The Piano Girl - Part Two (Counterfeit Princess Series)

by Sherri Schoenborn Murray

  “What do you think, Dory, about accompanying Wron today?” Walter lowered his chin, looking at me.

  Eyes wide, Wron’s shoulders dropped. “Look how pale she is—”

  “You will need to take the carriage,” Eunice said. “She is not ready for horseback.”

  “I would like that very much. Thank you, Prince Wron.” I carried the butter dish around the table to Knot.

  “Has everyone gone mad?” Wron asked, and huffed.

  ΦΦΦ

  Though Wron and I sat on the same side of the carriage, our shoulders touching, so distant was his expression that we might as well have been worlds apart. The carriage bounced over a pothole, and I could not help but wince when my wound contacted the side of the carriage.

  “You should not have come.” He moved to sit across the aisle from me, so I could move to the center of the seat.

  “To Yonder or with you today?” The jostling had opened my scab. Beneath my cloak, my bandage felt moist against my skin.

  “You know very well what I meant.”

  I gazed sadly out the window at the rolling countryside. Perhaps Wron did not love me. Perhaps he’d simply acted out of fear and guilt in Evland.

  “Will you please answer me?”

  The edge in his voice pierced my heart. “I didn’t hear the question, My Lord.”

  “Why is my father suddenly inclined to team us together?”

  Our eyes locked for a moment. “He knows that a day with you will be less strenuous than a day with your mother playing one-handed piano.”

  Turning toward the window, he suppressed a smile. “I will miss your humor, Dory.”

  I was so ready to tell my betrothed and beloved that I was his, but the needles of Eunice’s romantic imagination had begun their knitting, and our lives were her yarn.

  Several miles out of town, in the middle of rolling wheat fields, sat a small sod house. A large-boned woman stood in the doorway.

  “There is a land dispute. My men and I will walk the property. You may stay here or…” Wron regarded me.

  “I’ll visit the woman of the house.”

  He stepped out of the carriage first, and then, without meeting my gaze, held a hand up to me. On exiting, I held up the left side of my dress, but the right side was too long.

  “I’m snagged.”

  Wron’s sour mood turned, and he gently lifted the right side of my gown and assisted me out of the carriage. Afterward, he greeted the waiting farmers. Four of Yonder’s guards dismounted to join him, while I walked alone in the direction of the sod house.

  The woman standing in the doorway wore the back side of a man’s old shirt about her waist as an apron. She wore a headscarf from the same material. “No dea. No coffee.” Wide-eyed, she gripped her hands below her chest.

  “I know you did not expect company,” I said, “but I have an injury and I fear it’s reopened.” I motioned to my shoulder hidden beneath the cloak.

  The woman stepped back and held the door open. The one-room house was sparsely furnished. A crude table and two chairs stood off to one side, a pile of wood lay near the fire, and a baby cradle sat in the far corner. An infant lay sleeping there.

  “I am Vreida.” Vreida’s face was red and splotchy, like she washed her face often with harsh soap.

  “I am Dory.” I nodded.

  “Prince Wron’s Dory?” Her dark brows rose.

  “Yes.”

  “Dory, who defended Yonder?” She bent both knees to the dirt floor.

  “I am not worthy.” My heart felt stretched. “Stand up, Vreida.”

  Setting her hand to the table, she slowly stood.

  “On the way here, my wound opened. Do you have anything I may use as a bandage?”

  Vreida turned and opened her only cupboard. She took out a scrap of towel and led me to a basin of water on the table. “Id is freshly pumped,” she said. With large, warm hands, she helped me slide the cloak over my head. Blood had soaked through my bandages onto my cambric blouse.

  “Shod by a counderfeid. Shod for Yonder,” she said under her breath. With gentle hands, she removed the bandage.

  “No.” I shook my head. “Needa and I did what anyone would have done if they’d been in our shoes.”

  She shook her head. Like one who had seen much blood in her life and bandaged many a wound, Vreida took care of me.

  The door flung open, and Vreida’s husband and Wron entered. Vreida rinsed her towel and wrung it out before she carried the basin filled with red water past the men and out the door.

  Feeling Wron’s concerned gaze, I averted my attention to the wood-planked floor. He’d been right; I should not have come. The baby began to cry. The husband picked up the infant and walking about the room, tried to hush him.

  The woman returned with a fresh basin of water. After setting it on the table, she took the infant from her husband’s arms and wrapped him in a soft green knit blanket and nuzzled the child against her.

  The crying ceased.

  “Thank you, Vreida. You have been a kind and generous hostess,” I said.

  She shook her head. “I’m sorry we do nod have coffee.”

  ΦΦΦ

  Wron assisted me inside the carriage and pulled the door closed behind him. “Why did you not tell me that your wound reopened?” he asked.

  “Why did you not tell me that your countrymen live in squalor while you eat Giant Cakes off fine china?” My tongue held back no sharpness.

  “Answer me!”

  “They have no coffee or tea. Their towels are rags,” I said hotly, close to tears.

  “You do not understand.”

  “In Blue Sky, our motto is a middle-class society with no poverty.”

  “With the war, we acquired a vast amount of land, a vast amount of people. There are many needs and much to be done. A new road to Blue Sky will put many people to work. New towns will develop and thrive. Skilled mapmakers have put much thought into this plan, Dory. With my marriage, the future of Yonder is bright.” When he met my gaze, a sheen of tears filled his eyes.

  I closed my eyes and turned toward the window. What a wonderful man he was. “Their only possession with any color was the baby blanket that your mother knit them,” I whispered.

  Silence dwelled between us for a few miles while golden fields of knee-high wheat stretched as far as the eye could see.

  “What is next?” I asked.

  “I have nothing else planned today.”

  “What would you have done until dinnertime?”

  “I thought of going to The Bell Tower to listen to Long, and then to sit with my men and polish our guns.”

  “You did not want to be home because of me.” He avoided me now as often as he could.

  “In less than a week, I will be married.” His cheek muscle twitched as he looked out the window.

  How I longed to tell Wron that I was his, but his mother had painted a romantic picture in my mind. With careful planning, the picture might make the present pain worthwhile.

  “What will we do now?” I tried to caress his cheek with my voice.

  “We’re going home.”

  I sighed. “With your permission, may we buy coffee and new towels for Vreida and her family?”

  “Yes.” He suppressed a smile.

  Oh, how I loved him.

  ΦΦΦ

  After we set five pounds of coffee, sugar, and towels upon the counter, my eyes fell upon an apron. “How much may we spend?” I asked.

  “It’s not too much.” Wron eyed the apron that I fingered.

  I selected a checkered fabric for Vreida.

  “Her husband will feel left out.” Wron placed handkerchiefs on the counter and a new pocketknife.

  During our return to the farm, I held the bag of coffee beans in my lap. “If it is all right with Vreida, may we stay for coffee?”

  “Yes.”

  Vreida’s husband was out front splitting wood when our carriage returned. He paused to wipe his brow with the back
of his sleeve. Then he hurried to the house to inform his wife.

  Alone, I approached the door, while Wron waited inside the carriage. I held the bag of coffee under my good arm, and used my kneecap to softly pound on the door. Vreida opened it. Her husband stood in the background, holding the infant and patting his back.

  “Vreida, we brought you some coffee.” Fumbling, I moved the package to my hand and held the burlap bag out to her.

  She covered her mouth with one hand and waved with the other, motioning me inside.

  “I don’d know whad do say. Almer, Prince Wron’s Dory broughd coffee!”

  “If it’s not inconvenient, may we stay for coffee?”

  “You and Prince Wron?” Wide-eyed, Vreida nodded. She turned to find a dusty coffeepot on the lowest shelf.

  I returned to the carriage, where Wron stood outside, conversing with his men.

  “They are pleased to have us stay for coffee.” I beamed.

  ΦΦΦ

  That afternoon, the Queen requested knitting music. I found myself looking out the large picture window while I played. I recalled Wron’s conversation two nights before when he’d told me he acted out of fear and guilt, and then I recalled his sheen of tears in the carriage today when he’d told me about his country’s bright future. I felt responsible for his confusion and his pain, I tried to focus on the distant hills of Evland.

  “Your music is waning,” Eunice said. “Just play ‘Tomorrow, Today.’”

  It was such a sad song. It had always reminded me of Felix, reminded me of losing him and the horrors of my travels. I glanced over my shoulder at Knot, who sat with the men near the fire. If I had the use of both hands, I would play very dreary music that would bludgeon the depths of my soul.

  “Your playing is very choppy, Dory, even though it is one-handed,” Eunice said, over her lap-sized afghan. “Whatever is the matter?”

  “I play by memory. It’s hard to play one-handed to the depths of my memories.”

  “Before you know it, you’ll be well.” Eunice yanked at her ball of yarn, which rolled off her chair onto the slate floor. She sighed, “And I was so comfy.”

  I rose to assist her, and set the ball of yarn near her hip. “Are you knitting another blanket?”

  “Yes, I am two babies behind.” She sighed, looking up at me.

  “I treasured your blanket when I was in Evland. It felt like a love letter from you.”

  She smiled tenderly at me. “Some of our people are very poor. I knit blankets.”

  “Today when we visited the farmer’s regarding the land dispute . . .” I turned from the piano to regard her. “I visited with the farmer’s wife. The only fine thing that they had in their home was the light green blanket for their baby.”

  Above her knitting needles, she sighed. “I knit, Dory, but your brain is different. You will find solutions.”

  I had not always been that way. My father and Felix had been right in the adventures they’d mapped out for me. Without them, I would not have been a queen who knew her people.

  ΦΦΦ

  That evening, when Rhoda snored on the other side of the room, I pulled back my mattress, which jutted against the wall, and retrieved Felix’s saddlebag. After Father arrived, Princess Alia would finally meet Wron for the first time. I wanted to wear my beautiful light blue gown for the memorable occasion.

  I slid back the leather tongue of the bag and fingered the material of the gown I’d worn for my sixteenth party. I pulled the exquisite gown partway out of the bag, and I felt something that didn’t belong amidst the organdy. Paper.

  Surely it wasn’t a letter from Father. For our safety, Felix had burned all correspondence. Mouth dry, I unfolded a cream-colored piece of paper. I was not in the back of a wagon surrounded by chickens, or in the middle of a barren field, but I sensed that what I was about to read would be as defining.

  Dory,

  I’d stood over Felix’s shoulder many an evening when he’d penned his letters to my father. The slanted scrawl was indeed his.

  As you’ve probably determined by now, I will not be joining you in Yonder. At least not yet. When your father and I first mapped out this grand adventure, the swamp pox were not a part of the plan. You were to arrive alone in Yonder, a beautiful young woman who could easily prove who she was due to your birthmark, the horses, and simply who you are.

  Though my heart wanted to stop, I had to keep reading.

  My orders were explicit. I was to leave you at the Giants’ Snare. You would believe I was in battle, while you made your trek alone. The decision was your father’s. I had no say in it. No matter how well our journey had gone up until this point, your father wanted you to face Shepherd’s Field, the Forest Maze, and Yonder on your own to strengthen you and teach you valuable lessons for your future role.

  From the start, I was very torn over this decision, and even more so after you contracted the pox, as you have become like a daughter to me.

  Someone knocked at the door.

  Jolted out of my transfixed state, I shoved the saddlebag beneath the blankets. “Come in.” I sniffled, wiping my cheeks.

  “Sorry, Dory, this will just take a minute.” Wron entered and, bending to one knee near Rhoda’s bed, turned the giant to her side. As he rounded the side of my bed, he glanced my direction. Only the letter in my hand was visible.

  His shoulders relaxed, and his gaze narrowed. “Are you reading your father’s letters?”

  The motion of nodding brought a wave of tears. I bit my lower lip.

  “Is it one you haven’t read?” He leaned his head to one side, and his brows gathered.

  I nodded and, laying the letter against me, covered my mouth with my left hand. I was so close to totally unraveling.

  “Is there anything I can do?”

  Closing my eyes, I shook my head. “Thank you,” I managed.

  His footsteps retreated across the hallway, and I waited for the sound of his door closing before I sighed and returned to the letter.

  I want to assure you that I will survive the Giants’ Snare. I have taken this route multiple times before when they’ve been awake. The giant women are easily tamed, and many actually look forward to my visits.

  I’m sorry that you were led to believe otherwise, yet… I believe your father was correct. You would not have traveled alone of your own choosing.

  I am sorry to say that I will miss your wedding. I have gone back to collect Greda, my niece, and her daughter, Sadie.

  He was related to them. I smiled.

  I plan to retire in Evland, so I look forward to seeing you often.

  Until then,

  Felix

  I stared across the room at the stone wall. I remembered Felix and how he’d changed after my swamp pox. He’d been torn over my father’s decisions, and yet it was his duty to obey. I saw his love for me so clearly now.

  After folding the letter, I tucked it back inside the saddlebag and returned it to its hiding place. I blew out the candle and lay back on my pillow.

  I peered into the darkness. I knew what my journey had taught me. While my father—the king, the strategist—had often failed me, my heavenly Father had given me Felix to make up for him.

  I closed my eyes and remembered Wren and what she’d overheard from Father’s study. Nothing is to happen to her. Nothing. It was just like Father to be unpredictable like that—to change course, to fool his adversaries. He was brilliant. But I, his own daughter, had been his pawn.

  Chapter Sixteen

  I tossed the pillow on the floor so I could lay my head flat on the bed, still my mind raced. Felix was alive and I had his letters. Someday, I’d return them to him. In the dark, I rose and felt through my top dresser drawer for the round cylinder. Only clothes greeted my touch. Could Wron have taken it?

  With a blanket wrapped about me, I walked across the dimly lit hallway to his room and softly knocked. After much fumbling about, he opened the door and peered out the six-inch expanse. “Rhoda’s no
longer snoring.”

  “I cannot sleep. Do you have the letters?”

  “Yeeesss.” He fumbled about in the dark shadows of his room, before handing me the metal cylinder. “You do this only to pain me.”

  “What do you mean?” I didn’t understand.

  “You read of your father’s love . . . because you cannot have mine.” His voice broke.

  I held the cylinder closer to me. I was still gaping at him when he closed the door between us. Was that his way of telling me he loved me? His pain made mine resurface. If he never tells me, I’ll go to Evland and live on Felix’s old homestead. I’ll build a white rock cottage and find gnomes for friends.

  I set my pillow against the headboard, lit a candle, slid under the covers, and got completely comfortable before I unrolled the top letter.

  Felix’s cursive looked different—less slanted. Wrong.

  Forgive me, Dory . . . My heart leaped. Wron had written me a letter.

  I have not thought about the princess since you left. Before I met you, the waiting was difficult. Now I think only of you… while it is my obligation to marry her. I am sorry. I cannot express it any other way and not cause you pain.

  I paused to close my eyes and smile . . . Wron loved me.

  In spite of my feelings for you, I will fulfill my duty to my country. I will marry Princess Alia. Yonder and Blue Sky will merge, and our two countries will prosper because of it.

  The stars were marvelous in Evland. You will be that one shining moment in my heart that I will often reflect on. We will grant you any piece of land there that you wish, and I will think of you often.

  Wron

  Wiping tears aside, I found my notebook and ripped a page out of the back to write a response. I dipped a goose quill pen into the bottle of ink on my nightstand. With great difficulty I wrote with my left hand.

  Wron,

  Forgive me for the lack of title. Thank you for your letter. I will cherish it all of my life. There is purpose to my horrible injury in Evland, in that I may never have known how much you cared.

  I understand your obligation and responsibility to your country. As the future king of Yonder, you are a public servant, and you would not be serving Yonder if you did not marry the woman who is best for your country. The same holds true for Alia.