The Paper Boat

by Priebe, Trisha; Jenkins, Jerry B. ;

  “But he’s only three years old!” Avery cried. “He wouldn’t know what treason is!”

  The advisor nodded. “He will now. That will be all.”

  As the guards approached and grabbed her, Avery called out, “I’m loyal to you, Your Highness! That’s why I wrote you! Please don’t send me back.”

  But the king stood silent, head down.

  “Please don’t do this!” she called over her shoulder. “My brother and I are not criminals!”

  But the king and his men were once again bent over the map.

  Chapter 15

  The Longest Night

  Though her eyes were heavy, Avery fought sleep. How could she relax when her little brother and so many friends were in danger?

  She lay staring at the ceiling and at the window high on the cell wall. Through that tiny sliver came the clippity-clop of galloping horses and men shouting. Wood cart wheels chunked over the cobblestone streets. And the telltale clinking and rattling of chains Avery guessed would be used to bring back prisoners.

  Imagining the king’s massive force marshalling and charging off into the night made Avery curl into a ball. She prayed for Henry and her friends and whispered one of the last verses she had read in the tiny Bible with the onionskin pages: “What time I am afraid, I will trust in thee.”

  Finally, she drifted off and then—unsure how many hours had passed—awoke to more shouts and horses’ hoofbeats.

  Avery tried to convince herself that whomever the scout thought he saw with Edward’s rebels was not a little boy at all, let alone Henry. But she couldn’t shake the mental image that he had been swept up by some burly horseman and was even now pale with terror as he was carried back to the castle. He would have no idea what was happening.

  She buried her face in the crook of her arm and knew no torture could be worse than her regret over not somehow protecting Henry and the dread of what might become of him.

  Unaware she had dozed again, Avery was startled awake by the morning sun streaming through the little window.

  She sat up and rubbed her eyes. Her dirt and stone and steel room was silent as a tomb, and things were quiet outside, too—until a low rumble of thunder grew louder.

  But she soon realized the cacophony was not coming from outside the castle, but inside. Guards were approaching. Lots of them.

  My day of reckoning…

  Avery stood, dusted off her dress, and tried to tame her knotted hair. She held close to her chest the ruby flower of her mother’s necklace and prayed for more courage than she had ever known.

  When the guards marched in, Avery tucked the necklace back inside her collar and did not resist the two who led her down the stairs. Her ankle was not so swollen, but it was tight from lack of activity through the night.

  The guards forced her to keep walking for so long that Avery thought she would be unable to keep on. But finally they stopped at a door she did not recognize.

  We’re not even at a landing. This can’t be right.

  The guards grabbed her under the arms and lifted her into the room, and she realized where she was.

  The Great Hall had been transformed from where the queen had lain in state back to the Throne Room again—but the queen’s throne had already been removed. The guards deposited Avery before the raised dais, where the king sat on his ornate chair, leaning on his cane and whispering to an advisor while a scribe sat scribbling nearby and the rest of the court waited.

  Avery was certain this was her moment of doom. The king would find cause to condemn her to whatever fate had befallen the old woman. Avery would be conveniently out of the way when Edward’s rebels were sent to the gallows for treason.

  Flanking the king left and right, his spear-wielding cortege made escape out of the question. Even at her peak as a runner, she wouldn’t have had a chance here. Kate had advised her about the big race in the Olympiad, “Better not to run and live…” But surviving did not appear to be an option now.

  This was hardly how Avery had imagined her audience with the king. She had envisioned curtsying deeply and telling him, “Your son is alive!”

  But Kendrick was dead, and Edward’s rebels had walked into an ambush. And Avery had no idea whether she’d be allowed to speak at all.

  “We meet again!” the king called, his voice stronger and more powerful than it had been just hours before. “Know why you’re here?”

  Avery shook her head.

  “I wanted to thank you personally. Your information proved correct. Thirteen-year-olds! And now they all sit in the dungeon awaiting their fate.”

  Avery cleared her throat. “If I may ask—”

  “No children, at least certainly no three-year-old boy.”

  Avery nearly burst into tears. “Thank you, Your Grace.”

  “Anything else I can do for you?” the king asked.

  She frantically searched her mind for anything that might buy her time or mercy. She would do anything to keep from returning to her cell, because the tower prison seemed no better than the hangman’s rope.

  Wobbling on legs firm as pudding, she curtsied very low. Whatever the risk, Avery would take one last stab at freedom.

  “Well?” the king said, shooting a look of irritation at his scribe.

  She swallowed. “Well, sir, I promised an old woman—”

  The scribe shouted, “Do not waste his grieving Majesty’s time with stories of old—”

  But the king raised a jeweled hand. “Go on,” he said.

  Avery was suddenly lightheaded and awkwardly knelt on the cool marble floor. She folded her hands to keep them from shaking. “I swore that if I got the chance, I would apologize to you on her behalf.”

  “Whatever this is about and whoever she is,” the king said, “why is she not here herself?”

  “She’s dead, sir,” Avery said.

  The scribe barked a laugh, causing the king to glare at him. “Jeoffrey! Let the girl speak. This is the most interesting thing I’ve heard all day.” He turned back to Avery. “Tell me more, young lady. Who was the woman and what did she do that she needs my forgiveness? Be quick.”

  Avery could barely get the words out. “She’s sorry for disobeying you and allowing your twins to live.”

  The king bolted upright as the Hall erupted with murmuring.

  Avery swiftly added, “She also asked me to tell you that her mission is complete.”

  The king sank back on his throne. He looked stricken. “Mission?”

  “That’s all I know, but she was desperate I tell you.”

  Everyone fell silent as the king struggled to his feet, leaning heavily on his cane. Jeoffrey quickly rose to steady him, but the king waved him off and moved in front of Avery—towering over her despite his wasted frame, though only because she was on her knees.

  Avery’s pulse thrummed in her neck as she looked up into his wide, sunken green eyes. Was he angry? She couldn’t tell, but she knew that even emaciated as he was, she was so defenseless he could beat her to death with his cane if he chose to. Or have one of his retinue run her through.

  “Stand,” he said brusquely.

  When she rose, the king put a frail hand under her chin and turned her face back and forth. He squinted as he seemed to study her.

  “I should not have allowed them to return you to the Tower last night. Forgive me, I had no idea.”

  No idea about what?

  “I thought I had seen you before…”

  From after the race in the Olympiad? Will he demand to know why I ran away instead of accepting my prize?

  She started to speak, but the king cut her off. “What is that?”

  Avery’s hand flew to her mother’s necklace, and she gasped. She’d always been careful to conceal it, but it must have popped out when she was dragged from her cell.

  Chapter 16

  The Announcement

  “It was a gift from my mother, Your Grace,” Avery managed, her cheeks warm. “But you are certainly welcome to it.” Trem
bling, she unclasped the necklace and set it carefully in the king’s hand.

  Tucking his cane beneath his arm, he turned the ruby flower over and over, glancing at Avery.

  “How old are you?”

  She froze. The truth would mean a trip back to the Tower, or worse. But the star on her wrist would give her away if she lied.

  “Answer me,” he said.

  “Thirteen.”

  Murmuring broke out again, but the king seemed to take this in stride.

  “What is your name?”

  “Avery Godfrey.”

  One of the guards shifted, and Avery noticed him tighten his fist on his spear.

  The king opened the locket and looked at the tiny portraits of Queen Elizabeth and Kendrick. Would he recognize his son?

  A slow, kind smile slid over the king’s face, and—to Avery’s surprise and relief—he snapped shut the necklace and handed it back.

  “Kings never die,” he said quietly. “When they grow too big for this world, they transcend it. Do you know the meaning of transcend?”

  Avery nodded.

  “Of course you do. You must like to read.”

  She did. In fact, she had recently read in Proverbs, “The king’s heart is in the hand of the Lord.” But now was not the time to mention it. If the king wanted to believe he could never die…

  The king snapped his fingers, and several of his advisors—bowing and bumbling—appeared on either side of Avery.

  “She is to have the third finest of the royal apartments,” he said. “Have the dressmakers prepare a wardrobe at once. Assign ladies to help her. Alert the kitchen staff to prepare a banquet for tomorrow night, to which the entire court is invited.” And in his most triumphant tone, he bellowed, “And bring out the jewels! Go now!”

  Avery narrowed her eyes. What in the world?

  As his advisors hurried away, one lingered. “Your Grace, may I inquire as to the occasion?”

  The king smiled broadly and called out, loudly enough for the whole court to hear, “He asks the occasion! The occasion? I have an heir!”

  Chapter 17

  The Frenzy

  Scribes clambered for parchment as advisors tripped over each other then huddled, speaking in hushed tones.

  Avery tried to read the king’s smile. Was he genuinely happy? Clearly he was serious and determined to celebrate his heir, but how was this possible—and what did she have to do with it?

  Kendrick was his heir! Should I tell him Kendrick is dead? How might he respond?

  Oh no…

  Does he think I’m the baby whose portrait is in the locket of my mother’s necklace?

  Avery had certainly not intended to imply that, and deceiving the king—even accidentally—brought a severe penalty. The last thing she wanted was to see him embarrassed by his own mistake.

  She raised a hand. “Your Excellency,” she began, but a blast of trumpets stunned her into silence. The late Angelina’s ladies-in-waiting appeared and ushered her out of the Great Hall and into the Hall of Mirrors, which she and Kate had discovered in their early days in the castle.

  One of the ladies guided her onto a pedestal, saying, “Your Grace, if you are to be the king’s daughter, you must look like his daughter,” turning her to face a full-length mirror.

  Avery suppressed a gasp.

  Living in hiding, being thrown into prison, and subsisting on scraps had taken a toll. She looked worse than the day the old woman had dragged her from the woods.

  Avery wanted to clarify that she was not the king’s daughter, but the servant clapped, and the Hall of Mirrors came alive.

  One woman brushed Avery’s hair while another cleaned her face. A third took measurements, and a fourth peppered her with questions—favorite color? favorite gem? favorite fabric?…

  Avery wanted to scream, “Stop!” but felt powerless in the chaos.

  Dressmakers brought armload after armload of choices from the royal wardrobe and instructed Avery to nod or shake her head as each was presented.

  Her face burned, her eyes watered, and her heart danced.

  The ladies washed her feet, measured her, and poked and prodded. They gave her clothes and ushered her into a tiny dressing stall. She changed into a glittering red gown and stepped into new velvet slippers.

  Though this was all a horrible mistake, she wished it would never end.

  Back on the pedestal, a fresh group of nervous women scurried about Avery, tucking fabric and stitching her gown, asking repeatedly if she was pleased with their work.

  Each time one referred to her as “Your Majesty,” Avery wished she could swat the words away. She dreaded what awaited her when the king learned she was only the daughter of a shopkeeper.

  She was gazing at her reflection when a new seamstress joined the group and caught Avery’s eye in the glass.

  Kate! She knows who I am and who I’m not.

  They held each other’s gaze before Kate curtsied. “Your Grace, may I speak?”

  Avery nodded, grateful Kate seemed willing to pretend for the moment to protect her.

  “Your mother was the finest queen this realm has ever had. And I think you look like her.” Kate’s kind smile shone even in her eyes.

  Avery thanked her, but what was this? The old woman in the prison said she had instructed Kate to “finish the job I was s’posed to do so many years ago.”

  “One more thing, Your Grace,” Kate said. “The king is sending jewels for your consideration. May I accompany you to your quarters when we’re through here?”

  Avery nodded, and none of the others appeared to suspect that she and Kate knew each other.

  What should she say once they were alone? Obviously, though she was certain Kate knew this, she had to clarify she was not the daughter of the king.

  And she needed Kate to help her fix the mess.

  Fast.

  Chapter 18

  Diamonds

  The ladies-in-waiting led Avery from the Hall of Mirrors and past the rooms Avery knew from all her searches of the castle.

  Finally, they arrived at a door in a wing she had never seen, and one of the ladies curtsied and told her the door led to her room. All but Kate left, and Avery stepped inside, stunned to silence. The beautifully carved bed draped in ruby linen sat on thick floral carpets under a gold-domed ceiling. A heavy chandelier bore dozens of fat, bright candles. Leaded glass windows opened to sunshine, fresh air, and a beautiful view.

  The room was warmed by a roaring fireplace.

  “I won’t be here long, Kate.”

  “You will. This is your room now. The king will send for you at supper.” Kate poured from a pitcher into a large silver cup and handed it to Avery.

  Don’t trust anyone.

  “Thank you,” Avery said, immediately setting it down without drinking. Confusion flickered in Kate’s eyes.

  “I’m sorry,” Avery whispered, unaware who might be listening, “but what is happening? Why does the king believe I’m his daughter when Kendrick is his heir?”

  The words were out of her mouth before she realized she had revealed Kendrick’s secret.

  Strangely, though, Kate did not look surprised. “Ever notice the chapel ceiling?”

  “Of course.”

  “Ever wonder why Queen Elizabeth doesn’t hold just one baby?”

  Avery shrugged. “Because she had two?”

  Kate nodded and chuckled. “That’s right.”

  Avery sighed. “So the king thinks I’m Kendrick’s sister? How do I break it to him that I’m not?”

  “You don’t.”

  Avery held Kate’s gaze. “Come now, you don’t think I’m—”

  Kate shook her head. “I not only think you’re Kendrick’s sister—I know you are.”

  “Kendrick is my—?”

  “Not just your brother. Your twin.”

  So the baby portrayed in the locket of the ruby flower necklace was her!

  “You need to know,” Kate said. “I am not your ene
my. Never have been.”

  Avery couldn’t let Kate know what the old woman had told her.

  “Let me help you, Avery. No one can survive this castle alone, especially someone in your position. I have seen and heard much inside these walls. I can guide you.”

  “How?”

  “As one of your ladies-in-waiting.”

  Avery couldn’t imagine—but she was spared the need to reply by a brisk knock. The door opened, and the same men who’d carried Angelina’s belongings into the storage room now filed in bearing tiny wooden chests. One by one they set these on Avery’s bed until the whole thing was covered. Without a word, the men left.

  “Go on,” Kate said. “Look.”

  Avery lifted one lid to the glitter of diamonds and pearls. In another box she found rings and necklaces. Quickly she opened the rest, gaping at rings, necklaces, belts, and pins. She couldn’t wear this much jewelry in a lifetime.

  “Where did all this come from?”

  “From the queens throughout the castle’s history.”

  “But I am no queen.”

  “You will be if the king has his way. He’s already declared you his heir. Now you need to announce your counselors and chief advisors, those you trust to always have your best interests at heart—your eyes and ears at court, alert to threats and obedient to your bidding.”

  All Avery could think of were Kate’s words from long ago: “A queen is not to be envied. Her responsibilities are only outnumbered by her enemies.”

  If only Avery could believe Kate was truly a friend. Until she knew for sure, she would heed ancient wisdom: Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. “You’re welcome to be one of my ladies-in-waiting, for however long this lasts.”

  Kate smiled. “Good. I brought you something.” She produced a tiny book bound in leather.

  My Bible! Kate got something right, at least.

  Yet when Kate left so that Avery could rest before she was summoned by the king, Avery emptied the silver cup back into the pitcher.

  She would take no chances.

  Chapter 19

  A Plea