“I think I pretty much have that every time I sing in court, no?” I sent him a meaningful glance. I mean come on, who else is going to be singing songs from the 21st century?
“If Isabelle performs similarly to the way she did the other night, I believe there is no way she can lose,” the prince added. I flashed him a smile.
“Perhaps,” Leonard allowed, “but there may be something else.”
Like what? Was he hiding an electric guitar and amps? Because if he were, that’d be fantastic. Maybe a microphone? Or even my Mac with Garageband would do. Dream on, Izzy. Both Charles and I looked on expectantly.
“You,” he clarified, pointing to the prince.
“Me?” he asked incredulously. “Me what? Oh no…,” he protested as light dawned in his eyes. “You can’t be serious, Leonardo.”
“I have heard you sing, your Highness. It is a possibility, no?”
I looked back and forth from one to the other; one elderly face with a long white beard and a look of pure mischievous excitement on his face, the other young, and, for lack of a better adjective, yummy, with a look of utter astonishment and disbelief. In fact, was that, is he...blushing? I had to suppress the irresistible urge to laugh out loud.
I looked at the prince, hands on my hips. “Wait a second. You can sing?!” I imagined Prince Charles dressed in a GQ suit, a la Adam Levine, crooning into a microphone and it was all I could do to keep standing on my suddenly weak knees. “But…” I picked up my skirts and started pacing on the grass as I thought. “You asked me to teach you, all those weeks ago, in the garden? Why would you ask me to teach you if you already knew how to sing?” I wondered out loud. I glanced at Charles and noticed the same kind of gleam in his eyes that Leonardo had just had.
Sheepisly, he explained, “Well, a man has to try anything he can to manufacture ways to be in a certain lady’s company.” I stopped, crossed my arms, and gave him the “oh really” look.
“So you really can sing?” I asked in all seriousness.
“Oh, he can sing,” answered Leonardo, rather gleefully, in a singsong voice of his own. The prince threw him a glaring look.
“My dear Leonardo, carrying a tune and actual singing are two very different things. I can do the first. The latter would need some work. So you see, my ask for help in that area was genuine. Although I’ll admit to, ah, rather different motives.”
“Hmmm. Let me think.” I responded. I tried to ignore that last part, even though it sent a little thrill straight to my heart. I paced thoughtfully, feeling the wonderful coolness of the grass on my bare feet again. This could work. This could be really cool. A duet with the prince? Maybe make it a surprise as Leonardo suggested, which would mean even keeping it from the girls. But wait, what if he sounds awful? “OK, there’s no way around it,” I decided as I stopped pacing. “I need to hear you sing.”
“Oh, very well,” he sighed. He did a quick look around to make sure we were still alone. Then he began to sing in a beautiful tenor voice, unsure at first. He seemed encouraged when he saw my jaw hit the ground.
How in the world did he know this Ed Sheeran-Taylor Swift song? How? I moved to stand in front of him, looked at his face, and harmonized with him, this song that made me realize that my life would never be the same. We sang the last note together and stood there like we were frozen in time. Neither one of us wanted to break the spell, but my curiosity was killing me.
“How did you…?” I whispered. “That song.” I couldn’t even utter a complete sentence. He stepped forward and bent down, touching his forehead to mine while twining my hands in his at our sides.
“That first night,” he revealed, “You sang it when I showed you the music room. It haunted my dreams. The words, your voice, your eyes, your name. I went away and could still hear you, see you in my mind. I wrote the poem down, over and over. I knew the moment you stepped into my life...I knew, everything truly had changed.” He kissed my forehead and eased me into his arms, my head on his shoulders.
I knew he was right. Everything had changed. My life, my world, my very existence was wrapped up in his and I knew that in the near future I was going to have to make a very difficult choice. One I didn’t want to even think about.
“It looks as though we may have scared off our good friend,” he said as he turned his head toward the garden. I turned to look with him and had to chuckle. Probably more PDA than the old guy could handle. Something fluttering on the table caught my eye.
“I think he left us a note,” I pointed to the table. We walked over to see what it was. Sure enough, he’d left one of the pages he’d been working on, four rocks holding the parchment down on the table. I gasped at what I saw. I reached out, wanting to touch it, but not wanting to mess it up. It was so beautiful, I was actually moved to tears. I could feel them as they filled my eyes, threatened to spill over my cheeks. I looked up at the prince and attempted to blink them back. He looked down, smiled at me, and wiped away a tear with his thumb. He bent to kiss me.
Fluttering on the table beside us sat a beautiful sketch of the two of us together; me sitting in his lap, hair flowing down my back, my face tipped up to his, hand on his cheek, and him looking down into my eyes. Even in the quick sketch, you could tell those eyes were filled with love. Scrawled along the bottom of the page was Leonardo’s self-satisfied note.
“The element of surprise.” - Leonardo
Chapter 17
I looked around at the faces in the circle of firelight in my room. It was crazy how contented I felt considering I hadn’t had a shower in months, didn’t have a teeth-whitening routine, hadn’t had a pedi or a mani or seen my friends or family, and didn’t know if I ever would again. Yet, I could honestly look at the faces in my room right now and say that I had never been happier. These girls; who sat around wrapped in blankets in a circle in my room, whispering and laughing together, had become such a part of my life.
Just moments before, we had sneaked down to the kitchens together to see what we could steal away for our little party. Genevieve, of all people, walked right up to the scullery maid on duty whose charge it was to keep the fire going through the night. She was very young and obviously terrified of Genevieve. Well, actually, we were all a little scared of Genevieve. Though I had to hand it to her, she started telling the young girl about her terrible cramps, and how her menses were making her so sick.
Oh gosh, we were trying to hold it together in the hallway. It was so funny. The poor maid, eyes as big as saucers, dipped a curtsy and asked how she could be of assistance. Genevieve grabbed the table with one arm and her abdomen with the other, groaning and faking pains. She gestured to us to sneak in while she occupied the maid. Nicole and I tiptoed in, grabbed a basket, and filled it with breads, pastries, and dried cakes. We filched some cheeses and passed a jug of wine back to Chantal in the hallway. When Nicole accidentally knocked a goblet on its side, we ducked, just as we heard Genevieve groan very loudly once more and ask the maid for a cool towel she could put on her aching head. The maid turned toward the jug of water on the sideboard and we slipped out of the room, crouching together in the hall as we awaited Genevieve. She stumbled out, thanking the maid profusely for the cool towel and willow bark. Then we were off and running up the steps back to my room. We were a gaggle of girls in white billowing dressing gowns and robes, floating through the hallways of the castle, probably looking every bit like the ghosts that surely haunted these very halls.
We’d run into my room and thrown ourselves on the blankets we’d left around the fire. We laughed hysterically and set up our contraband goods.
“I have never been so scared in my life!” Fleur exclaimed, patting at her heart and laughing at her own fear.
I closed the door and threw the latch, the last one in. “Genevieve,” I declared, “You could be an actress on the stage. That was fantastic.”
She waved her hand away, playing down her part. “Nonsense,” she countered, “there is no such thing as women on the stage. Wh
at a scandal that would be.” Yet, I could have sworn I saw a look of longing flicker across her face. Poor Genevieve. I wondered how much better life would be for her in the 21st century. For all of them, really.
We wrapped up in our blankets and snuggled together, munched on cakes and told stories. Louise and Chantal took turns braiding each other’s hair. Nicole and I put Fleur’s up in strips of rags so it would fall in beautiful ringlets in the morning. It was almost as I’d imagined an all-girls sleepover. I didn’t really have experience with them, just with Anne. We’d do each other’s nails and whisper about boys, then watch some sappy chick flick. This little party might be devoid of nail polish and chick flicks, but the talk of boys was just the same.
“Did you see the nobles from Provence?” Louise queried as she put the finishing touches on Chantal’s braids. “Sooooo handsome!” she sighed, falling back on one of the many cushions we’d piled together on the floor.
Genevieve objected, “Yes, however, their accents leave something to be desired.” She still had “snob” down to a T.
“Who cares how they sound?” Nicole rolled her eyes and swatted Genevieve, and all the girls started to giggle again.
Every day, more and more people entered the valley for the festivities and set up camps all around the castle. Tents in the 16th century were quite the elaborate affair. They were huge, and nobles brought with them every luxury: rugs, beds, furniture, maids, servants. It was nothing like camping out at a three-day music festival in the 21st century. Not that I’d been to one. But I’d seen pictures. Anyway, each tent flew colorful banners with amazing crests that signified who they were and from whence they hailed. Check me out with my 16th century vocab! It was pretty cool actually, seeing the tents. I thought about how much my parents would have loved this experience.
It was increasingly difficult for the girls to focus on learning new songs., especially after they’d been strolling around the grounds. Everywhere,there were men stripped to the waist, practicing sword fighting for upcoming competitions, and gaggles of girls gawking at them. Not that I blamed them. Every time I saw the prince practicing, I couldn’t help but stare.
Swordplay looked like a beautiful dance. The men were extremely light on their feet. Their upper body strength was evident in the way they wielded their swords. You would have thought the swords weighed nothing with the way they held them and swung them around, but no. Charles let me try with his. To his great satisfaction and bark of laughter, I nearly fell head over heels just trying to hold it straight out in front of me. I didn’t really care, though. Did I mention he had his shirt off? Sighhh. Alright, alright. I’ll admit I was distracted too. Way too distracted.
Needless to say, we all needed to get our heads on straight and get excited about our own competition. Hence the impromptu slumber party in my room tonight. That, and the fact that I didn’t like sleeping alone anymore. I was becoming super paranoid from the threats. I thought maybe they’d cease with so much going on around the castle, like maybe the person would lose interest. No, they kept coming, and growing increasingly sinister. I shook my head to get it out of my mind.
“OK ladies!” I called, breaking into their who’s-hot-and-who’s-not talk. “We have music to think about. Remember? That’s why we’re here?”
“Yeah, so you can win and marry Charles,” Genevieve griped sourly.
“Actually,” I replied, eager to tell them the news I’d waited until tonight to share,. “I spoke to the queen earlier today, while you were all outside sighing over half naked bodies.” I winked at them and watched Fleur turn a bright shade of red. “I asked her if each of us could be judged separately somehow. I told her I didn’t feel that it was quite fair to single just one of us out, regardless of whether or not they deemed me the court musician.” I could see I had their attention now. Their wheels were spinning.
“But wait,” Nicole said, confusion in her voice, “why would you do that? Do not you want to marry the prince?”
“Um,” I stammered, “I guess? Actually, I don’t really know. All I do know is that I don’t want the queen of Spain to marry him!” They all nodded in agreement. Also, I thought, I’m only sixteen! Why would I be thinking about marriage? But I couldn’t say that, recognizing that marriage was the exact reason they were here at court. I felt the familiar pain in my heart, knowing that in the end, I would have to give Charles up to someone else. Better one of these girls that I knew and loved than someone I didn’t. “Each of you is very talented in your own right and deserves to have a chance.” I looked at Genevieve then, and saw that her eyes were about as big as saucers. I’m not sure if she actually believed me.
“So,” Chantal asked, “what did the queen say?”
“Well,” I continued, “she asked how I thought this should be done. So I told her they should choose a random panel of judges shortly before the competition; people they trust, but who won’t be swayed to favor any one person or group. Perhaps they could choose even townspeople, or farmers. I suggested that they have a point system, and give points to each performer. The points could be based on whatever their Majesties see fit, like choice of song, use of musical instruments, voice...anything they want. Of course, the king and queen would also be judges. Then the points would be tallied up, and the highest number of points would win.”
“She agreed to this?” asked Louise incredulously.
“Well, she said she would take it into consideration and discuss it with the king.” I admitted. “But she also said that she was impressed with the idea. She thanked me for coming to her with it and promised she and the king would devise a way to make it fair for all the ladies involved.”
Fleur jumped up and threw her arms around me. “You are the most kind and generous person I have ever known!” she gushed.
“That was,” Genevieve started, then hesitated. “That really was very kind.” Though she said it like it pained her to do so.
“Well I think you’re crazy,” Nicole said, flipping her braids over her shoulder. “But no matter. What do you have in mind for us to sing? Something incredible I hope!
“That’s exactly what I’ve been thinking about. How can we make our performance the best?” I answered.
“Well,” Fleur started tentatively, “I do not think anyone has ever heard a musician of your caliber, Izzy. I think…” She stopped, looking pensive. “Actually, I have been thinking that perhaps the king and queen know you will win and it is a way to keep them from having to marry their son off to Spain.”
“Possibly,” I nodded, “but I doubt very much that they want their son to marry a lowly musician. That’s why including all of you in the competition makes more sense. I think we have proved together how very talented you all are. Plus, I believe your families have higher connections in the realm. Anyway,” I continued, waving my hand like all that didn’t really matter. “I do think we can win this thing together, and then it will be down to one of us here in this room.” I looked around the room, and everyone seemed to be nodding in agreement.
“However,” I went on, “we are going to need to step up our game. The music is no problem, I can figure that out. Nicole, do you think you could get Madame Odette to help us with some special dresses?” I asked. I was thinking we needed some costuming for the songs I had in mind.
“Oooh, yes!” Nicole clapped her hands and bounced up on her knees. “What are you thinking?”
“I’ll answer that momentarily,” I replied, while snatching a chunk of bread and cheese off the tray we’d filched. Oh, how I’d miss that cheese when I left. “Louise, can you hand me that parchment over there?” She was near my desk and could just reach the page I’d been sketching on. I spread it out in front of me and invited everyone to take a closer look.
“OK, this,” I pointed to the rude sketch of a stage I’d drawn, “is the stage I’ve asked to be made for the competition. I think if we want to stand out, in addition to our matching dresses, we need to ‘set our stage’ as they say, or add decoration
to help tell our story. Now this is what I want it to look like.” I indicated the drawings of foliage and lights. We discussed how to make the stage look more forest-like. I tried to describe fairy lights without actually mentioning electricity. Not so easy to do. But Genevieve understood and shared the idea to hang candles in apothecary jars.
“Great idea, Genevieve!” I exclaimed. “That’s exactly what we need. We want it to look magical.”
“Magical!” Fleur gasped. “But magic is evil.” Her eyes were wide with fright just at the thought of doing magic.
“Not that kind of magic,” I reassured her. “This is more like, like,” How do I explain “magical” to someone who only relates magic to witches? “...more like a dream. Magical like that. Does that make sense?” She nodded, hopefully a bit more mollified. Geez, the last thing I needed was to be accused of being a witch.
We talked and planned late into the night. I sang them a few songs I had been contemplating, and we came up with ideas for costumes and stage props. It was a wonderful night, surrounded by friends. I slept better that night than I had in a long time. In part, because there was no new threat that night. No dead creatures or terrorizing notes. By now I suspected it was one of the girls, someone who didn’t want me close to the prince. I hoped that in spending more time with them like this, I might be able to figure out who it was. I mean, Genevieve had been the number-one suspect from the start. She for sure didn’t like me. She always seemed to come upon us whenever I was with the prince, like she knew when we were together. Albeit I don’t think she’d ever caught us in an embrace or anything like that. And more recently, she’d been a lot more friendly. Ack! I was no Nancy Drew, I’ll tell you that much. Maybe it wasn’t even one of them. Maybe it was a maid or something. Who knew? I wish I did.
Chapter 18
The next day, I had to leave the festivities early. My head ached while watching the jousting matches. Our late “girls night in” was clearly taking its toll. Oh, how I missed caffeine! Also, I never realized how loud the pounding of horses hooves could be as they charged each other, or the amount of dust they kicked up in their wake, let alone the clang of metal hitting metal when the riders made contact with each other. Throw all these things together and you have the perfect recipe for an ensuing migraine. The prince had already won his match, so I thought it would be a good time to slip away and find Leonardo. He’d given me an urgent message that morning to come find him as soon as I possibly could. I tugged on Nicole’s sleeve to let her know I was going, gesturing to my head.
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