The Palace of Lost Memories

by CJ Archer

"King's orders. Apparently his life is worth it."

  I doubted the king oversaw trivialities like payments but I didn't refuse it. The money would come in very handy.

  "I have to go," he said, his gaze darting around the courtyard. Whenever he was outside, he always seemed on heightened alert, checking faces for unfamiliar ones, or looking out for potential trouble.

  "Good luck tonight," I said. "I hope you catch the poisoner before then."

  "I'm going to speak to Lady Deerhorn now."

  "You think she is the D Tam was referring to in his notes?"

  "It's possible. I don't expect her to admit it, but if she is the poisoner, she'll know I'm watching her closely and won't strike tonight."

  "Or it might drive her to act sooner out of desperation."

  Hammer's frown deepened. I wanted to smooth it away, perhaps even encourage a smile from him or a tender touch like the connection we'd shared in the king's bedchamber. But he looked far too serious and focused for tenderness.

  "Be sure to stay indoors, particularly at night," he told me. "Don't trust anyone."

  "Aye, aye, Captain."

  "I'm serious, Josie."

  "I don't know who the poisoner is, so my life is not in danger. But thank you for the warning," I said when he looked like he was about to argue with me. "I'll be careful."

  He walked off and I headed to the gate, only to be intercepted by Miranda. She broke away from Lady Lucia, who watched on in dismay, her hands on her hips and a scowl on her face.

  "Josie, how lovely to see you again," Miranda said. "You seem to spend more time at the palace than at home."

  I smiled. "It's far more interesting here."

  "Does that have something to do with the handsome captain of the guards?" Her gaze wandered in the direction in which Hammer had just left.

  "More to do with the king's fear of being poisoned."

  Her smile faded. "Is he all right? He sent word to me earlier that he couldn't join me for cards after lunch."

  "He'll be fine. So, you're spending a lot of time with him since your recovery?"

  She sighed. "He seems to prefer my company more than ever, even though I am the dullest of companions now."

  I eyed Lady Lucia, who'd been joined by Lord Frederick. He whispered something in her ear that made her giggle behind her hand. "I find that hard to believe," I said.

  "It's true. The other ladies have sharp wits and clever opinions, whereas I prefer to keep my own counsel, nowadays. Indeed, I hardly open my mouth at all."

  "Afraid of consuming something poisonous?"

  She tilted her head closer to mine. "Afraid of saying something that will propel me down a path I don't want to be on." She lowered her voice. "I've decided I'm not ready to marry. Unfortunately, everyone else thinks I am."

  "Including the king?"

  She sighed again.

  I nodded at Lady Lucia. "She can help you with your predicament."

  "Believe me, she's trying very hard to help. So hard, in fact, that I appear to have a new best friend. She and her brother are with me almost constantly. Between them and the king, I have to retire to my rooms to get any peace."

  The Whippler siblings approached with matching smiles of dazzlingly white teeth. "Miranda, dear," Lady Lucia said, "come along. It's time to prepare for tonight."

  "It's still early," Miranda said.

  "It's never too early to prepare oneself for the king." She made it sound like she was serving herself to him on a platter. "Come with me if you don't want to dress yet. You can watch me."

  Lord Frederick winked at Miranda. "What a privilege. Most would kill to be in your shoes."

  His sister swatted his arm playfully.

  "What will you wear tonight, Miranda?" Lord Frederick asked. "Or is that a secret?"

  "Not at all," she said. "I have a pale blue and silver gown with a high neckline and elbow length sleeves."

  "High?" Lady Lucia echoed. "That sounds very—er…safe."

  "Demure," Lord Frederick countered. "I've been trying to tell you, Lucia, the king prefers sweet, demure women. If one wanted to attract his attention, an elegant but sensible gown is the perfect choice."

  "No man prefers demure or sensible, Freddie. They only say they do. I'm going to wear something cut low to show off my best features."

  Lord Frederick's lips flattened. "The king is not like other men."

  "Of course he is. All men are the same." She waggled her fingers in a wave at Miranda then swanned off, her hips swaying.

  He watched her go then turned a bright smile onto us. His eyes danced with mischief. "She's a menace. She always does the opposite of what I say." He bowed to us and followed her.

  "I do believe he just manipulated her into wearing precisely what he wanted her to wear," Miranda said, watching them.

  I hadn't thought of it that way, but she might be right. Lord Frederick didn't want the king to be attracted to his sister, and his keener observations had led him to believe what Miranda believed—the king liked a sweet natured, quieter woman who dressed sensibly. Lady Lucia wouldn't be attracting the king's eye tonight with a low-cut gown, and her jealous brother couldn't be more pleased.

  "Perhaps I should start getting ready after all," Miranda said. "I think I need to choose a different dress. Something more daring than the silver and blue is in order."

  I smiled and she grinned back.

  "Come and help me, Josie.

  Miranda was right. The blue and silver gown was lovely. It showed off her slim waist and the flare of her breasts and hips, but it showed no flesh from the neck down. While I agreed with Lady Lucia's opinion that men, on the whole, preferred to see bare skin, it would seem Miranda and Lord Frederick held a different view of the king. He wanted his future wife to be a modest, elegant noblewoman. Miranda, in the blue and silver dress, was a perfect match.

  Miranda in the pink one was far more obvious, once we set about lowering the neckline. It didn't take long to cut away the excess fabric at her décolletage and finish it off with a row of beads to draw the eye.

  "What about jewelry?" she asked, holding the dress against her body and checking it in the mirror.

  "What would you usually wear?"

  "I have some diamond earrings that would look sweet once my hair is up."

  "Sweet is too…sweet. Wear something bigger. And a necklace, too."

  Her reflection smiled at me. "How about two necklaces?"

  "The more the better. Paint your lips a bright color too."

  "That may be more difficult. Perhaps I can borrow Lady Lucia's."

  Hilda the maid arrived with a light supper on a tray. The guard with her informed Miranda that the taster had tested it first. She thanked them and set the tray down but didn't eat.

  "Are you nervous?" I asked.

  "About the poisoner? A little." She lay the dress on the bed and eyed the food. She picked a nut off the plate. "I'm more nervous about the king's reaction. What if we've misjudged him, Josie? What if Lucia's right and he secretly likes this sort of dress? It might make him more interested, not less." She sighed and flopped back on the pillows. "I wish I could go home. Everything's so much simpler there. Here there are more intrigues than people, and friendships are formed according to political alignments. Ever since the king showed interest in me, I've felt as though the eyes of the entire court follow my every move." She patted the space beside her on the bed and I sat too. "You're lucky you get to go home."

  "There are certain benefits to living in a palace that I can see." I indicated the platter. "Someone cooks you delicious food and serves it to you."

  "I do like that part."

  "There are lovely grounds to walk around at your leisure."

  "The problem is, I have too much leisure time. There's nothing to do except walk and gossip. Some like to gamble."

  "You attend parties dressed in beautiful gowns," I said.

  "They're just trimmings, Josie. Don't envy me because of those." She hooked her arm through
mine. "And anyway, you have a lot that I envy. Chief among them is your freedom. You can choose whomever you want to marry."

  "I can now," I murmured.

  She hugged my arm. "I'm sorry. That was insensitive of me."

  I gave her a smile, determined not to let thoughts of the loss of my father dampen my spirits. I'd enjoyed helping Miranda with the dress and plotting ways to diminish the king's interest in her.

  Hilda returned with a pot of Lady Lucia's lip color. She helped Miranda dress in the pink gown and fixed her hair. Miranda insisted on wearing it in a loose, slightly messy arrangement with flowers threaded through it. I didn't think the style suited her, which was perhaps why she chose it.

  "The torches in the gardens are being lit," I said from my position by the window. "It'll look so pretty once it's completely dark."

  Miranda joined me and pointed out the path the torches made. "We've not been informed what will take place, or where, but I think we'll be led off that way through the garden. It'll smell lovely at this time of the evening."

  "It seems to lead to that bank of trees to the right of the big lake."

  "That's Lake Grand, and those trees hide a sunken garden. It's been off limits for days. I imagine there'll be some kind of performance there."

  I sighed. "It sounds wonderful. I wish I could see it."

  She smiled a slow, devilish smile. "You can." She grabbed my hand and dragged me to the bed where the blue dress still lay. She picked it up and held it against me.

  "No. Oh no, no, no. I can't," I said.

  "You can. We're the same size."

  "I'm not a noblewoman."

  "Nobody will notice. There are so many here at the palace, and we don't all know one another. Just keep your head down if you pass someone who might recognize you."

  It was a very bad idea. But sometimes, bad ideas are the most exciting and refuse to be dismissed. The dress certainly was beautiful, and the thought of seeing the festivities up close would be a sight I'd never experience again.

  "Say yes," Miranda said, pushing the dress into my arms. "I know you want to."

  I held the dress against myself and checked my reflection. It was simple yet elegant, with silver threads embroidered into the hem and down the central panel in a wave pattern. The bodice was a plain ice-blue all the way to the neck.

  "I do want to," I said, "but that doesn't mean I should. What if I'm found out?"

  "Who will find out? Everyone will be too busy watching the king and the entertainments he has planned for us."

  "But I should go home."

  She rifled through a box on the dressing table. "Don't take this the wrong way, Josie, but why should you go home?"

  She was right. It wasn't as if I needed to be home for anything or anyone. None of the expectant mothers were due soon.

  "Change in my dressing room. Hilda, where is that brooch? The crystal one shaped like a sun?"

  I changed into the dress but Miranda wouldn't let me look in the mirror until everything was complete. Hilda spent more time doing my hair than her mistress's, positioning a crystal comb at the back to complete the arrangement. Miranda pinned a matching brooch to the gown at my throat then stood back.

  "There," she said on a breath. "Lovely. You wear it better than I ever did."

  "I doubt that."

  Miranda turned me to face the mirror and I gasped. The woman in the ball gown wasn't me. It couldn't be me. I was a simple village girl who barely remembered to brush her hair in the mornings. The woman in the reflection was elegant and pretty.

  "A little color on your lips and cheeks," Miranda said. "Not as dark as the one I'll wear."

  Hilda handed me a pot of the palest coral, and Miranda positioned me in front of the mirror again. I watched her apply a vibrant shade to her own lips and copied her technique with the coral. We finished by smoothing the lightest amount on our cheeks.

  A trumpeter blasted a tune from the garden. Several others joined from positions throughout the palace, like a call to arms. The palace filled with their brassy chorus.

  "It's time, my lady," Hilda said. "If Miss Cully is to go unnoticed, she should stay here while you take the guard with you. Then she can join the others assembling downstairs."

  "Good plan." Miranda gave me another thorough inspection before announcing I was ready. "Remember, head down, and don't engage anyone you know in conversation. Avoid the guards." She gave me a brief hug. "Most of all, enjoy yourself. I'll meet you back here afterward."

  I bit my lip and nodded.

  "Don't do that to your lip," she scolded.

  I nodded again. Just as she was about to leave, I remembered I had advice for her too. "Please be careful tonight, Miranda."

  "I'll be perfectly fine. The captain is assigning two guards to me at all times. I'm not sure it's necessary, but I am grateful."

  "If the captain thinks it's necessary then it is. Don't eat or drink a thing."

  "I won't." She raced out of the room, and I followed a few minutes later.

  The guards had left with Miranda, and the corridor was empty. I descended the grand staircase behind a group of nobles. They complimented one another on their outfits and speculated on the type of festivities the king had in store for them. They were as giddy and giggly as children presented with a shop full of sweetmeats. Perhaps they were already drunk.

  There were so many ladies and gentlemen milling at the twin ponds outside that it was easy to blend in, dressed in Miranda's ball gown. Nobody paid me any mind. Even so, I quickly scanned the faces of those nearest me. I recognized none. I drew in a deep breath, but the air was filled with a cloying mix of perfumes that caught in my throat. I coughed uncontrollably, earning me a glare from those nearest.

  A footman passed with a tray of drinks and I plucked off a crystal glass. The cool wine washed away the irritant and steadied my nerves a little. They returned when I spotted Lady Violette Morgrave talking to a gentleman. I dipped my head but kept her in my line of sight. Fortunately, she did not look my way.

  The ebb and flow of conversations suddenly stopped, and a wave of whispers flowed through the crowd. "The king."

  All eyes turned to the palace, where the king stood at the top of the steps, flanked by Hammer and Max. Lady Lucia dropped into a graceful curtsy and only rose when the king bade her to. Beside her, her brother bowed, but the king only had eyes for Lady Lucia. Other ladies curtseyed too, but it was too late. Lady Lucia already occupied the king's left arm. His right remained free. He searched the faces, but not finding the one he wanted, he headed down the steps. Lady Lucia's smile widened.

  The crowd parted for them. Gentlemen bowed and the ladies curtseyed in a sea of rustling silks. The king strode slowly among them, looking comfortable and benevolent. My tisane must have worked.

  "Follow me!" the king announced. "Follow me into a magical world filled with wondrous sights. Prepare to be dazzled."

  The crowd made suitably amazed sounds and fell into step behind him. We formed a long line that snaked slowly through the partitioned gardens. Torches lit the gravel path, and thanks to the overcast sky, the darkness beyond the torches was absolute. Behind, however, the palace was brightly illuminated. Every window was ablaze with light as if it were on fire. That sight in itself amazed me.

  Our promenade continued through the vast formal gardens that I'd only ever seen from palace windows and Lookout Hill. Paths divided the garden into sections, with each section featuring a different color grouping of flowers laid out in patterns—stars, circles, diamonds. Many featured a fountain in the middle, others statues, all lit up by lanterns and torches. Footmen stood to one side with trays of more wine so that no one went without.

  But it was the dancers everyone clamored to see. Men and women dressed in fitted costumes with wings at their backs performed to music that seemed to come from all around us. They flitted through the shallow water of the fountains as lightly as butterflies, splashing themselves and each other, and occasionally sprinkling one of the
guests. Each fountain featured a different set of dancers, dancing to a different style of music, dressed in a different color. One set wore gold, one silver, another red. I'd never seen such graceful moves, such daring outfits that sparkled in the light, and was one of the last to leave each performance.

  The procession snaked its way further from the palace, drawing ever closer to the sunken garden. We passed ponds, rockeries and more gardens, drenched in light by lanterns that directed their glow to a featured statue of prancing nymphs, or the god and goddess kissing, or a golden orb on a pedestal, or yet another fountain. The crowd had grown quieter with each new sight. They spoke in hushed, expectant whispers at the turn of each corner.

  Finally we reached Lake Grand, where we paused for refreshments. Two long tables were set up on the lawn, each decorated with tall white vases overflowing with pristine white flowers. Platters were piled high with pink marzipan, and others held crystalized plums, oranges and peaches. What appeared to be yellow flowers turned out to be nuts covered in borrodi spice. The bed of green leaves in which they nestled was an edible confection that melted on my tongue and left it tingling.

  Small cakes formed pyramids at intervals along the table cloth, each one iced with a delicate touch so that it appeared to be covered in lace. Beads in pink, blue and green topped each cake. When the nobles flocked to the cakes like gulls to the fishing boats, I realized they weren't beads but gemstones. The cakes were all gone before I had the chance to take one. When the procession set off again, there was nothing left of the towers, and crumbs littered the lawn.

  With the formal gardens behind us, we traversed a path lined with shrubs and trees a little taller than me. Instead of torches to light our way, lanterns hung from boughs. Floral garlands draped between them, their sweet scent lingering in the warm, still air.

  The path opened up to a grove surrounded by trees, also lit with lanterns. The grove itself was the sunken garden Miranda had mentioned. There were no flowers in this garden, only an empty expanse of lawn. It could hardly be called a garden either, it was more like a circular theater. The tiered seating around the perimeter were covered in lawn, as was the raised dais down below. A throne of gold decorated with pink and white flowers on vines stood in the middle of the dais. It looked as if it had grown out of the lawn. A canopy of crimson velvet protected the dais. If it rained, the king and his guards would be the only dry ones.