“Such as?”
“Such as a lot of things. Little John didn’t knock on the manor door. The witch found him sleeping in a ditch next to the road. And, of course, his name wasn’t really Little John.”
A breathy laugh escaped her lips, but she controlled it the next instant. “Did his father really beat him like a dirty rug?” she asked, suddenly intent.
Duncan did not immediately respond. They had come to the double doors, and he peered out the blurred glass there to the greenery of the garden beyond. “It doesn’t really matter,” he said quietly. “It was a long time ago.” Although only couple of years had passed since he had left his father’s farm, it felt like a lifetime. Or rather, it felt like someone else entirely had lived that dreary existence.
Alberta shoved the door open and walked out into the garden. Clearly she expected him to come as well, so he quickly followed. “What else did you change?” she asked. “I mean, the talking horse is obviously an embellishment, and I have my suspicions about the mountains of combs and bridles.”
“Oh,” said Duncan in an affectedly stupid manner, “all of those things really did happen.”
She glared up at him. He shoved his hands into his pockets and stared at a row of trees, waiting for her next comment. It took him by surprise all the same.
“Why did you open the little door?” she asked, and for once there was more curiosity than severity in her voice.
“What do you mean?” asked Duncan in return. “I just wondered what was behind it, that was all.”
“Don’t try to fool an experienced liar,” said Alberta then. “I’m a fairly good judge of character, and you’re not the type who normally goes poking his nose where it’s not supposed to be. You’ve demonstrated that often enough since you’ve been here, whether you realize it or not. What made you do it?”
He felt sheepish admitting the truth. “She took away all my chores, made it so I had nothing to do. I was all alone in that great big house, and I could hear a voice behind the door pleading for help. It was a trick, of course, but once I’d opened it, there was no reason not to investigate further. Why do you ask?”
She stayed silent long enough that he thought that she intended to ignore the question entirely. “You’re honest by nature, you know that?” she said at long last. “It doesn’t take very much prodding to get you to tell the truth about something.”
“I’m sorry,” said Duncan instinctively.
“What a strange thing to apologize for,” she remarked to the wind. “I’m going to ask you another question now, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t make me prod you for an answer.” She pinned him with a piercing stare. Only after he nodded his assent did she speak again. “In all your travels, all the places you’ve been since you’ve left your father’s farm, did you ever hear word of a man by the name of Julian?”
Duncan had not anticipated this question, but he answered immediately. “No, not until I arrived here.”
A disappointed noise wrenched out of Alberta’s throat, and she plunged further into the garden. Duncan followed in confusion. A small seed of hope welled up in his heart, that he might actually have a chance to get some answers from the typically abrasive princess. “This is the prince of Delamore you’re talking about, right?” he asked. “The same one who broke your sister’s heart? Why would you be looking for him?”
He thought she might want to punish the poor fellow. It would certainly be in keeping with her actions toward Margaret’s other suitors. But then, he recalled, she had already said she wanted to fix what was broken between Margaret and Julian. He wasn’t entirely sure what that meant.
“Julian didn’t break Mae’s heart directly,” said Alberta, to his surprise. “He vanished into oblivion, and her heart broke as a result. All of our hearts broke. Julian was practically a member of our family.”
Duncan frowned at the strange expression that chased across her face. “Were you in love with him?” he blurted. Horror at speaking aloud such a brazen question flooded through him then. “I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean—!”
“No,” Alberta answered him quite plainly. Her brows furrowed together as she considered how best to clarify her response. “I wasn’t in love with him. If anything, I was in love with the way he was in love with my sister, with the way they were in love with each other. Their whole world seemed to revolve around one another—not in the shallow, tasteless sort of way that so many of the court nobles affect toward one another, but real, genuine adoration. You could see it in the way he looked at her, in the way he spoke to her and of her. After hearing nothing but tales of mismatched marriages my whole life, it was nothing short of a miracle to discover that two people could be so completely perfect for one another.”
“That would be a miracle,” said Duncan honestly. He recalled his own mother and father and the terrible mismatch they had been. If the relationship between Princess Margaret and Prince Julian was only half of what Alberta claimed, it was still a miracle.
She continued. “Prince Perceval was probably right: he’s probably dead. But until we know for sure, Mae can’t possibly move on. She’s still as in love with him now as she was back then. Five years hasn’t changed her heart in the least.”
Duncan didn’t know what to say to this. “He really just… vanished?”
“He went on a trip, told Mae that if he was going to be a proper husband to the queen of Meridiana that he needed to know more about the world. We all begged him not to go—with our family’s legacy, something bad was sure to happen to him—but he insisted that he would be safe. He was to travel under an assumed name, with only his servant Winford as his companion. I never liked that man. He had shifty eyes.”
“Did the servant vanish as well?” Duncan asked. A chill ran up his spine as several items connected themselves in his brain.
“Yes, of course,” said Alberta. “They crossed the north border into Borealia together and were never heard from again.”
“And it’s been five years since then?”
“I already told you that,” she said peevishly. She saw the expression on his face, though, and her own cleared. “What is it? What do you know?”
“I don’t know anything,” said Duncan quite firmly. “That is, I do know that Dame Groach’s manor is not so very far beyond the border into Borealia, and you said she lived to exact revenge on your family. Plus, I’m pretty sure she’d be willing to pay servants to betray their masters.” He couldn’t recall whether he’d told Alberta that Dame Groach was likely the old woman who had bargained with Lord Briarly to take the royal witch of Meridiana off his hands, but he thought it would be better not to bring up that incident at the moment.
“You think he fell into her clutches?” Alberta asked.
“I never met anyone called Julian while I was at her estate,” Duncan told her. “I was there for two months, and the only other souls besides me and her were the two horses and a pair of canaries. She didn’t have names for any of them but Goliath, either—that was her horse, the black one. Still, it wouldn’t be beyond the realm of possibility that Prince Julian did encounter her.”
“Then he really is dead,” said Alberta dully.
Duncan couldn’t let it stand at that. “Not—not necessarily. That is, if she had deemed him useful, she might have kept him alive. I’m sure she has any number of hiding places.”
To his surprise, she did not seem at all heartened by this. “Please don’t,” she said miserably. “Don’t try to nurture my hope. I battle with it enough already. The truth is that if he were still alive, he would’ve done everything in his power to get a message to us, somehow. It’s far more likely that he’s dead, but we’ll probably never know for sure. All I really can do is pay homage to his memory by making certain Mae doesn’t throw herself into a loveless marriage for the sake of duty. He would’ve wanted her to be happy, at the very least. It’s foolish to hope for more than that.”
It probably was foolish, but he didn’t say so. He didn�
�t say anything, in fact. Alberta seemed to expect no response, too, for she left him standing there in the garden. He watched her return to the castle, her back straight and proud, and he thought he understood her just a little better, at last.
Not until she had passed back through the double doors and out of sight did he turn his own steps. Gardener would no doubt wish for him to resume his abandoned chores, but Duncan headed instead for the stables, determined to confirm one thing at least.
Wildfire looked up from his feed bin in surprise. “Hello,” he said around a mouthful of oats.
“I’ve been storytelling at the castle,” Duncan replied lightly, “and I’ve had one told to me in return. Did you know that this Prince Julian of Delamore disappeared five years ago along with his servant?”
For the barest instant, the white horse froze. Then, he suddenly dipped his nose back into the feed bin as though unconcerned.
Duncan wasn’t going to let the subject drop just like that. “They crossed over the north border into Borealia and simply vanished. They were probably quite near Dame Groach’s estate at some point.”
“Leave it alone, Duncan,” said the horse in a low voice.
“How could you not tell me?” Duncan retorted. “I thought because of your friendship with Otis that you might be a knight or something, but a prince?”
“Leave it alone!” Wildfire cried fiercely. “I didn’t tell you because there was no point! There’s no point in telling anyone! I am a horse!”
Duncan stared. “No point?” he echoed. “Princess Margaret’s still in love with you to this day. Princess Alberta’s made herself into a villain for your sake. There’s no point in telling them that you’re still alive?”
Wildfire bucked his head and retreated to the very back of his stall. “Do you know why I’m a horse?” he asked quietly, and Duncan leaned over the door to hear his next words properly. Wildfire glared at him over his withers. “Because Mae hates them,” he said plainly. “She’s terrified of them, won’t go near a horse without coercion.”
“But if she knew it was you—”
“She’d be revolted,” Wildfire interrupted. “Revolted and humiliated. If I can’t appear before her as a human, it’s better that I never appear before her again. She’ll be fine,” he added loudly as Duncan began to protest. “She’s stronger than she looks. She’ll overcome her sorrows to become a very proficient queen. She’ll marry someone who can support her in that position. She’ll have children and grandchildren and die having lived a contented life. She doesn’t need me for any of that.”
Duncan thought this speech was beyond ridiculous. “Dame Groach should’ve turned you into an ass instead of a horse,” he said impulsively, “but I suppose since you already are one, it doesn’t matter.”
“Hey!” Wildfire snapped, but Duncan had already turned away.
“I have work to do,” he said over his shoulder. “I’ll see you later, Wildfire.”
The white horse made no further attempt to waylay him. Duncan did not look back to see what sort of expression he wore, either. He couldn’t quite explain why he was so very angry. He felt like a fool, always bewildered by the puzzles around him because he’d been kept in the dark concerning one essential piece. He thought he’d like to have words with Otis for keeping him in the dark, too, but he couldn’t blame the blacksmith for not betraying Wildfire’s secret. He was going to have to keep it a secret as well. His loyalty toward Wildfire—or Prince Julian, as he now knew—dictated as much.
That didn’t render him powerless to do anything, though.
Before he really took time to consider his actions, his feet carried him back to the castle, to the servants’ passage that led upward to the residential wing. He hesitated only momentarily before he knocked sharply on Princess Alberta’s door.
She might not be within, he knew. She had started to move freely beyond her rooms since Lord Briarly’s confinement and could be anywhere within the castle or beyond it. He even half-hoped that she wouldn’t answer: only a moment’s wait had given him enough pause to question his rash decision. Just as his nerve was failing him, though, just as he thought he really ought to bolt back the way he had come, the door cracked open and Princess Alberta peered out at him. The instinctive scowl on her face lightened, but she forced its return.
“I didn’t send for you,” she said.
“No, you didn’t,” Duncan agreed, and inwardly he questioned this decision yet again.
She eyed him suspiciously. “What do you want, then?”
He cobbled together his thoughts as best he could. “I’m not very useful. I’m just a simple-minded peasant, and more cowardly than I’d like to admit. I know I’ve dug in my heels at helping you before, and that I probably haven’t been reliable, but I’ll do my best from now on. If you need powders or toxins administered, if you want strange ingredients fetched, if you send me off to my doom against a thousand bloodthirsty hooligans, I’ll do it. But in return, please, tell me everything you know about how to break a magic curse.”
She had stepped back, confused by this sudden oath of loyalty. “Why?” she asked.
“Because there’s a curse I’ve sworn to break, and the only solution I’ve been given so far is unacceptable.”
“What sort of curse?”
“I can’t tell you. I’m sorry,” he added when her brows drew together in suspicion. “My loyalties lie with the one who suffers under it, and I will not betray him against his wishes.”
“Why swear to help me when you have such a master already?” she asked critically.
“For Julian,” said Duncan.
Alberta stiffened, and her scowl grew deeper. “You told me you didn’t know him.”
“But you’re willing to destroy your reputation for him,” Duncan replied. “You’ll sacrifice to whatever lengths you need to in order to protect his memory.”
“That doesn’t mean I’ll do the same for you,” she said coldly.
“That’s why I offered a trade,” he retorted. “I don’t expect you to sacrifice anything for me—it’s the other way around! I can sacrifice, but I’m not wise enough to figure these kinds of things out for myself! I need help from someone smarter, someone more determined than I am!”
She opened her mouth and then shut it again without a word. He could see confusion reflected in her eyes and knew there was a very good chance that she would refuse to help him simply because she didn’t trust him. With bated breath he waited for her answer.
At long last, she threw the door open wide. “Come in,” she commanded, and she whirled on one foot to retrace her steps back into the room. “You say you’ll do whatever I ask of you? Let’s give that a little test, shall we?”
Part III: The Acts of Fools and Fairies
Chapter 21
Princess Alberta of Meridiana had her fingers in more pies than Duncan had ever imagined. The depth of her involvement in castle affairs unfolded before him that afternoon, mindboggling in its complexity.
His first errand had been a heavy, fragrant block wrapped in coarse brown paper.
“It’s soap,” Alberta told him plainly. “Take it to Mrs. Cutler. She should give you a letter in return.”
Mrs. Cutler was the head housekeeper within the castle. Duncan had had very little to do with her, but he knew her by sight, as did all the servants. He delivered the package as requested.
“Finally,” said the woman with visible relief, and she pulled a folded page from her apron pocket. “I thought this would never come!”
She provided no other explanation to Duncan, and he returned in confusion to Alberta’s room.
She looked up from the book she was consulting. “Well?” He wordlessly produced the letter and gave it into her care. “You look like you have a question, Scurvyhead,” said Alberta.
“It’s none of my concern,” he replied.
“What does Mrs. Cutler want with all that soap, perhaps?”
“She’s a housekeeper,” said Duncan logica
lly. “Of course she needs soap.”
“That was expensive herbal soap, though,” Alberta told him knowingly. “It’s for washing the face and hands, not for cleaning floors. She sells it to half the maids on the staff,” she added, which only confused Duncan all the more. Why would Alberta give the housekeeper soap to sell to her underlings, and why would she give only a letter in return?
Alberta had already unfolded that communication to look over its contents. “It’s information—gossip and rumors currently cycling through the servants’ quarters,” she informed him. “There’s a small box on my table over there. I need you to take it to Bella’s room. Give it to her maid. You won’t get anything in return, so come back immediately.”
Duncan located this second delivery. Tempted as he was to open the box the moment he was out of Alberta’s sight, he resisted. Bellinda’s room was only the next door down the hall. A demure little chambermaid opened almost immediately after his knock. She received the box with a self-conscious glance at Duncan and shyly murmured her thanks. Then, she shut the door.
“Did you look inside the box?” Alberta asked when he returned. She had her nose buried in another book.
“No,” he said, grateful that he had not given into that temptation.
She supplied him with another errand, and then another, and then another after that, as though she had an unending list before her. Duncan spent his entire afternoon delivering wrapped objects across the castle grounds—to a couple of boys in the stables, to a guard at the side gate into town, to one of the assistant cooks in the kitchen, and to half a dozen other people. He received various items from them in return. Some gave letters, as the housekeeper Mrs. Cutler had. Others handed him items to take to Alberta. He received a clutch of candles, some packets of dried herbs, a bundle of straw, and a sack full of fireplace ashes. These latter two items she warned him in advance not to bring up to her room. Instead he delivered them to a small broom closet near the servants’ dormitories and locked it tight with a key Alberta supplied to him.
Goldmayne: A Fairy Tale Page 25
