The Orphan's Secret

by R. J. Francis

  The doors to the apartments had been locked to impede the invading enemy. While the princesses fumbled with their key rings to find the right keys, Julian snuck a peek around the lip of his alcove to find a target for his bow. Crack! A bolt grazed his head just above the ear.

  Alethea and Andienna, each having found she had a key the other needed, exchanged key rings by tossing them across the hall. “Take the stairs,” Andienna called.

  “But they… Moserere neutume, taseloei,” urged Alethea.

  “We don’t have a choice,” said Andienna. “Meet us upstairs.” Both princesses unlocked their doors, ushered their parties through, and, with quivering hands, locked the doors behind them.

  Alethea, Julian, and Valeriy had entered a lavishly furnished sitting room. In several step-down seating areas, semi-circular couches of white linen, dressed with gold and ivory pillows shaped like scallops and clams, hugged low wooden tables. Vines abundant in purple flowers crisscrossed lattice-patterned walls.

  Alethea showed Julian and Valeriy to a spiral staircase built into the wall. They ran up it.

  The dressing chamber upstairs had a ceiling made entirely of glass. Blinding sunlight streamed in. Valeriy quickly ran to unlatch the door that led out to the upstairs corridor, where they were to meet back up with the others, but the locking bolt was damaged, jammed in its socket.

  Suddenly, from beyond the door, they heard the Crack! of a powered crossbow, the shriek of a toddler, the clink of steel against steel, and frantic, desperate shouts, unintelligible through the thick wood.

  Alethea, her face coated with tears, sank to her knees and held her ears to block out the screams and cries. Julian squatted to comfort her. Valeriy kicked the lock with all he had. It wasn’t enough.

  “I can’t get it open,” said Valeriy. “Find something to bash it with.” Julian got back up and looked around.

  The ruckus continued out in the hall. “The child!” Alethea cried. Valeriy took a few steps back, ran at the door and kicked it once more. It still wasn’t enough.

  Crash! A door broke, but not the one Valeriy was trying to open. It was the door in the room below, yielding to the enemy. It would be just seconds before their pursuers came up the stairs. Julian had lifted up a settee to use as a ram, but instead he turned and threw it down into the stairwell, buying them a little time.

  Valeriy tried smashing the lock with a heavy planter, but the lock held fast.

  Outside the door, the clamor of battle had ceased, but a child still wailed.

  Meanwhile, the settee wedged in the stairwell was heaving, pushed from below by Radovan’s soldiers. Julian threw all of his weight on it, and from the clatter down there it seemed he’d knocked a few enemies back.

  Alethea, her face wracked with grief, sobbed: “It’s too late. It’s too… late…”

  “Let’s try this…” Julian scooted a long oaken dressing table away from the wall. “Stay down, out of sight,” he instructed Alethea. With more strength than they knew they had, he and Valeriy lifted the table and ran it into the door. Crrrrrunch! Shards and slivers flew. The door’s brass skeleton held stubbornly to wood in places, but now there was a space large enough for someone to climb through.

  Wiping sweat from his eyes, Julian cautiously peered out. The door to the room across the hall was wide open. At its threshold, the Arran soldier from Stephan’s group lay dead.

  Julian looked to his right. At the end of the hall, in a sun-drenched atrium, stood the master of all this mess, Prince Radovan, with two of his royal guards.

  In his right hand, Radovan held a blood-smeared broadsword, and under his left arm the little girl in the blue dress flailed, bawling.

  “It’s Julian, Your Highness,” said one of his guards.

  “Julian, my friend,” shouted Radovan over the cries of the girl. “You’re a fool to get involved here.”

  “Let the little one go,” Julian said. “We can make a deal.”

  “This one? She’s mine,” Radovan yelled. “Don’t think I won’t come after what’s mine.”

  “She’s not yours, you horror!” Alethea screamed, starting for the hall. Valeriy grabbed her arm to hold her back.

  Radovan turned and fled with his men toward the grand hall. Julian clambered out the hole in the door, followed by the others, and they made for the atrium. What they saw there made them stop cold.

  Two fountains made up part of a coral reef sculpture that spanned the entire eastern wall. A Destaurian royal guard lay dead on the floor, his head crushed and gorged with blood. Draped over the lip of the north fountain was Prince Stephan, his neck sliced more than halfway through. Blood dribbled from the ends of his hair in strings and puddled on the atrium’s floor.

  Julian ran to his younger brother’s body, dropped to his knees, and wailed. “I told you not to come!” he cried. “I told you! You should have listened! Father will not survive this. You should have listened…”

  Alethea made her own gruesome find: it was Princess Andienna’s body, inside the fountain’s shallow basin, her flesh deeply slit below her breast. Blood still drained from her fresh wound.

  Trembling, Alethea reached down and slid off her fallen friend’s pearl-studded silver crown, peeled the wet curls off her eyes, and made sure both lids were closed.

  A heavy thud signaled that their pursuers had dislodged the settee and were headed their way. Julian and the survivors fled northward toward the library, leaving the dead where they lay.

  Elaina stayed by Jaimin’s side the rest of the afternoon. He insisted on taking a look beneath her flesh at her head wound, but there was a limit to what a mender could do with bruising. The time flew, and soon Nastasha was back to fetch Elaina to prepare for dinner.

  Although Elaina wore slightly larger clothes, Nastasha managed to find articles in her vast wardrobe that worked well for her guest. Elaina borrowed an indigo satin dress, a shawl of black lace, and black shoes with thin leather straps that wound up her legs in a double helix, attaching to a band mid-calf. She stepped up in front of Nastasha’s full-length mirror, reflecting on the day’s events and making minor adjustments to her outfit.

  Nastasha brought over a hair pin in the shape of a trillium flower. Tiny diamonds sprinkled on the glass pin sent the lamp light dancing across its surface. She set it in place above Elaina’s right ear—after asking to make sure that wasn’t the side of her head she’d injured. Then she laid a delicate diamond and sapphire choker necklace on Elaina’s neck, and fastened it in the back.

  Nastasha wore a low-cut blue velvet gown with white lace trim and detailed white embroidery. Her earrings were elliptical diamonds in settings of white gold, from which strands of miniscule diamonds dangled, giving the impression of snow falling from a cloud. Her rope necklace of white gold matched her eight woven-gold armlets, four on each arm.

  “That’s perfect,” Nastasha said of Elaina’s outfit. “What do you think?”

  “It’s lovely,” Elaina said. “I’ve never worn a dress before.”

  “Keep it. All of it. Take it home with you.”

  Elaina tried to object, but Nastasha insisted, saying she had so many nice things, and that these were perfect for Elaina. “We were created with great beauty,” Nastasha said. “We must strive to look our best at all times. It’s a gift we give to others.”

  Elaina smiled at her reflection. She did look lovely. If only I had longer hair… And considering her beauty a gift to others made sense. She decided she’d always look and dress the best she could. Especially around her boyfriend.

  The new friends walked hand in hand to the Glass Gardens, where the queen had arranged a formal dinner.

  When they opened the door to the gardens, they were met with a gust of balmy, perfumed air. The entire floor was made of rich, black soil, over which elevated wooden walkways led off in several directions, allowing visitors access to thousands of tropical specimens. Many of the plants were still in bloom despite the lateness of the season, thanks to an elaborate system o
f mirrors on the roof that swiveled to track the fleeting autumn sun and divert its precious light downward.

  Elaina ran to admire a vine that was adorned with a shawl of blue bell-shaped flowers. Deep within each honey-scented bell, furry bumblebees helped the plant transfer specks of sticky sexual powder to its female parts. A tree nearby was weighed down with bunches of orange bananas. A grid of miniscule lamps suspended from the garden’s ceiling gave the illusion of an array of flickering stars.

  “This place is magical,” Elaina whispered. “I could spend months in here.”

  “It is enchanting.” Nastasha had grown up in the castle, and some of her favorite classes had been taught in these gardens. She wished Elaina could have had the same opportunity.

  Even though she’d been invited to dinner in this “magical place,” Elaina would not be getting the full tour. On a stone platform not far from the entrance, a glass dinner table had been set for four. The queen and Alessa, who had been conversing at the table, now stood on the platform’s edge to welcome the girls.

  When Elaina and Nastasha stepped up onto the platform, they noticed a drop in the temperature and humidity, which Nastasha later explained was an effect of the gardens’ advanced ventilation system. “The botanists can control the temperature and humidity of every square meter in this room,” she would tell Elaina during dessert. “They can sustain many different exotic species this way. It also helps keep the bees and the hummingbirds away from the table.”

  Elaina and Nastasha curtseyed before the queen, and Nastasha curtseyed to Alessa. Elaina wasn’t sure how to greet Alessa, as she’d always just given her a hug, so she gave a little bow instead. Alessa, flashing an inscrutable smile, curtseyed to each of them.

  “You both look lovely,” said the queen. “Thank you for joining us.”

  “The pleasure is ours, Your Majesty,” said Nastasha. “We thank you for the invitation.”

  All were seated. Elaina and Nastasha admired the crystal plates, crystal stemware, and diamond-studded silverware with which the transparent table was arrayed. The napkins had been lightly starched, folded, set on end, and cleverly twisted into perfect spirals.

  Servers stepped out of the shadows and filled the goblets with chilled tangerine water.

  “Alessa says you excel at cooking,” the queen said to Elaina. “I warned my chef that I would be dining with a discriminating guest, and she has been working since morning to ensure that each bite you take will be exceptional.”

  “I’m honored, Your Majesty.”

  “Perhaps you can train Alessa in the culinary arts, now that your mornings will be free,” said Alethea. Alessa giggled, but the queen shot her a look that told her the suggestion was meant to be serious.

  The servers brought in the first course: a flaky pastry stuffed with wild mushrooms and dry white cheese. Elaina struggled to eat the appetizer properly with the tiny knives and forks the servers had provided. Alessa started a conversation about how the flavors of the various well-known fungi might be described.

  The second course was a yellow squash soup served with nutmeg-flavored water. Elaina was indeed impressed by the soup’s enticing aroma, its swirled garnish of cream, its silky texture, its perfect temperature, and the subtle play of spices. As she savored each spoonful, she listened, intrigued by how Alessa and the queen got on like childhood friends—which, when Elaina thought more about it, maybe they were.

  The third course was a peppered beef roast, served with caramelized garlic, green beans, and a hot tomato and celery juice.

  After the plates were cleared, the queen addressed her guests. “My dear ladies,” she began, “thank you for joining me here tonight. I can only begin to express how grateful I am for your saving the life of my son. Yesterday might have ended in disaster, but thanks to your sacrifice our prince is safe and well.”

  “You should all know,” she continued, “that I have spoken with the prisoner, Raquel. She was quite eager to reveal to me what she had ascertained from your minds. She’s a danger to our kingdom, not just because of how horridly she behaves, but because of what she knows. Her father, as well—he must remain imprisoned for the time being. The king has decreed that under penalty of death, the destructive talent they have must never again be used in our kingdom.”

  “Your Majesty, if you please, had Devon anything to do with the spies who were in the castle last week?” asked Nastasha.

  “No,” said the queen sharply, her face turning sour. “I’ve spoken to Devon. He wasn’t conspiring with any spies, I’m sure of it.” She seemed eager to move off the topic.

  “Thank you,” Nastasha said.

  The queen said, “Tonight I wish to present each of you with a gift.” A server brought in a tray with three olive wood boxes. The queen placed the boxes in front of her on the table. She addressed Nastasha first.

  “Nastasha, you have been my son’s faithful friend all his life. Your devotion to him and your keen intellect are tremendous assets to our nation. I must admit that on occasion I have felt threatened by your resourcefulness, but you have demonstrated your loyalty beyond question. I should have seen long ago that you were trustworthy and deserving of esteem.”

  “You honor me, Your Majesty,” Nastasha said.

  The queen lifted the first wooden box. “My dear Nastasha, as a token of my complete trust in you, I am presenting you with your own set of keys to the Royal Archives. You may enter into and remain in the archives at any time, night or day, and a thousand years of knowledge will be yours to peruse. I am sure you will use what you learn for the benefit of us all.” She opened the box to reveal six shiny new silver keys, tied together with a white lace ribbon. The head of each key was engraved with a fancy letter “N.” The queen held up the open box so her guests could see its contents, and then she passed it to a breathless Nastasha.

  “Thank you, Your Majesty,” she said, taking the keys out and clutching them to her heart.

  “Alessa,” said the queen, turning to Alessa. “My dear, I have something for you as well. You have been a tremendous help to us—sacrificing much, and asking little in return. I recently came across something you once prized.”

  She handed the second olive wood box to Alessa. When Alessa opened it, a broad smile spread over her face. She lifted a compact leather-bound book from the box, scanned the cover, and put it down next to her plate. She stood and hugged the queen, thanking her in a whisper. Nastasha and Elaina craned their necks to see the gift.

  “This was one of my treasures when I was a little girl,” explained Alessa, passing the diminutive book to Elaina, who paged through it with Nastasha. It looked to be a field guide on the subject of tide pool animals—although it was written in Celmarean script, which neither Elaina nor Nastasha could read. The well-worn manual included hand-painted illustrations of Celmarean coastal creatures in their natural habitats. There was a fancy word written inside the front cover. “That’s my name,” Alessa said. “I wrote it in there myself. I had no idea this book survived the war.”

  “Now Elaina,” said the queen, turning next to Elaina. “You will soon learn about our shared history. You will hear delightful stories, and tragic ones as well. As you listen to these tales of your past, stay strong. Remember that you mean so much to us. Every day, I thank the divine spirit for having brought you and my son together.”

  Elaina was confused. She thought she was to be permanently excluded from the castle—now it sounded as if she were getting the queen’s blessing.

  “You and Jaimin will be together, if that is what you wish,” said the queen, “and despite what the king may say. My husband is still under tragedy’s spell. As it seems the most practical option, my son may continue to visit you in the manner he has been using. I shall advise the army and the guards, and the rules of privilege may keep the king from discovering you.”

  “Privilege?” Elaina asked.

  “May I explain, Your Majesty?” Nastasha asked.

  “Please,” the queen said.
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  “The army and royal guard are generally forbidden from reporting the daily activities of princes and princesses to the king or queen, even if the activities violate a law or a royal decree. It’s a centuries-old tradition. In exchange, royal children rarely try to evade supervision. The royal parents can be assured that, although their children might be getting into trouble, at least they are safe.”

  “Still,” said the queen, “you will have to be careful. Guards have breached privilege from time to time. I have confidence that the guard and the garrison on patrol in the southern forest will not reveal you, so Jaimin should only visit you there.”

  “Thank you, Your Majesty,” Elaina said.

  After surveying her guests to make sure there were no more questions, Alethea continued praising Elaina: “I thank you, Elaina, for the love you have shown to my son. I look forward to the day when the kingdom sees you for who you truly are. This, my dear, is yours.”

  The queen handed Elaina the last wooden box, and said nothing more. Elaina opened the box, and almost dropped it when she saw the exquisite gift inside. Her heart quivered as she lifted from the box a necklace with a golden gem-encrusted pendant in the shape of a sea star.

  She knew at once that she’d seen this object in a dream, but the dream itself she could no longer remember.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Over the week that followed, Elaina settled in at Alessa’s house, and Nastasha spent every night in the Royal Archives searching for the book that didn’t want to be read.

  Each day, Elaina got up early and made breakfast, after which she sat down with Alessa for an intensive study session. The queen asked Alessa to forgo the geometry, and instead train Elaina in political science, foreign affairs, and protocol. Around noon, also in keeping with the wishes of the queen, Elaina gave Alessa a lesson in cooking. Afternoons were for napping, exercising, meditation, and riding. Later, they bathed in the pools, and then worked on their regular lessons until Jaimin arrived—which was usually quite late.

  Alessa always retired to her room before Jaimin arrived, and she wouldn’t come out to meet him. Jaimin started to wonder whether this Alessa person actually existed, or whether Elaina and the others were making her up. He hadn’t been able to thank Alessa for saving his life.