When my foot hit the rooftop, I kept going, terrified I’d fall backward. But I didn’t, and as my heart raced, I realized that I’d done it.
Following the line of rooms back to the one that had Lady Lisette’s pink gown wasn’t difficult. Even in my heightened state the irony reached me: this castle was easier to navigate from the rooftops than it was from the inside.
“Derrick?” I called his name as soon as I could see over the top of the ladder. Like he had before, I swung my leg over the brick wall and stepped onto yet another rooftop. This one was flat and wide, about the size of the children’s suite. There were little structures almost like buildings that dotted the roof. One looked fairly modern and I suspected it housed the top of the elevator shaft. “Derrick?”
Cold wind whipped around me as I hurried across the roof. There was a fairly large structure at the far end, and I couldn’t see around it. As I neared I heard a strange noise, like a low-pitched chattering.
At the edge of the structure, I turned the corner and walked into a little alcove, sheltered on three sides.
Startled, I looked around. There were boxes. And birds. Lots of birds. Pigeons were everywhere, preening themselves, eating from shallow dishes of seeds, and walking in and out of open wooden crates. Derrick was crouched in the middle, pouring food from a bag into one of the feeding dishes.
As my shadow passed over him, he shot to his feet, looking shocked. “Miss Andrews! You shouldn’t be up here. It’s dangerous.”
“I know it’s dangerous. That’s why you shouldn’t be up here, either.” In my fear over what could have happened, my words came out harshly. “How did you get here? Did you step across from the balcony?”
He peered up at me, looking confused. “No, there’s a trap door at the top of the closet in the Eckstein room.” At my frown, he elaborated. “There’s a ladder built into the wall. It’s easy.”
It still sounded like he could get hurt. But maybe he could show me. After all, I certainly wasn’t going to try to go back the way I’d come. No more vaulting the balcony rail. “You know you’re not supposed to be up here.”
“Why not?” For the first time since I’d met him, Derrick looked defiant. “Nobody’s using this space, and they get cold in the winter. They can’t find food easily. I’m not hurting anyone.”
Despite his staunch words, his lip trembled slightly. It was clear he didn’t like challenging me. “Of course you’re not hurting anyone,” I said, and I took his hand and pulled him over to a stack of stone bricks about the height of a bench. He sat next to me and I tried to figure out how to continue. “It’s not that you’re hurting anyone, but you could’ve gotten hurt.”
“I’m careful,” he said. “I never go too close to the edge.”
That wasn’t entirely comforting to hear, but I let it pass. “But what if something happened to you up here? No one would have any idea of where to look for you.”
Guilt crossed Derrick’s face and he ducked his head.
“You were the one who told me it’s dangerous up here,” I said. “If it’s dangerous for me, then it’s dangerous for you, too.”
“I’m always careful. I’ve been coming up here for over a year.”
He’d first come up here by himself when he was six? I couldn’t even imagine that. But as my pulse slowed to something resembling a normal rate, I was paying more attention to my surroundings. “It looks like you’ve been busy.”
“Yeah. I started with just bringing them crumbs and bread from the kitchen. There were only a few then. Then I found a bag of seeds in the gardener’s shack. Now so many come every day. And some of them sleep here at night.” He gestured toward the crates.
“You’ve made a nice area for them.” I wasn’t just saying that—he really had. I wanted to keep him from doing anything dangerous in the future, but I didn’t want to ignore what he’d accomplished. “Do any other kinds of birds come here?”
“Yes,” he said, “but I don’t know their names in English. I could show you, though.”
I looked around, trying to spot any birds that were different, but they all looked like dumb, gray pigeons to me. Except one that was extremely small and fast-moving. “A mouse!” I shrieked, leaping to my feet as it came my way.
Derrick rose as well, looking nonchalant. “Yeah, they come up here to eat, too.”
Wondering just how many times I was going to be startled out of my skin today, I watched as the mouse disappeared under a crate. I doubt that the inhabitants of the castle below would approve of Derrick’s hobby attracting rodents.
“Mice and birds,” I muttered under my breath. All that was needed was for one of them to pull out a needle and thread and Autumn’s prediction of me having my own Cinderella moment would come true.
“Here, miss.” Derrick was holding up an ancient and weathered book. The yellowed pages looked like they were about to fall out. “This one here. I see one of these about three times a week.”
I squinted at the illustration, but I couldn’t figure out what bird it was supposed to represent. Not that I was an expert, but the book was so worn I doubt anyone could’ve identified the bird. That didn’t deter Derrick, however.
“And this one, here. And this one on page forty-nine.” He stopped and looked up at me. “Do you think you could look up the English names online?”
“I can try,” I said. “But first we need to go back inside before they call out a search party.” Even as I said this, I realized how little sense it made. Derrick had been coming up here for a year. But that didn’t matter; all that mattered was getting him back inside safely. “Can you show me the way you get down? And maybe later we can look on the internet.”
“Sure, Miss Andrews.” He knelt down and carefully wrapped his bird book in a heavy piece of cloth. Then he slid the bundle under a loose brick. Straightening up, he smiled at me before setting off.
As I followed him along the rooftop, I thought about the difficult conversation we needed to have. There was no way I could let him continue to come up here, at least not by himself.
But once that was resolved, it wouldn’t hurt to foster his interest in birds. It was clear he knew a lot about them. And maybe once we’d looked them up online, I could get him a new bird book—one that was in English and looked like it had been written sometime in the current millennium.
As I followed Derrick down a narrow staircase that led to the closet, a wry thought came to me. Did Amazon deliver to castles?
11
Cara
Though there were a few inches of new snow on the ground Saturday morning, the children wanted to go to the market in the square. To my surprise, Gretchen said she’d join us. I was excited about that. It would be nice to get to know her better, plus I was eager to spend some time conversing with an actual adult. Talking to Elyse was still like pulling teeth, though Derrick seemed more relaxed with me now that I knew about his secret hideout.
After breakfast, I dashed back to my room to bundle up. Autumn’s first care package had arrived, and now I had more than enough scarves, hats, and mittens. One look at the gorgeous things she’d made had convinced me to leave the knitting to her.
On the way back, I ran into the prince—literally.
“Miss Andrews!” he exclaimed as he grabbed me by the upper arms, keeping me from crashing into him. “Where are you off to in such a hurry?”
“The market in the square,” I said breathlessly. I wasn’t sure if I was breathless from hurrying down the hall—I still wasn’t entirely used to the altitude here—or from practically being in his arms.
Something told me it might be the latter. And I couldn’t help realizing that this was the first time he’d touched me since I tripped getting off the train my first day here.
“It’s a beautiful day for it,” he said, letting me go.
I took a step back and looked up at him. “Do… would you like to come?” Nico looked surprised, and I smiled inwardly. Maybe no one ever invited princes anywhere?
>
“Thank you, but I have work to do.”
Was he actually tempted? It kind of looked like he was. “Gretchen’s coming, too. It’ll be fun. We can all play hooky together.”
He gave that one-sided half smile that looked so good on him. He didn’t do that often, but when he did, it was a sight to behold. It changed his whole countenance—it took him from an aloof, handsome man to a good-looking guy who seemed almost approachable.
“I don’t think princes get to play hooky,” he said.
“Well, they should.” I’d have to see what I could do about getting the prince to take some time off. Even if he didn’t do it for his own sake, he should for the children’s. Except for the twice weekly history lessons and dinner, I rarely saw him interact with them. Surely sometimes they just hung out and played together, but I’d yet to see it.
“Indeed. I should get back to work. Enjoy the market.”
“Thank you.” As he turned to leave, I recalled that I hadn’t yet had a chance to talk to him about Derrick and the pigeon problem. “Do you have any time to meet this afternoon?”
“Is something wrong?”
The look of concern in his hazel eyes made me pause. He was a good father. He loved his kids. In my not-so-professional opinion, they were just kind of… stuck in a holding pattern. It was my job to help them relax more around each other. And it seemed like a good way to start would be to get them to relax more around me. “Why would you assume that? Maybe I want to bring you a souvenir back from the market.”
He arched an eyebrow. “You had that ‘we need to talk’ look. It’s an expression men across the world recognize—and fear.”
My god, he’d actually almost made a joke. There was hope for the man yet. “Okay, yes, I’d like to talk to you about something. But maybe I also want to bring you back a treat.”
“I’ve got some time at three.”
“Great. See you then.”
He nodded goodbye and I took a flight of steps that I was almost certain would lead me to the front entrance. Just when I was at the bottom, I heard my name. Turning, I saw the prince at the top of the stairs. “There’s this one booth that sells these individual cinnamon strudels. They’re enormous. Gretchen will know which ones I mean.”
“You’ve got it, Your Majesty.”
* * *
“I wish we had markets like this back home,” I said to Gretchen. We were standing near a booth that sold handwoven purses and clothing. The children were examining wares nearby.
“It is a nice place, miss. Just wait until you see it at Eastertime. There’ll be even more vendors then.”
“Sounds lovely.” I’d seen pictures of the painted eggs local craftspeople made, and I wanted to buy some for my sister. However, I wasn’t entirely sure they’d survive the mailing process.
Derrick ran up with a thick slice of bread with honey. I’d seen a nearby booth giving away free samples, and I envied him. How nice to be that young and that unconcerned about carbohydrates. “Is it time for the puppet show?”
Gretchen took off her mitten and looked at her watch. “Nearly so.” At my questioning glance, she elaborated. “The puppet man only performs once a month. That’s why you didn’t see him last week.”
“Can we go now?” Derrick licked a drop of honey off his thumb as his sister drifted up beside him. Without a word, he handed her the rest of his bread. Aww… that was sweet.
“Of course,” I said. “Can you show me where it is?”
The eager children led me to a small space at the back of the square. The wooden puppet stage was obviously handmade, but it looked to have been crafted with care. Red material skirted the bottom half, and the frame around the stage area was painted with bright colors. It looked big enough for one or two puppeteers to fit behind.
Derrick and Elyse settled onto thick matts on the ground in front of the stage along with a dozen other children. Gretchen took a wool blanket out of her bag and we tucked it around the twins’ shoulders before finding seats in a row of folding chairs behind them.
The show started with two puppets, one appearing to be a knight and one a jester, sharing the stage. I couldn’t understand the German, but that didn’t matter. It was enjoyable anyway. Though cold, it was a beautiful day. The sun was shining, and the small capital city was about as picturesque as they came. Of course, probably any town would look picturesque surrounded by such tall, snowcapped peaks.
Peals of laughter caught my attention. To my surprise, Elyse was one of the children giggling. She seemed engrossed by the show. A king and a queen puppet were on stage now, and though I couldn’t understand the words, I was impressed by the puppeteer. He used different voices for each character, and he was getting a lot of laughs. I wonder if he knew he was performing for a real prince and princess?
By the end of the show, I was completely entranced, and I cheered as loudly as any of the kids. When the twins joined us, I was about to suggest that we head back. Gretchen, however, was looking at her phone.
“Tante Marie just got here,” she said to the twins. “Would you like to see her?”
“Yes, please!” Derrick said, and Elyse nodded.
“She’s my sister,” Gretchen explained. “She lives in a small town on the border, so I don’t get to see her very much.”
As far as I knew, the border of Falkenberg was no more than thirty miles away, but I understood. I had a sister, too. “How nice that she could come.”
Gretchen surveyed me for a moment. “Why don’t I take the children with me and you take a half hour for yourself, miss? You haven’t had many breaks lately.”
Gratefully, I nodded. Some time to explore on my own sounded perfect. We made plans to meet at the booth with the strudels the prince liked, and Gretchen led the children away.
Once alone, I couldn’t quite decide how to use my temporary freedom. There were a couple of things I wanted to buy, but it would also be nice to get some hot cocoa and relax for a bit. This seemed like a good place to people-watch.
Most of the crowd watching the puppet show had dispersed, but the puppeteer was still there, placing his puppets carefully into a case. He was younger than I’d assumed, perhaps in his mid-twenties. He was tall and lanky, and with his somewhat spiky blond hair, he reminded me of a scarecrow.
On impulse, I walked over to him. “Bravo,” I said, figuring that was probably understandable in any language.
“Danke sehr.” The man smiled and gave a little bow.
His good-natured grin made me want to say more. “Do you speak any English?”
“I do.” He picked up the knight puppet. “And this one does. But not this one,” he added, pointing to the jester.
I laughed. “You did a really great job.”
His eyes lit up at my words. “I’m glad you enjoyed the show.” His English was more accented than the prince and the twins, but less so than Gretchen’s.
“How long have you been doing puppet shows?”
“Since I was a boy.” He pointed to the king puppet. The crown and beard were painted on the puppet’s wooden face. “My grandfather gave me this one when I was six years old.”
“May I?”
He picked up the puppet and put it in my hands. “Of course.”
I turned it over, examining the workmanship. Though aged, everything was meticulous, right down to the stitching on the puppet’s royal finery. “I’ve never seen one like this. It’s really well made.”
The man laughed. “Do you spend a lot of time with puppets?”
I grinned wryly as I handed the puppet back. “I’ve been involved in every kind of theater imaginable. It was my minor in college.”
The puppeteer’s eyes widened. “It was? What’s your name? I’m Von.”
“Cara Andrews.” We shook hands.
“It’s so nice to meet you, Cara.” From a pocket in his flannel shirt, he pulled out his phone, talking as he tapped at it. “Are you an actor? Singer? Dancer?”
“Definitely just the
first. Well… sometimes I sang, but not a whole lot.”
“Wow, is this you?” He held out his phone and I recognized the picture from a play I’d been in my junior year of college.
“Yes.”
“You were on Broadway!”
“It was off, off, off Broadway,” I corrected. “I went to school in New York. Have you studied theater somewhere?”
“No, but I’ve been to NYC. I saw some shows when I was there.” He still had his eyes on his phone. “You’re a playwright, too?”
“Yes, just for student productions.”
He pocketed his phone. “I write plays, too. Do you have time for a cup of coffee?”
I glanced at my watch. I didn’t have long, but I had a few minutes. How often did one meet a fellow theater nerd on another continent? I’d definitely found one of my people.
12
Nico
“Thank you,” I said, accepting a familiar-looking bag from Cara. Cinnamon strudel—one of the true pleasures in life. “I’ll have that a bit later. Care to go for a walk?”
She cocked her head to the side. “I thought we were going to talk.”
“Yes, but rare individuals are capable of walking and talking at the same time. I’m one of those, and I suspect you are, too.” Her pink lips curved upward. Cheerful seemed to be her default mode, but it was still nice to be the direct cause of her lovely smile. “Besides, you haven’t toured the castle grounds yet. Unless it’s too cold?”
“It’s not too cold. Just let me go bundle up.”
She left, and I recalled all the knitted items she’d been wearing when I ran into her this morning. My first impression had been of a pair of sky-blue eyes peering out from under meters of scarves.
Still, I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to get outside. My morning workout had been hours ago, and my legs were stiff with disuse. Since I couldn’t spare a weekend to go skiing, I’d have to find other ways to enjoy a beautiful day like today.
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