by Connie Glynn
They were informed by a muscular woman, who introduced herself as Edwina, that the trial would take place the next morning, and that they should rest for the night. Lottie had no idea what she meant by that, but the word ‘trial’ made her shudder.
Lottie was given her own room in the left wing of the palace with a view of the vast gardens.
Ellie quickly joined Lottie, but Jamie kept himself scarce once they were safely in the palace walls.
‘I didn’t know places like this really existed.’ Lottie couldn’t conceal the wonder in her voice as she tiptoed around the guest room, absorbing every amazing detail of the lavish space. ‘I can’t believe how beautiful everything is.’
The vanity table had a collection of designer perfumes in gorgeous bottles that Lottie lined up to admire. Lottie had assumed that Rosewood Hall would be the height of her luxury experience, but if Rosewood was magnificent then Maradova was otherworldly. It was a very welcome distraction from the trial, whatever that would be, the next day.
‘I always found it too excessive,’ Ellie replied. As if on cue, the door swung open and in came a red-headed maid with a tray piled high with far too much food for two people.
‘Please enjoy your dinner, Princess,’ said the maid, curtseying respectfully.
‘Thank you, Hanna, but please don’t call me that.’
‘Of course, Princess.’ Ellie gave the maid a devilish smile and they both laughed before she exited the room, leaving them on their own. They sat on the bed to eat, but Lottie found herself too anxious to enjoy the food.
‘It feels weird hearing you called princess,’ she said at last.
Ellie had been very quiet since they’d arrived at the palace, clearly lost in thought.
‘It feels weird to me too,’ she said honestly.
Lottie watched Ellie as she distractedly piled bread and cheese into her mouth, her gaze distant and worried. She didn’t like seeing Ellie like this; the palace obviously had a negative effect on her. Lottie wanted nothing more than to wrap her up and save her from her princess duties. But how?
Lottie was awoken in her soft bed the next morning by the same maid who’d brought them food the night before. She entered Lottie’s room with a tray of tea and traditional Maravish pastries that reminded her of baklava and tasted heavenly. Without Lottie’s knowledge, her clothes had been cleaned and pressed for her and laid out conveniently on the dresser. The same maid then offered to run her a bubble bath, which she enthusiastically accepted. She sat in the circular tub in her en suite for an extra-long time, wanting to prolong the luxurious experience as long as possible before coming back to reality and the looming trial. She sank her head under the warm water, squeezed her eyes shut and pretended for a moment that she really was a princess and this really was her home.
At 10 a.m. she was collected by an unassuming maid who took her into a plush living space in which Jamie and Ellie were waiting.
Jamie immediately began prepping her, and the enchantment she’d felt quickly crumbled as she came hurtling back to reality.
‘When we are allowed entry into the throne room you will stand unless told otherwise. You will avoid eye contact unless told otherwise. And, above anything else, you will be silent unless told otherwise.’
Lottie nodded at these instructions, feeling more out of place than she’d ever felt in her life and desperately trying to be as accommodating as possible.
Jamie was pacing slowly back and forth in front of a large gold-framed mirror on the wall as if addressing an army regiment. Ellie was slumped on a gold-embroidered sofa, her boots carelessly kicking the fabric.
‘Jamie, you need to relax. You always act like the world is ending and it’s always fine.’
Jamie let out an exasperated breath from his nose and turned to face Ellie. ‘Ellie, this isn’t about things being fine. This is the single most significant action you’ve ever made regarding your future.’ Jamie’s tone was sombre, yet Ellie reacted by grinning.
‘I know, this is the best plan I’ve ever had!’ There was excitement in Ellie’s voice that annoyed Lottie. She suddenly had the horrible feeling she was a chess piece in someone else’s game.
‘Umm,’ Lottie began, and Jamie swiftly turned his head towards her, making her jump, but she found the courage to continue. ‘If this is all so significant, can you please tell me what the trial is exactly?’
There was a short pause where they both looked at her as if remembering she were in the room.
‘No!’ was their simultaneous response.
‘Well, can you at least tell me what to expect?’
Jamie raised an eyebrow, a strand of his slightly messy hair falling in front of his eyes.
‘Expect the absolute worst,’ he said flatly.
Lottie gulped.
‘Ha!’ Ellie stood up and patted Lottie on the head. Lottie usually quite liked the gesture but in this scenario she felt patronized. ‘You’re going to meet my parents, and they’re going to love you.’
Jamie quite literally growled at this. ‘You …’ he started, but quickly took a deep breath to calm himself. ‘You need to take this seriously, Ellie. This is not like before.’
Her face distorted into a furious mask of indignation. ‘It’s. Going. To. Be. Fine.’
‘Ellie, you don’t understand. They’re really serious.’ His tone was almost pleading and it made Lottie flinch. She wondered how many times Jamie found himself in situations like this, trying – and failing – to help Ellie.
‘No, Jamie, you don’t understand. Mum and Dad make everything seem like a huge deal but it’s always fine in the end, and this time isn’t going to be any different.’
‘Ellie, this is different, I promise. They’ve –’ he faltered for a moment, then looked back into Ellie’s eyes – ‘they’ve brought your grandmother.’
Lottie almost snickered at this as it seemed like such an anti-climax, but the horrified look on Ellie’s face made her think better of it. Her eyes began darting around very quickly as if she were thinking really fast.
‘Lottie, listen to me. I need you to –’
Before Ellie could finish the door swung open.
The red-haired maid curtsied. ‘They will see you in the main hall now, Princess.’
‘Hanna, please, I told you not to call me that,’ Ellie said, jokingly rolling her eyes. She smiled at the girl and the maid giggled discreetly in response, still not looking up. Lottie could hardly believe that Ellie could behave so normally considering the tension in the room just seconds before Hanna had entered.
‘Thank you, Hanna.’ Jamie smiled charmingly at her, showing no sign of stress.
‘Ellie, I need to what?’ Lottie whispered, so Hanna wouldn’t hear. ‘You can’t start saying something, then walk out. Tell me what you need me to do!’
Ellie turned back to her with a big smile on her face that seemed painfully forced. ‘There’s no time left.’
19
The large oak doors creaked open. Light flooded out of the throne room, bathing them in a bright white stream that caused Lottie to catch her breath and cover her eyes. As soon as she’d adjusted to the strange lighting, she had to stop herself from gasping at the storybook scene in front of her.
The room seemed to glow from within. Intricate patterns were etched into the white walls and above them. Peering down was a scene of strange mythical monsters and beasts, surrounding a crystal chandelier that reflected the light in little delicate dots like snow.
In the middle of the room sat Ellie’s father, the king of Maradova. There was a distinct family resemblance in their dark eyes, but his hair was light and immaculately cut around his sharp features. The back of the throne on which he sat towered over his already tall frame in a way that made it seem part of him. He gazed at the three teenagers in turn and gave a single terse nod to Jamie, which he returned straight-faced.
A thin old woman sat to the right of him, mounds and mounds of long silver hair lavishly layered on top of her head.
It did not take much deductive skill to figure out she was Ellie’s grandmother. Her chair had a dark blue cushion with little gold tassels propped up to support her and in her right hand she held a magnificent cane topped with a solid gold wolf head. The way her hand gripped the cane suggested nothing of frailty but rather control, demanding respect and submission. Her eyes locked with Lottie’s and for a split second Lottie felt a chill run through her. The Evil Witch, Lottie thought involuntarily; there was something undeniably terrifying about her.
On the king’s left, standing with his hands clasped behind his back, was a tall man with what appeared to be a glass eye. He smiled at each of them, his eyes lingering on Lottie for a little longer than she felt comfortable with.
‘Her Highness Princess Eleanor Prudence Wolfson …’ started the glass-eyed man.
What am I doing here? Lottie thought to herself. I don’t belong here.
‘You have requested an official audience with the king to enact Act Six. Official enquiries into the suitability and benefit of this request have begun. The counterargument is …’ He cleared his throat before continuing. ‘The counterargument,’ he repeated, ‘is that the princess has, to quote the queen mother, “continually disappointed on all previous arrangements without exception”.’
Lottie thought back to Ellie telling her how she’d sneaked out before – and how naturally she could deceive.
Ellie’s grandmother banged her cane on the marble floor once and let out a little laugh that sounded more like a cackle.
‘Disappointed?’ There was a sharpness in her voice that made Lottie flinch. ‘I think that is not quite the term I used. That would suggest we had any hope for you in the first place, dear Eleanor.’
Neither Jamie nor Ellie reacted.
The king rubbed his forehead and sighed in frustration. ‘Duly noted, Mother.’ It became instantly apparent to Lottie that the king wanted to be there about as much as Lottie did. ‘Very well. Begin the enquiry.’
The glass-eyed man cleared his throat again. ‘Miss Charlotte Edith Pumpkin …’ he began.
‘Pumpkin?’ spat the old woman. ‘What a peculiar name.’ Her voice was taut as she said the word ‘peculiar’, as if she were really saying ‘what a completely ridiculous name’.
Lottie looked down at the glowing floor, trying her hardest to hide her embarrassment and also her growing sense of fear. The king cleared his throat before gesturing to the man to continue.
‘Miss Charlotte Pumpkin, born Charlotte Edith Curran –’ Lottie took in a sharp breath at having this information read aloud and turned to see Ellie chewing her bottom lip nervously. Jamie’s face remained blank – ‘Year Ten at Rosewood Hall, rooming with Eleanor, of no notable nobility, lived in St Ives, Cornwall, with her stepmother, Beady Curran, until September when she moved to permanent boarding at Rosewood. Mother passed away five years ago from leukaemia, father works as a …’
The list seemed endless and, although she was fully clothed, she’d never felt more naked in her life. Why was this happening? Why was this necessary? She felt sick. She felt dizzy. These were all parts of herself she wanted to hide from, and now strangers were picking at her life as if she were a specimen in a biology class. She suddenly felt very angry with Ellie. She wished she’d been warned. She wished she knew why any of this was required. She wished she knew anything at all.
‘Enough!’
‘OK, we get it.’
Ellie and Jamie had simultaneously come to her rescue.
Maybe Jamie wasn’t so bad …
The king looked surprisingly sympathetic.
‘Skip to the end,’ he said bluntly. The glass-eyed man cleared his throat once again and Lottie slowly unclenched her fists, which had balled up at her sides.
‘In the top two per cent of most of her classes, excluding sports and maths, currently the second-highest achiever in English literature and history.’
Jamie’s blank mask slipped as he looked at Lottie, as if checking people were aware she was the same girl they were talking about, but there was a humour in his smirk that threw her back to their first meeting.
‘One of only twenty-two students in the history of Rosewood to be offered the exceptional-circumstances bursary and it seems she was personally chosen by Professor Devine to join Ivy House.’
Lottie felt her heart hammering wildly and was sure they must be able to see it under her shirt. They knew information about her that even she didn’t know. She was a hard worker, everyone knew that; she prided herself on it, and she wanted to be great and do great things, but to have her past shoved in her face followed by having her achievements read out among royalty – achievements she hadn’t even known about – somehow it made her feel … humiliated.
Was Jamie questioning the legitimacy of these accomplishments? Why would it be funny that a girl so ordinary could push herself so hard?
‘Quite the diligent little worker it would seem,’ the king said with a dry smile.
Lottie was about to burst into tears right then and there on the marble floor.
Be brave, be brave, be brave, she repeated to herself.
‘Ellie, you shame us.’ The king’s tone was cold. ‘If even this girl, under her circumstances, can push herself to achieve such feats, then you, a future queen, have no reason to deny yourself similar accomplishments.’ His eyes drifted over Jamie and a look like regret flashed on his face but was gone too quickly for Lottie to register completely. ‘You forget how fortunate you are.’ Ellie looked as if she were about to speak but the king held up his hand. ‘You were allowed to attend Rosewood under the agreement that you would keep your identity secret with no exceptions. An agreement that you would acclimatize to school rules without the pressure of your royal obligations. You have failed on both these counts.’
The king’s face seemed almost pained as he said these words. It was clear to her that he truly must have hoped Rosewood would be the right choice for Ellie. Ellie’s grandmother continued to sit stony-faced at his side.
Ellie’s expression was still hard, determined not to let anything show, but Lottie could see the strain in her eyes: the misty look of someone desperately trying not to cry.
This is my fault, thought Lottie.
All at once her anxiety for her own fate dissipated as she realized what was really at stake here. Ellie opened her mouth to protest, but before she could get any words out something rang in the back of Lottie’s mind. The voice of Professor Devine.
The fates have placed Miss Wolf in a room with you, so you must look out for her.
Was this it? Was this her calling to Rosewood? Had her drive to become exceptional been entirely designed to bring her and Ellie together? That thought was comforting and suddenly she didn’t feel so afraid.
‘She’s going to join the fencing team,’ Lottie stated matter-of-factly.
The whole hall turned to stare at her like a pack of wolves. Jamie looked completely horrified and mouthed the word ‘Don’t’, but Lottie swallowed hard and continued.
‘That is, with all due respect, you’re wrong about her not acclimatizing to school life. She’s been invited personally by Dame Bolter herself, an Olympic gold medallist, to join the fencing team. She also helps others excel: she helps me with my maths homework, she’s improved my grades in sports, she studies for fun with the smartest girl in school, and she even gives Anastacia Alcroft a run for her money in lacrosse. She belongs at Rosewood and I will do anything to keep her there.’
Lottie paused and blinked, completely thrown by her own words.
‘Anything, Miss Pumpkin?’ The words came from a twinkling little voice behind her.
Lottie turned to see a petite blonde woman with porcelain skin and eyes so icy-blue they almost froze her on the spot. She was smiling ever so slightly, but her eyes shone with a clear sense of cunning. Although she was small in size, this woman gave off an edge that suggested she was most certainly not to be taken lightly.
Lottie hesitated for only a moment. �
��Yes,’ she said emphatically.
‘Quite.’ The woman’s smile widened and she took a small step from the edge of the room towards Lottie. ‘Would you even sign your life over to the Maravish royal family?’
Wait, what? And that was the moment everything went completely mad.
20
‘Absolutely not!’ cried Ellie’s grandmother, her face screwed up in a furious mask of indignation. ‘This is out of the question!’
The blonde woman seemed entirely unaffected by this outburst and simply waved her hand, as if dismissing the statement.
Grandmother Wolfson did not appreciate this gesture and turned to the king. ‘Alexander, control your wife.’ The words came out more as a bark than a request.
That’s Ellie’s mother? Lottie turned back to stare at the wispy, ethereal blonde woman and saw almost no physical resemblance between the two, and yet … the confident way she held herself, and her piercing eyes, the bold way she had dismissed the most terrifying woman Lottie had ever met. Maybe it wasn’t so shocking after all.
The king turned to his mother then and, to Lottie’s complete and utter surprise, he looked offended.
‘Mother, may I remind you, this audience is requested for the sole purpose of an Act Six request? Or have you not been paying attention?’
Lottie almost laughed at this, even though she still had no idea what Act 6 was.
‘Oh lord,’ Ellie groaned under her breath, rubbing the bridge of her nose as if this were a regular occurrence. Jamie remained impassive, although his eyes seemed to be larger than usual.
The king turned then to Ellie’s mother and his face softened; her presence seemed to have dissipated some of the tension in the room.
So this is where she gets those mood swings from! Lottie thought to herself. These people made Ellie look normal in comparison.
