delphine’s shift in the nursery so that she could get a few extra sewing hours. Delphine was all too happy to accept.
She hurried through the passageway to her workshop, heading past the stepsisters’ bedrooms. Even through the wall, she could hear them both screaming at Cinderella to start over on their dresses. Delphine gritted her teeth in sympathy. Poor Cinderella. She scurried on, up a tiny spiral staircase and past the grain storage barrels that the kitchen mice had slowly been filling for winter.
Inside Delphine’s workshop, half-finished pieces of the princess’s gown were strewn across every surface, all in various states of embroidery, beading, trimming, stitching, and finishing. Delphine sighed. Like Cinderella, she had her work cut out for her. But it was still early, and she had plenty of time to finish, if she just focused.
At that moment, the pitter-patter of little claws on wood sounded in the hallway. A head popped around the doorway, full-cheeked and wide-eyed. “Delfeenie! At your service.”
“Gus!” Delphine cried, a grin spreading across her face. She hopped off her spool-stool and flew across the workshop, hugging her friend so tightly that the bright green cap fell off his head. “What are you doing here?”
“Come to help, of course!” She could see that he was carrying a paper packet of marzipan tarts under his arm. “Whatever you need, Delfeenie, just say the word.” He placed the packet on one of the spool-stools. “I even brought snacks, hot from the oven.”
Delphine was touched by his kindness. Marzipan tarts were a rare treat.
A rumbling suddenly filled the hall, and then Jaq appeared, rolling several candle ends through the doorway. He bustled around the room to determine their optimal placement, and in no time, Delphine’s workshop was better lit than it had ever been.
Thus passed the rest of the night, with the three friends working to finish every stitch, bow, and embellishment on the finest ball gown to have ever been created at Château Desjardins.
But with every stitch of her tiny mouse needle, Delphine thought again and again of the human needles she had seen in the tapestries. It was strange—a week ago, an invitation to the castle was the biggest thing that had ever happened to her. Now her world seemed to be expanding even further, unfurling before her like a giant patchwork quilt.
Delphine wondered . . . what answers would tomorrow bring?
Delphine rifled through her drawers, scrambling to find a clean outfit to wear to the castle. How could she have not planned this the night before? Rays of morning light were already streaming through her window. She upended acorn-cap containers full of tail-ribbons, then dug through the folded laundry on top of her dresser to find an apron. At the last moment, she snatched up her traveling cloak against the early-morning chill that was becoming more and more prominent as fall began to take hold.
The princess’s gown was just where Delphine had left it, hanging in the middle of her workshop, wrapped carefully in an old sheet. All of the accoutrements sat alongside it in a big drawstring sack. She unhooked the wrapped bundle from the beam and managed to wrangle it through the passageways to the mouse front door. Outside, a few early risers greeted her merrily, including Cittine and Margeaux.
“Back to the castle, Delphine?” chirped Cittine.
“Is that the dress, then?” trilled Margeaux.
“Yes, and yes!” called Delphine.
“We’ll help you when the cart arrives!” they twittered.
Delphine positioned herself alongside the turnaround where the carts always stopped. Today, it would be the cheesemonger. There was still dew on the grassy stalks nearby, and she kept the dress bundle well away. She could keep the drawstring sack off the ground by slinging it across her back. Then came the clack of the horse’s hooves on the stone pathway to the château as the anticipated cart drew into sight.
Delphine stayed back until the cart had come to a stop and the human had descended, whistling with her delivery of fresh cheeses. As she headed toward the servants’ door of the château, Delphine scampered toward the cart with her bundle in tow. It took a lot of pushing by Delphine’s paws and lifting by Cittine’s and Margeaux’s beaks, but they finally managed to get the precious dress loaded into the back of the cart. She climbed in alongside it, waving adieu to Margeaux and Cittine as they fluttered back up to the tower ledge.
Then Delphine shot upright.
The needle!
It was still hanging over her bed.
Without a moment’s hesitation, she ran to the side of the cart. No cheesemonger. Hopefully she was still inside, enjoying a morning croissant. Hurriedly, Delphine dove over the side of the cart and ran back to the château, sack still slung over her shoulder.
Heart racing so fast she thought it would burst, Delphine threw open the mouse door and dashed madly through the passageways. Her mother had already left, probably to head to the kitchen for the fresh crumbs Cinderella always saved for the mice of the château. Just as well, Delphine thought. She wouldn’t have wanted to explain why the needle was suddenly more important than the gown. Truth be told, she wasn’t certain herself.
Dashing into her bedroom, Delphine yanked the needle off its iron hooks. Then she impulsively grabbed the old linens that had been draped alongside it, and wrapped them around the needle as protection. She managed to wedge it into the bag holding the extra baubles and accoutrements for the princess, like a quiver holding a very long arrow.
Delphine rushed out, slamming the door behind her and praying that she hadn’t made any of their glasses fall off the shelves in the process. She bolted back down through the passageways and around the twisting corners. She could barely breathe. If the cart left without her . . . with the dress inside . . .
Scrambling through the front door, Delphine saw the cart still waiting. Relief coursed through her. She scurried across the gravel path, nearly to the cart.
And then Lucifer emerged from around the corner of the château garden. His tail lashed from side to side, green eyes flashing. His lips curled in a sly smile, flashing sharp teeth. Before she had a chance to react, he was already running pell-mell across the dirt toward her, his eyes frenzied with a look that gave Delphine chills.
She broke into a mad dash, the sack with the baubles and needle banging against her back. She reached the bottom of the cart. Her first desperate leap got her close to the wheel spokes, but not close enough. She could feel Lucifer’s hot, foul breath on the backs of her ears. She leapt again, managing to dig her mouse claws into the wood of the spokes. Lucifer swiped his paw and she barely dodged it, then scampered up the side of the cart as the paw came back again in the other direction. Scrambling onto the top edge of the cart, she dropped the sack inside and leapt down after it, out of pouncing distance and harm’s way.
Delphine collapsed in a heap, feeling the rough wood under her fur. All she wanted now was to make it to the castle without anything else going wrong. She could hear Lucifer hissing angrily from the ground, clearly too well-fed to leap up onto the cart himself.
Human boots crunched on the gravelly stones, and then the cart gave a huge shake as the cheesemonger hoisted herself back up onto her perch and clicked her tongue at the horse. The cart pulled forward, settling into a gentle rhythm along the country road. Delphine peered over the edge of the cart to see Lucifer prowling before the château in the distance, growing smaller by the second.
The other animal passengers spent most of the trip dozing. Delphine wished she could do the same, but adrenaline was still co
ursing through her, and her nerves were raw with tension. At least changing carts at the crossroads didn’t seem as intimidating this time around, and a friendly passenger helped her transfer the gown. The arrival hall in the castle courtyard was as wild as before, but now Delphine was prepared. She got the bundle down from the cart with the assistance of a court lackey and entered the massive entrance hallway. Now she just had to find a valet to help her. She squared her shoulders and began to look around.
A familiar face appeared in her vision. “Lady Delphine! What a charming surprise!”
Oh no.
Delphine took a deep breath. She was determined to behave like a court mouse, even if that meant putting up with Alexander. How would a noble respond politely? “Y-yes!” she stammered. “I mean, likewise! I have returned with the gown for the princess.” She gestured to the massive bundle.
He bowed low. This time, he was wearing a plum velvet waistcoat and vest with silver brocade lining the slashed sleeves. He held a matching velvet cap in his paw. “What a lucky turn of events that I should be here at this moment.”
“Yes.” Delphine wasn’t fooled. He knew perfectly well that she would be back today with the dress, what with the royal ball being that night. She gave him a quick, hard stare, but he smiled back pleasantly, eyes innocent.
“Will you allow me the pleasure of escorting you to the princess’s quarters again?” he asked.
“I would, uh, be delighted.” That sounded pretty courtly of her, didn’t it? “But how will we carry the gown? It’s rather heavy.”
“Milady, I shall procure a catercart.”
“A cat cart?” she squeaked, but he was already gone.
She glanced around, still awed by the grandeur of this massive hall. This time she noticed a few mice here and there dressed in a more simple style, similar to hers. That made her feel better. At least she wasn’t the only common mouse visiting the castle that day. Or perhaps they work here, she thought.
Alexander returned with a wooden cart pulled by two furry caterpillars. A leaf hung in front of the caterpillars for steering purposes. Alexander deftly navigated the catercart into place, loaded the gown into it with care, then gestured at the sack and her travel cloak. “Would it please you to place those in here as well?”
She swung the sack from her shoulder, and he positioned it onto the cart.
As he did, the eye of the needle poked out of the top of the sack. Alexander’s mouth opened and he glanced at Delphine, then back at the needle. For once, he seemed to be at a loss for words.
“I brought it,” she said, not sure what else to say.
“Then—” He swallowed. “Then it’s real?” He reached out a paw and touched the cold metal. “Incredible. A needle of the Threaded.”
“It might be, but . . .” Delphine hesitated. “I need to go back to the tapestries to compare them.”
“Of course!” He ran his paw over the few markings that weren’t hidden. “Could these be letters of some kind?” he
mused.
“I’ve wondered that, too,” she admitted. “But it’s impossible to make them out clearly. The needle is so tarnished. I’ve tried polishing it more times than I can remember. I think those markings are just lost to time.”
“Fascinating.” Alexander tucked the needle back into the bag, rewrapping it snugly. “Shall we head now to the princess’s quarters, my lady? Afterward, I would be honored to escort you to the tapestries once again!”
“I would love that,” she said, realizing that she had been so focused on getting the needle to the castle, she hadn’t even thought about how she would find her way back to that closed-off room. Maybe it was a good thing that he had been waiting for her after all.
Alexander led her along a path of wide ramp-ways clearly made for animals with wheeled conveyances. She marveled at the cleverness of the catercart as Alexander guided the caterpillars with a flick of the leaf at each turn. And almost before she realized it, they had reached the princess’s quarters.
Dressed in the new gown, Princess Petits-Oiseaux stood in front of her mirrors, gazing at Delphine’s work. The panniers lay like two evening clouds atop mounds and mounds of pale nighttime silk, draped to form the main skirts. All the beading was worth it, Delphine thought, watching how the sunlight glittered on the starry details of the bodice. Under the full moon, it would twinkle in just the same way.
The mouse princess clasped her paws together in delight, squeaking, “It’s absolutely perfect!” She gazed over her shoulder into another mirror, admiring how Delphine had interwoven strands of silver thread to create a cobweb of gossamer over the skirts and up the center of the back. The tiniest seed pearls fluttered delicately all around the hem of the skirt, thanks to the hours of hard work the night before.
One of the princess’s dainty hind paws emerged, clad in a matching night-silk slipper. “You’ve thought of simply everything!” she gushed. A crystalline crown sat nestled between the princess’s ears, creating a halo of sparkles all around her. She truly was the First Star of the Evening Sky.
The pawmaids scurried around her, fluffing the gossamer on the skirts and fiddling with the draping of the panels. Delphine stood back, her work finally done, happy to take it all in.
The princess clasped Delphine’s paw and pulled her up onto the pedestal beside her. “Thank you, my little seamstress,” she said softly. “My fairy seamstress. You are truly magical.”
Delphine looked at the two of them in the mirror. Next to the princess and her perfectly curled whiskers, she was just another commoner. But in that moment, she felt as radiant as the princess looked.
“You must make another gown for me!” Princess Petits-Oiseaux exclaimed. “We always have so many balls. The Autumnal Ball, the Winterberry Ball, the Valentine Ball . . .”
Delphine’s mouth dropped, but she regained her composure and hopped down from the pedestal so that she had enough space to curtsey. “It would be my pleasure,” she said, stealing one of Alexander’s favorite lines.
“Wonderful! Now don’t forget to stop by the kitchens before you go. The food they’re preparing for the festivities is simply marvelous! They’ll give you a little taste.” Then with a clap of her paws, the princess was lost in a sea of servants crowding about her.
Her work done, Delphine exited the royal chamber, eager to head to the hidden tapestries. But the hall was empty. It seemed her guide had disappeared. She chewed on her lip in frustration. Being beholden to Alexander, of all mice . . .
Delphine wandered through the hallways, inquiring of every half-friendly guard she came across, but nobody had seen Lord Alexander Perrault. She flagged down catercart drivers, even inquired of the mice who operated the dumbwaiters that lifted heavy wares from floor to floor. Alexander was nowhere to be found. And Delphine was getting grumpy, not to mention hungry.
Well, the princess had encouraged her to sample that evening’s wares. Making her way to the kitchens, Delphine tasted every dish—twice. She was about to go back for thirds when she suddenly noticed that the sun was setting. She had no desire to venture into the Forbidden Wing in the dark.
Shoving her way through the crowds of servers, Delphine exited the kitchens and moved into the crowded hallway. It seemed as if the entire castle were there, headed for the ball. This was hopeless. But just when she was on the verge of giving up, she spied a familiar face on the other side of the hall, and he looked positively flustered.
Alexander!
Delphine raised her paw to wave, and his face lit up. “Lady Delphine!” he called, doffing his cap from across the hallway. He struggled to cut through a cavalcade of flagon-loaded carts passing between them, each flagon filled to the brim with dandelion mead and secured on the cart with a few twists of spiderweb. Upon reaching her, he went for a deep bow and swept his cloak directly into the face of a sweaty hedgehog page, sending him flying.
Horrified, Delphine rushed to pick the little hedgehog up off the floor and help him gather his wits. She gave him
her handkerchief—he looked like he could use one—and sent him on his way. She could hear Alexander behind her, beginning his regular series of introductory pleasantries.
“Such a joy to finally espy you here, in this unexpected locale, when I have been searching all throughout . . .”
She cut him off, a bit more curtly than she meant to do. “Are we going to the tapestries now?”
“Well.” He paused, and she realized that he had changed outfits since she had last seen him. He was now decked out in a cobalt velvet surcoat and gold-embroidered waistcoat. “I had been planning . . .” He coughed, a bit awkwardly.
“You were planning to go to the ball,” she finished.
“Yes, but with you! Or at least, that had been my hope. . . .” He bowed low once more. “Would you do me the privilege of allowing me to escort you to—”
Delphine put out a paw, kindly but firmly. “I would love nothing more than for you to escort me, yes . . . but to the tapestries. Please.”
He hesitated only for a moment, and then his debonair persona returned. “Then let us return to the tapestries, as promised.”
The empty hallways of the Forbidden Wing echoed with every step Delphine and Alexander took. Delphine’s head whirled, wondering just what it would mean if her needle truly was one of the mystical Threaded’s. Then ominous shadows loomed up in front of them, dispelling all of her musings.
Delphine’s heart stopped.
Rats.
Alexander pulled her into a dark recess in the wall. “Hush!” he whispered. They listened to the eerie clicking of claws on stones fading into the distance.
Breathing a sigh of relief, the two mice continued to the hidden entrance of the room where the tapestries hung. Alexander again pressed on the golden skein, and the panel opened just enough for them to squeeze through. Night had long since fallen, and the moon was hidden behind a thick wall of clouds. But Delphine had stopped caring about being in this part of the castle at night. She had a mystery to unravel.
