by Kristen Reed
Maybe Christoffer was right about God restoring me, she contemplated. If I’m treated well, I’ll simply thank the Lord for it. If not, I’ll praise him for putting this beautiful roof over my head for however long I’m welcome here.
With renewed resolve, Muirigan stepped away from the bird, which took flight as soon as she reached out to close the window. Opening the Bible Andrea gave her years before, she sought solace in the twenty-third Psalm.
“‘The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. …’”
Chapter 4
The next morning, Muirigan awakened to the sound of footsteps and a key unlocking her door. Galvanized by fear, the maid reached for the candelabra on her bedside table and scrambled to her feet. When the intruder opened the door, Muirigan beheld a servant standing in the doorway with her breakfast. The self-protective young woman set down the decoration turned weapon, silently chiding herself for her extreme reaction.
“I’ve come to deliver your breakfast and a new dress, my lady,” the servant announced, raising a blonde eyebrow. “Shall I come back later?”
“No, now is perfect. You can just leave everything here. I’ll serve myself.”
The plump older woman arranged the meal on the table near the window. Next, she draped the dress across the foot of Muirigan’s bed, eyeing the young woman with curiosity and a bit of suspicion.
“Thank you,” Muirigan said with a forced smile.
“When would you like me to clear away your meal, my lady?”
“How about an hour from now?”
“I will return then.”
With that, the servant left the room and closed the door behind her. Muirigan shook her head and ran a hand through her hair, ashamed of her reaction to the woman. She hadn’t feared for her life as she slept in five years, but apparently the old habits she thought she abandoned when the Hansens took her in weren’t so eager to be cast off.
At least it was a servant and not Halvard, she thought as she began tearing into the expertly cooked eggs. Then again, what reason would he have for creeping into my room unannounced?
Even as the words crossed her mind, Muirigan knew exactly what his reason would be, and a dark mood settled over her. Halvard might be a prince, but he was also an unmarried man with the flames of youth still burning within him. Many men of his age and social class regularly visited the women who sold themselves for little more than a few øre … and Muirigan herself had spent several disheartening evenings with an older nobleman.
Remembering the bleakest of her twenty-two years, Muirigan shuddered. Though she allowed many men to use her during her most desperate moments, the Count of Alfhilde was the only one whose memory still haunted her. Torvald Ovesen sought her out more than any other man, praising her resemblance to her mother as he thoughtfully twirled the ends of his waxed black mustache. The aging nobleman proclaimed his love for her on numerous occasions and offered to buy her a home in the country where he could visit her as he liked. Much to his dismay, she politely declined every time and eventually refused his advances.
The promise of comfort and security tempted Muirigan, but she couldn’t resign herself to being a married man’s kept mistress for the rest of her life. Unfortunately, the count became more aggressive with each rebuff. When he beat her after her final rejection, she knew she made the right decision.
Muirigan sprinted out of the alley and into the street with a bloody, torn dress and burgeoning bruises, desperate to escape his brutality. Fortunately, the distraught young lady collided with Christoffer and Andrea, and the Hansens took her in without hesitation. Her crooked nose, which didn’t heal quite right after the count broke it with his meaty fists, was a constant reminder of her year of homelessness and prostitution. Even with that permanent gift from Torvald, Muirigan thanked God for rescuing her from that darkness before greater harm could come to her. He also kept her from contracting the wasting illnesses that infected other women who shared her grisly past.
God had been exceedingly merciful to her.
And now he’s brought me here, she marveled.
After finishing her breakfast, Muirigan relaxed in the spacious bathtub for a bit and dressed herself for the day. Her new emerald dress was embellished with gold embroidery, and the vivid shade brightened her dark green eyes while also making her tanned skin glow. Fortunately, the new dress fit her shoulders much better, sparing her the discomfort of squeezing her shoulder blades together constantly. Once more, she fixed her hair in an unadorned style, humming a beloved hymn and relishing in the reminder of God’s love instead of dwelling on her present insecurities.
Shortly before one o’clock, someone knocked on Muirigan’s door. Feeling considerably less jumpy than she had that morning, the maid swung the door open with a grin. Alas, anxiety joined her optimism when she beheld the fair-haired Queen of Villriket herself.
“Hello, Sonja,” Ingrid greeted as her new guest fell into a curtsy.
“Good afternoon, Your Majesty.”
“Would you like to join Liesel and me for lunch? We were just about to start eating when she pointed out that I forgot to send for you.”
“I’d be delighted to.”
The queen’s smile widened and she gestured for Muirigan to accompany her.
“I’m sorry I didn’t invite you sooner. My memory hasn’t been quite as sharp since this little one began growing inside of me. Will you forgive me?”
“Of course, Your Majesty. I understand.”
“Please call me Ingrid,” she insisted, absentmindedly stroking her belly. “My parents didn’t raise me to be a queen, so it still feels strange being called ‘Your Majesty.’ Liesel is in a similar position because she grew up as a slave in Schlagefilde and has only been free since Viggo’s invasion.”
The queen stopped walking to face Muirigan, taking the maid’s hand in hers and giving it a comforting squeeze.
“I say this because I want you to know that you needn’t worry about being belittled or ostracized because of where you came from. My husband was a vengeful beast, his brother was equally hateful, my closest friend was a slave, and my own sins are shamefully innumerable. No one here would ever have the gall to look down on you simply because you’re not a blue blood with a silver spoon in her mouth. We’re all equal in God’s eyes, and we will treat you accordingly. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
Muirigan gave the queen a counterfeit smile as she attempted to suppress the condemning thoughts that resurfaced. While she appreciated the queen’s humility, she couldn’t shake the criticism that came so naturally to her in the course of a single conversation. However, newfound admiration began to edge out the intimidation she felt in Ingrid’s presence.
When the two strode into the Music Room, Liesel received them with a dazzling smile. The three took their seats at an impressively arrayed table so the meal could begin. A pianist even performed a delightful concerto as their attendants served a variety of meats, bread, fruits, vegetables, pastries, and pudding.
Muirigan quietly watched as the queen and countess tried to decide which treat they should start with, but the two urged their guest to choose for herself first. Leaving the finer foods for her hosts’ enjoyment, the maid opted for a petite portion of meat and light, airy bread, which practically melted in her mouth. The trio savored their chosen delicacies and the music for several minutes, and Muirigan silently reminisced about her love of playing the fine instrument.
“Sonja, I heard that you’re going on an outing this afternoon,” Ingrid said after finishing her first bite. “Has Halvard told you what you’re doing yet?”
“No, he hasn’t.”
“Then I won’t spoil it for you,” Ingrid beamed.
Knowing Liesel would be there eased some of Muirigan’s apprehension, but her curiosity about what their activities would consist of grew.
“Viggo and I would come as well, but l tire so easily now, and I must oversee the final preparations for the ball.”
“The ball?” Muirigan repeated.
“Yes, we’ve been planning a celebration since Halvard sent word that he would be returning home, and it’s set for Saturday evening,” Ingrid said. “Don’t worry about not having a dress. I have plenty of my own for you to borrow, and I have the perfect one in mind! I had it made just before I learned I was expecting, so I’ve never worn it before.”
“Thank you. You’re too generous, Your Majesty.”
“Do you know any dances or should I arrange for someone to teach you?”
Muirigan hadn’t danced a single step in over half a decade, but she also couldn’t imagine anyone asking her to dance. Who would even glance at her with numerous young ladies from important families dressed to dazzle every eligible man in attendance? Just as she opened her mouth to decline the offer, Liesel spoke up.
“I’m having a dance lesson tomorrow afternoon, and practicing with the instructor by myself is so intimidating. Having a friend with me would make the lesson so much more bearable.”
“All right,” Muirigan consented. “What time is the lesson?”
“Three o’clock,” Liesel answered. “The instructor insists on us meeting in the ballroom to help me get acquainted with dancing there, but I will come and find you beforehand. That way we can walk over together!”
“That sounds perfect,” the maid agreed with a smile.
As the ladies’ time together progressed, Muirigan began to let her guard down. Villriket’s queen and her dearest friend were the kindest people she had ever met at court, and their warmth gradually melted her insecurities away. Slowly but surely, she even began to feel excited about the ball!
Though the other unmarried ladies at the grand affair would be vying for the single noblemen’s attention, Muirigan’s expectations were much lower. She looked forward to the simple pleasure of standing on the sidelines and drinking in the fine event’s opulence and beauty. The maid even thought of that afternoon’s meal and supper the previous night as delightful previews of Saturday night’s festive food and magnificent music!
Aside from the soft piano music wafting through the music room, Muirigan hadn’t heard anything other than the occasional guest practicing his fiddle or plucking away at a guitar since her parents were alive. Her mother’s excessive desire to fill their estate with music every day contributed to their downfall, but Muirigan’s appreciation for a violin’s bright melody and a cello’s soulful solo survived her mother’s self-destructive extravagance. In only a few days, she would have the privilege of listening to the best musicians in the kingdom without having to dread the moment they would ask for payment.
Laughter bubbled from Muirigan’s lips as she listened to Ingrid’s story about the king’s soldiers demolishing the cornucopia at their wedding in Schlagefilde before she could consume a bite. As Muirigan finished sipping on her second cup of fragrant tea, she looked past the queen and saw Halvard standing at the door with a small smile on his tanned face. For a fleeting moment, Muirigan envisioned herself spinning around the ballroom with her childhood friend, but she chastised herself without delay. Determined to evade the prince’s unflinching gaze, she intently studied the intricately painted design on her teacup.
Realizing how long he’d been staring at the mesmerizing maid, Halvard briefly turned his eyes to the pianist, shaken by his inexplicable, unshakable captivation. Thankfully, Ingrid perceived Muirigan’s sudden change in demeanor and shifted her attention to the doorway. Upon seeing her uncharacteristically flushed brother-in-law, the queen abandoned her seat to greet the prince with a hug. Liesel rose to her feet and curtsied to greet the prince, prompting Muirigan to do the same.
“Good afternoon, Halvard! Would you like to join us?”
“No thank you. My meeting with Viggo ended sooner than expected, so I thought I’d see if your two companions would be interested in venturing out early,” the prince explained, glancing at Muirigan. “Shall I return later?”
“No. Now is perfect,” Ingrid said. “I have so much to do today, and I’d like to accomplish as much as possible before my vigor leaves me. I’ll join you at supper tonight.”
Once they all exchanged good byes, Ingrid gracefully waddled away. With the queen gone, Muirigan had one less person to act as a buffer between her and the prince, whose steely blue eyes had scarcely left her face since he entered the room.
“Follow me please, ladies.”
Muirigan let Liesel lead the way as they vacated the room and accompanied Halvard on their walk down the hallway. She followed the two outside, where a midnight blue carriage trimmed in gold awaited them. Halvard stood to the side and allowed the ladies to board the coach. They elected to sit on one side together and left the opposite bench free for the prince. After the trio took their seats, their journey commenced.
“Has Liesel told you where we’re going?” Halvard asked.
“No, Your Highness.”
“Good. If my assumptions about you are right, you’ll enjoy it more than anyone.”
“I hope you didn’t go to any trouble on my account.”
“No more trouble than you went to on mine,” the prince grinned. “Although, I’m not sure if you’ll approve of the wardrobe.”
Furrowing her brow, Muirigan glanced at Liesel, but the countess gave her an equally facetious smile and turned her dark eyes to the passing countryside.
“Two other friends from court arrived before us,” he continued. “Did you meet Lord Solveig and Lady Lisbet before lunch today?”
“No, Your Highness.”
“Lord Solveig led the soldiers who fought in the west during the war in Schlagefilde. He and I have been friends since we first joined the military, and Lisbet is his younger sister. She’s probably only a few years younger than you are, so I’m sure you’ll get along.”
“Do have many friends from the military?” Muirigan asked.
The prince’s smile faltered and he leaned back, resting his arm against the top of his seat as he glanced out the window for a heartbeat.
“No, I made more enemies than anything and earned my men’s derision instead of their admiration. I also ruined several close friendships, which I pray I’ll have the chance to repair one day.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“Please don’t apologize,” he interrupted. “I need to be reminded of my past sometimes. It keeps me from getting too puffed up by pride to repeat my mistakes.”
The remaining hour of the ride passed in silence, but Muirigan’s soul buzzed with excitement as a familiar scent tickled her nose. Perking up and looking out the window, a grin spread across her face when she beheld the sea. Two bathing machines stood thirty yards apart along the shore with blue and yellow Villriketian flags flapping above the open roofs. Despite their splendor, she found the crashing waves, sparkling sand, and whirling seagulls far more mesmerizing than the royal family’s grandiose changing rooms. Halvard, on the other hand, thought the maid outshone it all.
“This is our destination?” Muirigan asked the prince.
“Yes, I hope you’re pleased.”
“I’m thrilled!”
Muirigan turned her attention back to the beach and Halvard watched her excitement with a small smile, his eyes never leaving the young woman who saved his life. Liesel observed the prince’s unchecked fascination and wondered how deep his enchantment went. The countess noticed an unusual softness in Halvard since his return, but she attributed his gentleness to his newfound repentance and near death experience at sea. However, she was beginning to see that a more … feminine source inspired at least some of his te
nderness.
When the carriage came to a stop, Muirigan suppressed the urge to bound out of the carriage and run for the surf. Instead she waited for Halvard and Liesel to vacate the vehicle first. When Muirigan exited the coach, she gasped upon feeling a hand on hers. Looking to her right, the maid saw that Halvard was helping her to the ground. Her heart fluttered as their eyes met, but a cultured voice cut through the air and stole the pair’s attention.
“Thank heavens you’re here, Your Highness,” a beaming brunette welcomed, dropping into a graceful curtsy the instant the prince looked at her. “Solveig and I were bored stiff without you.”
“Good afternoon, Lisbet,” Halvard said with a slight bow. “Where is your brother?”
“Right here!”
A young man slightly older than Halvard strutted out of the men’s bathing machine holding a blue and white-stripped swimsuit.
“It’s good to see you, old friend! Who have you brought with you?”
“This is Lady Liesel Achterberg, Countess of Vakrevet, and Miss Sonja Voigt,” Halvard introduced. “Sonja rescued me when my ship wrecked, so I invited her to live at court.”
Lisbet’s onyx eyes moved from Halvard to Muirigan, who she made a quick study of. Though her head to toe assessment only lasted the space of a single breath, the maid noticed the way her smile froze and her eyes narrowed during her inspection. Lifting her chin, Lisbet turned her attention back to Halvard with a flutter of her eyelashes.
“I’m happy you brought some ladies for me to chat with while you talk about the war, but are you all right? Being in a shipwreck must have been so terrifying!”
“Yes, I’m fine, but ten of my men are still recovering.”
Lisbet drew her dark brows together and placed her hand on Halvard’s arm.
“I’m sorry, Hal.”
A sharp pain shot through Muirigan’s chest when Lisbet called Halvard by the nickname she once used. Were the prince and lady more than casual acquaintances brought together by sharing a connection with Solveig? The way Lisbet ran her gloved hand over his arm and batted her eyelashes told Muirigan that the girl was smitten with him. Whether she admired Halvard for his deep set blue eyes, sculpted bone structure, and lush brown locks or his title and fortune, Lisbet herself was lovely, wealthy, and of noble blood. She also mastered the art of flirting, and Muirigan knew from regular observation that men loved having their egos stroked by pretty women.
