The Prisoner of Silverwood Castle

by Marie Treanor

  Curiously, I no longer seemed to care as much as I should have. That evening, I even took my place behind Augusta as her one last lady-in-waiting, and tried to remember how hard this was for her.

  We gathered first in the large antechamber to the banqueting hall. Since we’d deliberately left it until the last minute, we were just in time to hear Colonel Friedrich make a toast. “To our true and rightful duke, Kasimir of Silberwald!”

  Everyone raised their glasses, and then came a boisterous cheer from some of the younger men. As I was about to move aside, I caught sight of two familiar figures.

  “Dr. Alcuin!” I exclaimed. “Frau Alcuin! How are you?”

  “Ah, Lady Guin!” The good doctor beamed and bowed unnecessarily low.

  “You remember us,” Frau Alcuin said so fervently that I suspected sarcasm until I looked into her grateful face.

  But there was no time for more just then, because the young duke had jumped onto a chair, apparently to make a toast of his own, for he held his champagne glass high until his guests politely quietened.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, I have many toasts of my own to propose—so many that it would take us all night and a terrifying number of bottles if I were to attempt them all! For now, let me make just two. First, to the good people of Silberwald, whom I am honoured to serve.”

  There was a general if slightly baffled muttering of “People of Silberwald,” and hasty sipping.

  “And lastly for now, of all the people who helped me claim the dukedom—and they are many and honoured!—I wish to single out one lady in particular.”

  I couldn’t help looking at her, Princess Maria, so beautiful and regal, like the finest china doll as she stood beside her father, a faint smile on her adoring lips. Pain twisted through my stomach as I wondered exactly how she’d helped him.

  Kasimir said, “Lady Guin Harvey, without whom I would still be rotting in my cell.” My jaw dropped. And even though I hadn’t known he’d even noticed my arrival, he looked straight over the top of his gawping guests and smiled into my eyes as he raised his glass.

  My whole being seemed to melt. I was only held together by sheer embarrassment as everyone shouted, “Lady Guin!”

  And then it was over. Kasimir jumped down, and I hastily turned my back on him to discover Augusta scowling at me.

  “What in God’s name did he mean by that?” she demanded.

  Fortunately, I didn’t have to answer, for Angelika von Jurgensdorf had materialized by my side, smiling as though genuinely pleased to see me. “I didn’t even know you were here!” she exclaimed, and then, becoming aware of Augusta, she curtseyed. “I’m so glad to find you both well,” she said civilly.

  From the corner of my eye, I saw Kasimir and Maria and her father making their way towards us, and manoeuvred Angelika to one side to avoid their path.

  “I’m glad to see you too,” I said. “I don’t recognise many others from Duke Leopold’s court.”

  “I was only ever a hanger-on,” she said deprecatingly. “So I was surprised to be asked. But you have been having adventures without me!”

  “I have,” I agreed. I didn’t want to talk about them, or even think about them, right now, so I hastily changed the subject. “Angelika, why were you so keen for a position with my sister?”

  Angelika sighed. “Because it’s all I’m fit for. I am a widow with lands mortgaged to the hilt and my money about to run out entirely. And I have three sons who all need to be educated. Venal, isn’t it?”

  “It’s life,” I said ruefully. I was leaving the country. The least I could do was give what help I was able to one who’d been a friend to me, whatever Augusta thought. I could at least speak to Kasimir for her. If he was grateful to me, he might give my friend a position with his duchess. “Listen, let me—”

  I broke off as, much to my astonishment, the prospective duchess herself appeared at my elbow and actually took my arm as if we were old friends.

  “Lady Guin,” Princess Maria said fondly, quite ignoring Angelika to draw me with her. “I want you to know that, like the duke, I am so grateful for all you’ve done.”

  I frowned, glancing back to see Angelika talking now to Bernhard von Gerritzen and Patrick. Beyond them, Kasimir was with Maria’s father, the prince, and Augusta.

  “There’s no need,” I said flatly.

  “Oh, I think there is. If you had not helped to free him, I would not have met him.” She smiled dazzlingly. “And now that I have, you will want to go home.”

  I blinked. “I will?”

  Her china eyes were like ice. “To avoid the unpleasantness.”

  She was actually warning me off. I laughed. “Too late,” I said contemptuously, and walked away, leaving her to understand from that what she would.

  * * * * *

  The duke led his guests into dinner with Princess Maria on his arm. The prince escorted Augusta, which I thought a kind touch on Kasimir’s part. To my surprise, I was paired with Colonel Friedrich, who sat next to Maria, almost at the top of the table.

  “A little different from the last time we dined together,” Friedrich said humorously. “I can see now why you asked me about prisoners. I wish you’d told me more.”

  “I thought I was seeing ghosts,” I said lightly. “I wish you’d told me who you were looking for in the Blue Lamp! We might have made things a lot easier for ourselves.”

  Across the table, Augusta and the prince were conversing amiably about nothing. I supposed they were trying desperately to avoid the subject of her husband, although more than once the prince spoke beyond her to Kasimir, offering help and advice as he found his feet. I wished I knew more about Karraden, for its ruler seemed an odd choice for the duke’s first foreign visitor.

  But then I had to remind myself it was not my business. I threw myself into conversation with Friedrich as well as I could and prayed for the evening to end. I would not look at Kasimir; I couldn’t. Even when a tiny voice whispered in my mind that if Maria thought me a big enough threat to warn off, then it was a good thing.

  Of course, it wasn’t. I’d told Kasimir he should do what was best for himself and his country. If this was it, I shouldn’t even try to stand in his way.

  In Maria’s way.

  God help me, I didn’t want him with such a woman. She’d make him miserable and lonely and wouldn’t care for him. She’d hate his eccentricities and never understand about his talking to the dead…

  “Fight for him,” Barbara had said. I had no idea how to begin doing that, and I had to know I was doing the right thing for the right reasons. More than once, I caught myself touching my hair, about to yank it from its pins in frustration.

  On the third such occasion, I lowered my hands to my cutlery once more and realized I’d been staring without seeing at a black-coated servant with a white cloth over his arm and a wine bottle in his hand. He looked vaguely familiar to me, as most of the servants should and did by this stage, but what appeared odd to me was the untidiness of his coat.

  As he made his way across the room to the duke at the head of the table, I frowned in an effort of memory. Balding, mean-eyed, like…like Leopold, his master. He’d been Leopold’s valet.

  Unease twisted through me. I’d dismissed no servants on anyone’s behalf but now I thought of it, I couldn’t recall seeing him since Leopold’s arrest. In the beginning, I’d assumed he must have gone with his master to Rundberg. What was he doing here, serving wine? A come-down from his previous position. Perhaps it was all he could get in difficult circumstances.

  He stopped at the head of the table, between Kasimir and the prince of Karraden, both of whom ignored him as was right and proper. Much farther down the table, a chair scraped back amidst a tinkle of glass on crockery, and I glanced to my other side to see Barbara on her feet, staring straight at Kasimir and Leopold’s old valet. Barbara, who sensed emotion, an
d death.

  The man’s name exploded into my mind. Mann. And with that came another memory. Baroness von Gratz saying quietly to Leopold, “Have man keep a closer eye on Dieter.” Not a man. Mann, Leopold’s valet. Dieter’s overseer.

  I stumbled to my own feet, pointing at Leopold’s servant and crying, “You!”

  The valet jerked his head up, clearly rattled, and then, abruptly, he fell to the floor, his arm twisted on the table in Kasimir’s grip. I thought Kasimir must have kicked his legs from under him.

  The wine spilled out across the table like blood; something clattered to the floor. And the whole room seemed to spring into action.

  “Guards!” Friedrich yelled, bolting around the table to where Kasimir still held the valet pinned. The duke looked incongruously, almost unnaturally calm, watching as Friedrich lifted a wicked-looking dagger from the floor. A tide of gasps and shocked Ohs swirled around the table. Several men, particularly younger ones, ran to help—including Bernhard von Gerritzen. Somewhere, I was pleased by that, though most of me still trembled with shock. I sat down again with a bump.

  The valet was yanked to his feet and delivered into the grip of two burly soldiers. But his forearm was still in Kasimir’s hold, and the eyes of the two men seemed locked together.

  “Where is Dieter?” Kasimir asked.

  Although I’d only ever seen Dieter in the tower with him, Kasimir had frequently referred to them. They let him into the fresh air, they forced him to drink. With a jolt, I realized Mann had been one of the men holding me the night the baroness had forced her vile potion down my throat.

  “Where is Dieter?” Kasimir repeated.

  “Fled,” the valet spat. Saliva trickled from the corner of his mouth; venom glittered in his muddy eyes. “Damnable coward! I wish you’d killed him when you had the chance. You’re too weak! Pathetic! How dare you sit there? How dare you take his place? You! I know what you are! Mad, savage animal! No prince, no duke!”

  Kasimir sighed and released the man’s arm. “You’d better take him to his master,” he said carelessly.

  * * * * *

  Despite the almost disastrous interruption, the torture of the meal ended with several polite toasts to the duke, and from the duke to Princess Maria and her father. But the evening only moved on to fresh agony, as we were invited into the large drawing room next to the dining room. I hovered near the open French windows since the evening was warm and the fresh air felt pleasant on my hot face.

  On the other side of the room, I was uneasily aware of Kasimir talking to Barbara and Patrick. It was odd, I reflected—I had to reflect on something—but although Barbara never wore extravagant gowns and seemed, in fact, to alternate the same three, she always looked supremely elegant. Dark, beautiful, untouchable. And yet she was not like that at all. She was deeply kind and passionate, and her emotions, like her love for Patrick, were turbulent and profound,

  I refused to look at Kasimir directly. In any case, there would be no point. I knew he wore his new, social, ducal face, from which I could read nothing. But I was aware exactly when he moved on to talk to the group of men and women by the sofa. Patrick strolled away, circulating among the chattering guests, no doubt collecting views and information for his next article. I suspected it must have grown by now into several.

  Barbara sat down beside me on the window seat. “I spoke to him. Kasimir.”

  Her tone held such significance that I stared at her, appalled, no doubt with my mouth open.

  “Not about you,” Barbara said, frowning with impatience. “I just mean we were close enough for me to…sense him properly, and I think I know now what your beast in the tower is.”

  My breath caught. “What?” I risked a glance around the room. Kasimir was by the piano, gallantly setting down the stool for Princess Maria to sit. She was, presumably, going to dazzle the company in general and Kasimir in particular with her accomplishments.

  With an effort, I squashed my spurt of ill-nature and concentrated on what Barbara was telling me.

  “I think it’s part of him,” she said in a rush. “Kasimir. I was sure I recognized him when we encountered it, and I was right. I told you about the pockets of emotion that gather and develop rudimentary, soulless sentience. Well, I think this thing you call the beast has formed from all the unbearable, negative emotions Kasimir experienced in his years imprisoned in that room. It’s vicious, needy, angry, full of hate and aggression and pain. And he, Kasimir, isn’t.”

  While the princess played the piano and sang in a gentle voice that reached all the right notes, I thought about Barbara’s bizarre theory.

  She said, “You saw the way he dealt with that assassin at dinner. Almost unnaturally calm. Because his hate and anger are with the beast.”

  I suppose it shows how strange things had become in Silberwald that I could see nothing wrong in her conclusion. After all, I had sensed something subtly different about him when he came back from Rundberg. “How do we get rid of it?” I asked, as if it were just another problem to be solved.

  Distractedly, Barbara pleated the fabric of her dress in her lap. “I don’t think we can. I can’t reason with it as I could with a real spirit, encourage it to move on. I believe it will dissipate with time and exposure to more positive emotions. She plays like an automaton, and positions her hands badly.”

  I blinked at Barbara’s sudden tangent, but disdained to comment. During my own music lessons, I’d rarely played the notes in front of me, preferring to improvise than memorise. Reading the music had been too difficult.

  I returned my attention to Barbara. “Isn’t it dangerous?” I asked, remembering my struggles against the unseen force of the beast. I shivered. It was getting stronger too, to judge from my second encounter.

  “Not to ordinary people,” Barbara said. “And at least it’s trapped as Kasimir was. It wants you because Kasimir did when it was forming, so you just need to stay away from there. No one else should even feel it unless they are sensitive like me.” She glanced at me and took a deep breath. “And Kasimir. He mustn’t go near it.”

  “Did you warn him?” I asked. Augusta was bearing down upon me purposefully. I hoped she wished to retire and that I could escape with her.

  “I thought it might come better from you,” Barbara said.

  “No, you didn’t. You’re the one who understands these things, can explain them properly.”

  “Very well. I’m trying to kill two birds with one stone. You need to talk to him, Guin. And here is your sister, so I’ll leave you for now. Highness,” she added to Augusta as she passed on.

  “I think she’s encroaching,” Augusta said haughtily, taking Barbara’s place.

  “We used her as an unpaid nurse for several days,” I said dryly. “I rather think it’s we who have encroached!”

  Polite applause was greeting Maria’s performance. Someone, her doting father, I thought, although I didn’t look, was talking her into a second song.

  Augusta sniffed.

  “What’s the matter?” I asked with resignation.

  She narrowed her eyes at me. “I want to know exactly how you helped depose my husband and spoil my life.”

  I was ready for her this time. I looked directly into her eyes. “Really? I would like to know exactly why you lied to me and tried to pretend an entire two weeks of my life hadn’t happened. Was it your husband’s plan to drive me mad too? Or just declare me overwrought and send me home? Did you even ask him why?”

  Rare colour flooded into Augusta’s face, but I was in no mood to be kind. “I still believe I did the right thing. Did you?”

  It was an excellent exit line, especially in conjunction with the resumption of Maria’s perfect voice, and I immediately rose from the window seat and swept away. Unfortunately, in my self-righteousness I hadn’t been paying attention to Kasimir’s movements, and I almost crashed into him.
/>
  His hand closed around my elbow to steady me. Electricity thrilled through me. I immediately stepped back with a muttered apology.

  He said, “Is that the gown you wore when I danced with you?”

  Surprised, I could only nod.

  “I’m glad,” he said. His intense blue gaze was steady, far too serious for the trivial conversation. “You’re avoiding me.”

  I nodded again. “Yes.”

  “Because of my last promise to you?”

  “Next time, I’ll be inside you. I’ll make you scream. All night.” Blood rushed through my body into my face, but I forced myself to hold his gaze. “No.”

  “Walk with me,” he said. “Away from here.”

  “During Princess Maria’s song?”

  “They’ve had enough of my time.”

  “And now it’s my turn?” I almost spat. “Should I be grateful?”

  His eyes searched mine. “No, but I had hoped you’d want to at least talk to me. Have fun with me.”

  I met his gaze defiantly. “In your bed?”

  “Oh yes, at some point. But I just want to…” He seemed to search for the word, while I, finally becoming aware of more than my own hurts and fears, realized the all but unbearable tension in him. His whole body, his every movement was taut with it. He’d been playing a difficult part, where one mistake could mean actual disaster for him and his people; he was constantly watched, with no time to relax or, probably, anyone to be himself with. A lump formed in my throat.

  “Play,” I said.

  He smiled, and his shoulders seemed to drop by an inch. “Yes. I want to play. Will you come? Talk to me. Play with me.”

  I cast a quick glance around the room. Most people were watching us, including the prince of Karraden.

  “Not here.”

  “After this. You know where.”

  My heart was beating so fast that it took a moment for me to realize he meant the old tower. “Oh no, you can’t go there,” I blurted. “That’s one of the things I need to talk to you about.”