Winterdream

by Chantal Gadoury

  She bowed, keeping her chin upward, watching him.

  “Your highness,” she purred as she looped her arm through his. “Your guards are here at the ready.”

  “And not out patrolling?” he asked, his voice echoing all around us.

  “They’ve only just come back from their posts. They’ve had no sightings of the Mouse King.”

  He turned to gaze at them, his back to me. All of the men stood frozen, their hands behind their backs.

  “Nothing?”

  “Nothing,” the tallest guard barked, tilting his chin toward the air.

  “Thank you,” the Nutcracker responded softly, then gave the men a courteous nod. “All of you are courageous, and we owe you our thanks.”

  “And once the others in the lands join us, we’ll have double than what we expected,” Lady Irina continued. “The battle between men and mice should be swift and short. Fatal to our enemy, if we’re lucky.”

  The Nutcracker only responded with a nod. Lady Irina waved her hand at the crowd, dismissing them. The men bowed and turned to leave.

  “Of course, though,” she began, “nothing else will be discussed until Lady Clara joins us.”

  Her tone was taunting. She smiled at the Nutcracker, as though she were inviting his irritation. But he instead showed none. It was perhaps the best response he could give her. He did not take the bait, and her annoyance by that was clear.

  “Shall we wait for Lady Clara here?” he asked, gesturing toward the door behind them. Lady Irina nodded her head.

  “By all means.”

  He began to walk toward the doorway, which led into what I knew was the council room. The same room we had all disappeared into after. . .

  I couldn’t make out the rest of the conversation as they disappeared.

  As I turned to find the staircase down to the main foyer, I noticed Marzipan standing by my door with a set of two unfamiliar persons. Her face was pale, and she looked rather forlorn. Perhaps things were no better for the other servants and courtiers of the castle. It seemed the entire situation had caused quite a sense of unease.

  “Marzipan?” I asked aloud as I closed the distance between the two of us. Looking up from the door, her hardened expression turned into surprise.

  “Clara! What are you doing out of bed already?”

  “I woke early,” I explained, and gestured back toward the balcony overlooking the rest of the castle. “I wanted to know what was happening.”

  “The most awful thing has happened,” she said, turning her gaze back down to the floor. “The man. . . the h-head. . .” Her words barely slipped from her mouth as she began to tremble, a tear splashing onto the tiles. The two other persons standing behind her—one woman and one man—held her arms gently.

  “The poor lass,” the woman murmured, shaking her head. “’Twas her sibling.”

  I stared at the three of them wide-eyed. Macaron. She had told me of her brother when we first met.

  “The—you mean, the man…?” I turned my attention to Marzipan, who lifted her hands to her eyes. Her shoulders shook almost violently.

  “It’s true!” she nearly shouted between her fingers. “What was done so horridly… was done to my brother, Macaron.”

  I gathered her up into my arms quickly. I did the only thing I could think to do. Wrapping my arms around her tightly, I cradled her as she began to cry in earnest. I could not imagine what I would have done if it had been Fritz.

  “Marz,” the man said softly, and lifted his hand to her back. I glanced at the two figures from over her shoulder.

  “Who are you?” I asked, darting my gaze between the two of them.

  The man, dressed in a starch white uniform with golden threads embroidered down along the line of his buttons responded, “I am Rumtopf.”

  His hair was the color of a bright, ripened cherry, and his eyes were a shade of hazel and orange. The woman beside him was dressed in a gown reminding me of flower petals. Her hair was a soft grayish lavender, while her eyes were a piercing, bright green.

  “I am Hyacinth,” she said, nodding her head.

  Marzipan had mentioned the two of them to me during our first meeting. Rumtopf was the cook, and Hyacinth was in charge of the gardens. They were subjects of the prince; of Winter Dream.

  “Perhaps we should take her up to her room so she can rest,” I explained. The two of them shook their heads.

  “Lady Irina has forbidden it,” Hyacinth explained. I lifted my brow in surprise.

  “What?”

  “We’re all to be at our stations today. We’re all to be accounted for,” Rumtopf said, glaring in the direction of the balcony. It seemed he, too, did not agree with Lady Irina’s choices.

  “Does the prince know of this?” I asked, sliding my gaze between the three of them. Rumtopf rolled his eyes.

  “Haven’t you learned already, Lady Clara? The fairy has her ways of keeping things from the Prince.”

  The Nutcracker had told me not to call Lady Irina a fairy. And by the way Rumtopf had used the word, it was truly meant as an insult.

  “Her ways?” I asked, shaking my head.

  “She tells the prince lies. She claimed the palace had been safe while he was away, but it was false.”

  “The mice were here?”

  “For several weeks. The mice lurked in the gardens. They attacked anyone who ventured too far from the palace. And she would slip out during the darkest hours of the night to them. I watched her one night from the kitchen window. Her eyes sparkled red like rubies.”

  I had seen the same thing. I had seen her blood-red eyes just last night, and then a few days before.

  “She’s not who she says she is,” Hyacinth explained. “She is not the real Lady Irina.”

  Chapter 24

  Marzipan began to sob softly again, pressing her hands against her eyes. The three of us looked to her with regret. I held her tightly against me as I tilted my chin toward my bedroom door.

  “Come,” I whispered softly to her.

  “Several of Lady Irina’s guards had her answering their questions into the small hours of the morning,” Rumtopf interjected as I led her into my room.

  “Lady Irina has guards?” I asked. Rumtopf nodded slowly.

  “Not everyone is so willing to serve the prince.”

  “But he’s the rightful ruler,” I said, shaking my head.

  “And others believe that after the king disappeared, the role should have gone to one of the families of the lands. Sugarland Forest has always been a place of safety for the subjects of Winter Dream. It would seem Lady Irina thinks she should be the rightful queen.”

  It all made sense. All of it. The way she carried herself. The way she spoke to the Nutcracker. Her invitation to take the first dance of the evening. She wanted the right to rule, to have Nutcracker step down, whether by force or not. It was safe to assume that she would do anything to have the throne.

  “Why?” I demanded, darting my gaze to him. “Why did they interrogate her?”

  “They w-wanted to k-know…” Marzipan began as she sniffled, but couldn’t continue. Her sobs were felt too deeply.

  “They wanted to know when she had last seen her brother. They wanted to know everything about him. His schedule. His connections around the palace.”

  “Shouldn’t they have that? He was a guard!” I asked as I helped Marzipan to the bed. Rumtopf shrugged.

  “I think they wanted to claim that he was working for the Mouse King. That he was a spy…”

  “They would not tear the head off one of their own spies,” I replied.

  “Wouldn’t they?” he asked. “The Mouse King is a murderer, Lady Clara. He always has been.”

  “Then why would anyone be their spy, hmm?” I inquired, wrinkling my nose.

  I turned my attention to Marzipan and her tear-stained cheeks.

  “I certainly would not ask you to wait on me today, Marzipan,” I said, shaking my head. If Lady Irina was so determined to have Mar
zipan work in her grieving state, I would help her in return. She could hide in my room for the time being.

  “I want you to rest,” I began as I eased her back upon my bed. Realizing the sheets were not in their best state, I quickly pulled the coverlet over the length of the bed.

  “But I can’t,” Marzipan sobbed softly as she tried to sit up. “I close my eyes and I see his face. I see the horror… the fear.”

  Rumtopf came to sit down beside her, his arm wrapping around her tightly. By the way his hazel eyes watched her, I knew there was something between the two of them.

  “Perhaps Hyacinth,” I began as I turned my gaze back to the other maid who stood by the door. “You could escort me to the gardens. I think I should like to make an arrangement for Marzipan’s brother.”

  Her lips lifted only in a half smile and nodded. I brushed a hand over Marzipan’s hair and smiled sadly at Rumtopf.

  “Please stay with her.”

  He gave a silent nod before turning his attention back to Marzipan and her sobs. I turned on my heel and left the room; a burning rage filled my stomach at the thought of all I had learned.

  As Hyacinth closed the door, she murmured, “What you did there, Lady Clara—it was quite kind of you.”

  “I only did what I thought was right.”

  Hyacinth nodded. “Indeed. ‘Tis what we need more of around here.”

  We took the nearby stairs, two at a time, doing what we could to stay out of sight. I could hear the gentle hum of the Nutcracker and Lady Irina’s voices in the distance. I wondered if she was still holding onto his arm, still smiling as if she were hoping he would smile at her the same way. I felt a cold shiver of jealousy and anger tremble through my body. I suddenly didn’t care how long I kept them waiting.

  It was becoming more and more clear that she only wanted Winter Dream for herself.

  “Is his highness waiting for you?” Hyacinth asked as she guided me back out into the familiar gardens I had explored with the Nutcracker. Pointing in the direction of where several flowers were blooming, she looked at me with expectant eyes.

  “He’s with Lady Irina,” I responded, and walked to the flowers.

  As my fingers grazed along the soft petals, my mind began to drift back to the secret garden. To the statue of the man—of the long ago king. Hyacinth stood beside me and began to gather an armful of the most lovely flowers; their colors blooming so bright and beautifully.

  “Where do they have him?” I asked carefully, doing my best to keep my gaze away from her own.

  “Lady Irina told the servants to place it in the back of the castle. Out near the lake.”

  At least it was beautiful there. At least there would be a pleasant place for Marzipan to visit when she wished to be with her brother once more. Hyacinth adjusted the flowers in her arms, neatly plucking extra leaves from the stems.

  “You must know how important your presence is for us, Lady Clara,” Hyacinth said softly. “You and his highness.”

  “Important?” I questioned. I waited, wondering if she too would mention the understanding of a curse that only a human girl could break. She nodded again.

  “Yes, important. For you and the prince will deliver us from the misery we have endured since the loss of our great king.”

  As I peered at her, I asked softly, “Hyacinth, is the statue in the garden truly of your long-ago king?”

  She smiled as she nodded slowly. “Yes, that was placed in memory of him when he disappeared.” Hyacinth offered me some of the flowers in her arms as I began to gather them into a bouquet.

  “Before the prince, as I’m sure you know, we once had a great and powerful king. He was beloved by all of us.”

  “Yes, the Nutcracker told me,” I murmured with a nod. Hyacinth continued.

  “One day, the king disappeared. He woke as he did each day. Had his morning meal and went off into the gardens for his morning walk. Usually, when he returned, Rumptof would have a hot tea for him, and the king would go on with his duties. But he never returned from his walk. Lady Irina had just arrived, too, if I remember quite right. She had come to the palace for a visit. I believe her parents wanted her to be useful to the court.”

  The word useful struck a chord with me. I peered at her, wrinkling my nose.

  “How so?”

  “While the king was old, he was wise and powerful. I believe Lady Irina came with the hopes of making an arrangement between herself and the king.”

  Lady Irina and the king?

  “But he disappeared before any final arrangements could be made.”

  “How could a king simply disappear?” I asked, shaking my head.

  “It seemed quite obvious to us all. Black magic,” she said, a small smile curling on her lips. “How else, indeed.”

  “And so Lady Irina tried to take his place?”

  “Not exactly,” she explained, fumbling with the tiny blossoms of primrose. “At first, it seemed as though she meant to stand in his place, but the king’s friend and apprentice had his own plans up his sleeve.”

  Uncle Drosselmeyer.

  “How can you be sure Irina didn’t do something to your king?” I asked after a moment of silence. Between the two of us, we had gathered quite a number of flowers to create a beautiful wreath with. Hyacinth nodded solemnly.

  “I suppose, at first, none of us had the heart to think such a thing. She had only just arrived to the palace of Winter Dream. And with her being the daughter of the lord and lady of Sugarland, such an accusation would be insulting.”

  I lifted my gaze to hers, watching as she chose her words carefully.

  “But over time, her behavior became more and more strange. The question was not far from our minds and mouths. And when Rumptof spied her slinking off into the night, I was almost sure she was working with the Mouse King.”

  “You mentioned that you think she’s not the real Lady Irina.”

  “I remember Lady Irina as a child. She had such a sweet disposition. And perhaps that’s because the magic of the world was so new and fresh. But when she arrived to the castle, I hardly recognized her. There was something about her that felt odd. . . different. Between you and me, Lady Clara, I believe she’s someone else, using the disguise of the late Lady.”

  “And yet, you’ve said nothing to no one?”

  “Who would believe me?” she asked, shaking her head. “It’s an outrageous thing to say aloud. And if I was wrong? Who knows what Lady Irina would do to me.” She paused as she lowered her gaze. “It’s clear no one is safe in Winter Dream anymore.”

  Her bravery encouraged me to speak my own truth; to tell her of what I had seen. Of what I had been too afraid to tell the Nutcracker myself.

  “The other night, when I was out in the garden with the Nutcracker, I saw her with red eyes,” I admitted softly. “The same eyes of the mice that had chased us in the sleigh.”

  Hyacinth slowly nodded, biting her bottom lip as she listened to me.

  “I believe you, Hyacinth,” I continued, touching her arm.

  She sighed and tried her best to smile.

  “It gives me hope, now that you’re here. That you and the prince can take back Winter Dream from the Mouse King and from her.”

  “Surely, all of you know that you don’t need us to take back your kingdom from her,” I replied, shaking my head. “You all have each other. You all have what it takes to fight against the Mouse King and her, right here.”

  Hyacinth smiled as she tilted her head back toward the palace doors.

  “Surely, it is easier to surmise such things from your position,” she replied. “We should return soon, before Rumtopf decides today is the day he will declare his love for Marzipan. And I’m sure the prince is eagerly awaiting your presence.”

  “I’m sure he has much to do today, regarding Macaron and the Mouse King.”

  She smiled gently. “Just so.”

  I smiled in turn. “So, Rumtopf does love her?” I asked, a smile growing on my face.
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br />   “The poor man,” Hyacinth laughed. “He’s been in love with her for decades. It’s a wonder she doesn’t know after all this time.”

  “She doesn’t?” I asked, laughing.

  “Lady Clara, the sky could be a shade of pink tomorrow and Marzipan would swear it was just the sun casting a shadow over the sky.”

  I wrinkled my nose at the comparison.

  “Marzipan will be happy for the flowers,” Hyacinth said with a smile. “I’d like to make a wreath before we go back inside.”

  I nodded in agreement. A wreath would be nice. Something to place on Macaron’s resting place. I was certain Marzipan would approve.

  Hyacinth tilted her chin toward a lone bench far in the garden. “We can make our wreath here for Macaron.”

  As we took a seat, Hyacinth began to twist the stems of the flowers together with her fingers. I watched as she created a full circle, filled with the colorful array of flowers we had gathered; tulips, primrose and honeysuckle. I hoped, as I passed Hyacinth a flower to weave into the wreath, that Marzipan would find some peace in their beauty. I knew it wouldn’t do anything for the ache she felt; the loss of her brother. But I did have hope. Hope for the good things that would come. As Hyacinth finished placing the last flower in the wreath, she glanced to me with a smile.

  “We should go back inside. I’m sure you’ve been missed.”

  I didn’t reply as she rose to her feet. Even if I had been missed, I felt it was my duty to do what was right for my newfound friends. Silently, we trailed back inside the palace, passing by the many paintings on the wall of the long hallway. I looked over by ‘The Traveler,’ once again taken by longing expression that had been painted onto the woman’s features. I could see myself in her. The longing for freedom. The longing for more. Perhaps the same longing all of Winter Dream shared.

  “I’ll go to your room for Marzipan and Rumptof,” Hyacinth said, pulling me from my thoughts as we approached the main staircase in the grand foyer. I hadn’t even realized we had walked the length of the hallway. It seemed I had been too preoccupied by my own thoughts.