The thick stone muffled the sounds from the main parts of the palace, but Cordelia’s excellent hearing allowed her to pick up fragments of conversation here and there. She continued to wander, allowing her vision to blur as she focussed on her ears.
There. She stopped and allowed the familiar voice to come into focus. The unknown noble was instructing someone on the items of clothing he wanted prepared for the next day. The soiree to welcome the Rangmerans had been moved forward due to their early arrival, and he wanted to be sure he had an outfit ready.
She shielded her lantern and crept forward as quietly as possible. A little bit of searching revealed a small hole at the right height. Closing one eye, she pressed the other to the opening, hoping she wouldn’t find herself looking at a row of books or something.
The room slowly came into focus. The man she had seen at the ball spoke to another man, dressed as a servant. She hadn’t seen the second man before. After a few more lines, the noble dismissed him and sat down at an oak desk. He appeared to settle in, writing steadily on a piece of parchment.
Her limited vantage point prevented Cordelia from making out any of the words. After a lengthy period of time passed, she began to feel cramped. Stepping back she stretched, still making an effort to move silently. After a moment’s thought, she sat down on the floor of the passageway, ignoring the dust that immediately clung to her dress.
Eventually the man had to stop writing. He would make some sort of noise when he stood up which would alert her to return to her peep hole.
More time passed and she began to get bored. She should have brought a book from the small bookcase in her room. Anything would be better than sitting here doing nothing but getting stiff.
At last a noise from the noble’s room made her spring to her feet. The same servant who had been discussing the noble’s wardrobe had returned to announce the evening meal. He assisted the noble into his jacket and then watched him leave the room. Once the door had swung closed, the servant straightened the room, preparing everything for the noble’s return.
After a few minutes, he looked around in satisfaction and followed the noble out the doorway. Cordelia smiled. Unshielding her lantern, she examined the inside of the passageway. She held her breath until she saw the tell-tale outline of a doorway several feet from where she stood.
She wanted to crow with delight but refrained. It was probably better to remain quiet, even if the room was now empty.
Opening the door, she slipped into the room. From the outside, the concealed door looked like a bookshelf. She took out one of the books and propped it open. She didn’t want to risk being unable to find the opening mechanism if she needed a quick getaway.
Crossing over to the desk, she saw with disappointment that the parchment had disappeared. The noble had either put it away or taken it with him. She looked around.
It was a smallish sitting room, but a side door opened to a generous-sized bedroom. The whole thing was decorated in heavy red velvet that reminded her of the bows in the town square. Except those had evoked warmth and good cheer while this room seemed ominous and dark. Or maybe her imagination created the difference, fuelled by her suspicions about its owner.
The drawers of the desk were locked, so she was forced to leave them and explore the rest of the room. A fireplace and two small sofas proved entirely uninteresting. She moved on to the bedroom.
Lowering onto her hands and knees, she peered under the bed. Nothing, not even dust. Whoever cleaned this room deserved praise for their attention to detail. Somehow that made her doubt the noble would have left anything out in plain view.
Glancing around with despondency, her eyes caught on something on the dresser. Crossing over she examined the small crystal bottles more closely. There were two, each with a different coloured liquid inside. They looked more suited for the dresser of a lady than a man, and the thought reminded her where she had seen them before. The parfumier’s stall.
She frowned. She already knew of a connection between the two men from the overheard conversations. But she couldn’t determine the significance of her new discovery. Perhaps there was none. Perhaps he had simply bought some scent, for himself or as a gift, alongside whatever other business he was engaged in with the parfumier.
She chewed the inside of her cheek. She needed more information. Nothing in this room would convince Rafe.
Crossing back into the sitting room, she noticed a small card tucked into the edge of a large, gilt mirror. Moving closer she saw that it was an invitation to the royal soiree. The card was addressed to Viscount Ersine.
A sudden noise from the corridor caught her attention. Someone was having a conversation outside the door.
Whirling, she ran towards the open bookcase, reaching down to scoop up the book she had been using as a doorstop. Stuffing it back into its place, she whisked herself through the doorway and pulled it closed behind her, nearly catching her skirts.
It clicked shut just as she heard the main door to the Viscount’s rooms open. She clutched her chest as the burst of energy that had shot through her subsided. When she could breathe silently again, she returned to her spyhole and saw the servant had returned with a jug of water and a washbasin.
He disappeared into the bedroom and quickly came back with empty hands. Cordelia shook her head. She had been foolish to assume the man was gone for the night. If he hadn’t stopped to speak to someone in the hall, she would have been caught.
She began to move down the passageway, keeping an eye out for a doorway that led into a public corridor or a deserted room. When she found one, she waited until she was sure the coast was clear and then returned to the main palace, taking careful note of how the door looked from the outside.
She now knew the noble’s name, but she didn’t dare tell Rafe in case he relayed the information to William, and he tipped the man off. Which meant the responsibility fell on her. She would have to ensure she overheard another conversation.
Chapter 14
In the following weeks, the weather got even colder, if possible. The palace staff decorated the entire palace with the same green boughs, coloured baubles and red bows she had seen in the square.
William pointed out a sprig of mistletoe that someone had attached above the main doorway to the kitchen, and she saw several servants allowing themselves to be caught by their sweethearts underneath it. Giggles and calls of encouragement always issued from the scullery maids and apprentices in the kitchen when they witnessed the chaste pecks.
“It’s not what I expected from Northhelmian formality,” Cordelia said to William the first time she witnessed it.
“Ah, but mistletoe is a Midwinter tradition, and tradition is a special form of formality here. You can’t go against tradition.” He grinned. “An important thing to understand if you’re looking to bend the rules. Every system can be played.”
After each kiss, a berry was removed from the sprig, but Cordelia noticed that a new sprig, full of berries, appeared every time the old one was emptied. So perhaps the crown prince wasn’t the only one in the Northhelmian palace finding ways to bend the rules. She smiled, but it was rather wistful. She wished she had a sweetheart to kiss in the doorway.
Queen Ava turned out to be much more charming than she had envisioned, only occasionally showing a glint of steel behind her pleasant exterior. All the young royals were soon on friendly terms, and the Northhelmians organised an endless number of revelries and entertainments.
Cordelia’s intervention had quieted the talk against Ferdinand, and he generally accompanied them. His rank and squad were both still his, but he had been excused from his regular duties with the guard so that he could participate as a member of court during the lead up to the wedding. Cordelia had worried that, with everything that had occurred, their first meeting after her accident might be awkward. But other than clasping her hand tightly and asking after her health, Ferdy acted in his usual manner, and her own discomfort soon eased.
As well as
the standard balls and soirees, there were sleigh rides and bonfires and visits to the Midwinter gifts market. They even went ice skating once a team from the palace checked that the lake had completely frozen solid. Cordelia felt relieved, since it seemed like a final exoneration of Ferdinand, but also a little nervous. Ferdy encouraged her to give it another go, however, and Rafe and William took turns staying by her side. The enjoyable memories from her previous experience returned as she whizzed across the ice again.
One cold, clear day, after a particularly heavy snowfall, Ferdinand even led them all into the forest where they built snowmen and rode sleds down a small hill. Cordelia suspected Ferdinand had arranged the excursion after she confessed that she had always wanted to build a snowman, and she feared the activities were a little childish. But, if they were, none of the others seemed to mind, and Rafe instigated a snowball fight that even Hans, the most serious of the group, threw himself into.
After a while, the girls excused themselves and plonked down in the snow to watch the men battle it out.
“Rangmere isn’t used to having a ruler who isn’t a warrior,” said Ava, her eyes lingering on Hans as he caught Max in the back of the head with a large snowball. “I’m actually as competitive as any soldier, though, I just fight differently. In fact, I spend every day fighting against the misconceptions and prejudices around me. And, to be honest, it gets a little exhausting.”
She let herself fall backwards into the soft cushion of snow. “That’s why times like this are so nice. For once what I feel like doing happens to coincide with expectations, and I’m reminded there are some advantages to being an underestimated woman.”
Marie looked over at her and raised her eyebrows.
Ava chuckled. “If I were a man I might feel pressured to keep fighting to prove myself.” She moved her arms and legs in broad sweeping motions. “But right now, I feel far more like making a snow godmother, so I’m going to leave the fighting to Hans and do exactly what I feel like. When every day feels like an uphill slog, it’s good to remember that sometimes expectations work in your favour.”
“I know all about not meeting expectations,” said Marie, and Alyssa grimaced at her sympathetically. “It never occurred to me to think about the ways in which expectations help me. You have a crafty mind.”
“Thank you,” said Ava with satisfaction. “A crafty mind is a requirement if you want to rule a kingdom like Rangmere.”
“What’s a snow godmother?” asked Cordelia. Another reminder that the rest of the royals came from a colder climate, and she didn’t quite fit. But they had spent enough time together that she knew she could ask her questions without being laughed at.
Marie offered her hands to Ava who grasped them and allowed the other girl to pull her to her feet. Carefully, she stepped away from the marks she had made in the snow.
“That is a snow godmother.”
Cordelia examined the spot where Ava had lain. The sweeping movements of her arms and legs had left behind a shape that looked like a person in a dress with wings.
“Oh, I see.” She fell backwards and swept her arms up over her head and then back down again, simultaneously pulling her legs together. “Like this?”
“Yes, that’s it.” Alyssa tipped backwards and joined her. “I haven’t made one of these in years. I used to make them in the woods around my home when I was a girl and wish that a godmother would come and give me a more exciting life.”
“And then one did,” said Cordelia, turning her head to smile at her.
“And then one did.” Alyssa laughed. “I guess I hadn’t thought about it like that before.”
Ava had sat back down and resumed watching the snowball fight. “Ferdinand moves surprisingly quickly given his strange gait. I think he’s scored at least as many hits as any of the princes.”
“He’s the eldest son of a Marquis, isn’t he?” asked Alyssa, giving Cordelia a sideways glance.
“Yes, the only son,” said Marie, also watching the fight. “His legs were straight when we were small children–I don’t know what happened to change them, but it doesn’t affect him in the saddle, and he’s an excellent officer.” She shrugged. “I suppose he’s found ways of working around it.”
Ferdinand popped out from behind a tree and landed a snowball full in William’s face.
Ava helped both Cordelia and Alyssa out of their snow godmothers. Admiring her work, Cordelia almost didn’t notice that all three girls were staring at her.
“The two of you seem to get along very well,” said Alyssa.
Cordelia looked between the three of them and then across at Ferdinand. She blushed. “We’re just friends.”
“Mmmhmmm,” said Ava disbelievingly.
“I don’t think of him like that.” Cordelia squirmed. She didn’t want to admit out loud that his strange looks prevented her from thinking of him as anything other than a friend. It sounded ignoble even in her thoughts, but it was the truth.
“He’s a good man,” said Marie before letting the matter drop.
The conversation sparked something in Cordelia’s mind. Alongside all the entertainment, the royals were using the unique opportunity of being gathered in one place, to hold a series of discussions on everything from trade to agriculture. As a junior princess, Cordelia did not attend the meetings, and she had taken to spending those hours, and any others she could find, in the hidden passage next to the Viscount’s rooms.
She figured eventually she would hear something.
The boredom of her first visit had inspired her to take her embroidery, so she could work by the light of her lantern. At least it gave her a legitimate activity to show Priscilla when she asked where Cordelia was always disappearing off to.
After all the hours she had spent in the passageway, she now knew how the noble spoke to his servants (imperiously) and how he liked his boots polished (to a mirror shine). But she still didn’t have any definitive proof of a conspiracy.
She hadn’t even seen any sign of the second man, the one from the parfumier’s stall.
She had concluded that she needed another set of eyes. Or, well, ears. She still didn’t want to risk Rafe or William finding out the Viscount’s title, and Marie was busy planning her wedding.
But she did have another option.
The day after their excursion, she asked Ferdy if he would walk in the gardens with her. He readily accepted, and she gathered her courage and told him the whole story. After the first few lines, a frown appeared on his face and didn’t disappear.
“Did you ever find out anything from the head groom? Or about the parfumier?” Cordelia concluded.
Ferdinand narrowed his eyes. “Nothing we could action. But also nothing to contradict your concerns. The parfumier is known as a bit of an unsavoury character, but no specific charges against him have been made.”
“And the groom?”
“The stable master had no idea which horse I was talking about. He isn’t one of the palace ones, and we couldn’t find him amongst the Arcadian animals either. He simply disappeared.”
“Suspicious.”
“Very. But there’s not much we can do about it. I’ve put out a request to all the guards to keep an eye out for him, but no one has seen anything yet.”
“I don’t exactly blame William for not taking me seriously.” Cordelia’s shoulders slumped. “But I’m horribly afraid I’m right and something terrible is going to happen.”
Ferdinand stopped and took one of her hands, holding it tightly between both of his. “Of course I’ll help you, Princess Cordelia. It would be an honour as well as my duty.”
For the second time, communicating her fears to Ferdinand produced a sensation like a weight falling away.
“Oh good.” She smiled at him. “Do you want to see the passageways?”
She had spent a little bit of time exploring the hidden passages, and she now knew the location and secrets of many of the openings. Leading Ferdinand through the palace, she almost skipped w
ith excitement.
Having a friend with her returned some of the initial excitement of her discovery.
“I would never have seen that,” said Ferdy, as she showed him the hidden mechanism that opened a door in the wood panelling of an abandoned sitting room.
“That’s the idea, of course. But I have an eye for these things.” She smiled proudly. It wasn’t much, but it was nice to be good at something.
After their conversation, Ferdy disappeared from some of the outings with the royals, and she knew what he was doing instead.
But her favourite hours were when they were both free, and they sat on the dusty floor together. When the Viscount’s rooms were empty, they would talk. Cordelia heard all about Ferdy’s childhood with William and Marie, and he got the full tale of what it was like to grow up as one of seven royal children.
“When are your parents arriving?” she asked him two days before Midwinter.
The increasing number of dress fittings and other preparations for the wedding had been keeping Cordelia away from the secret passageways despite the underlying tension growing beneath her ribs. Everything was building to a climax and, even with Ferdy’s help, she had neither seen nor heard anything conclusive.
She might even have given up on her spying, except that as the palace grew busier, she valued her time hidden away with Ferdy more and more.
“They should arrive by this evening. They’ll want to rest before the Midwinter Masquerade tomorrow evening.”
“I’m looking forward to meeting them.” Cordelia couldn’t deny a curiosity to see what they looked like.
“They look nothing like me, thankfully,” said Ferdy, filling Cordelia with guilt for being so transparent.
She wanted to protest politely, but it would have seemed a little hollow.
While she tried to think of something to say, a sound from inside the Viscount’s room made them both leap up. Positioning themselves at two viewing holes, they saw the noble enter the room. Another man came in behind him.
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