The Piano Girl - Part Two (Counterfeit Princess Series) Read online

  “Heat up some more for her, Rhoda,” Eunice said.

  The disappearance of one spot gave me hope. I sat down in front of The Beast and played “Sunrise,” an old, familiar tune. The beautiful melody reminded me of the sun rising on a new day. I put my heart and fingers into the chords and added some of my own imagination as to what “hope” should sound like. I simply lost myself.

  After the piece ended, I sat for a moment, embarrassed by my departure. Setting my hands in my lap, I glanced over my shoulder. Above the table, Walter held Eunice’s hand.

  “Breakfast, Dory,” Rhoda bellowed from the kitchen.

  Reality turned my stomach. I rose from the bench to face my awful fate.

  “You look as if you are trudging off to war.” Wron laughed. “Did you see her, Mother?”

  “Eating Rhoda’s soup is not intended to be the spectator sport that you like to make it, and poor Dory is already so self-conscious.”

  Despite his mother’s admonition, Wron sat across from me at the breakfast table. My future husband enjoyed a good laugh.

  “I look forward to when you are sick, and we get to watch you eat a bowlful,” I said.

  “You look forward to when I am sick?” Grinning, he shook his head. “Those are not kind sentiments.” Elbows on the table, he watched me force each spoonful down. Several times, when I gripped the table to swallow, he threw his head back and laughed. Needa laughed with him, clutching onto his ear as she sat on his shoulder. Even Rhoda would stop her chopping to stand beside the table and watch me.

  “I haven’t laughed this hard in months.” Wron patted the table.

  “You are cruel,” I said.

  He smiled, and I could tell that he liked that I held my ground with him.

  I scooped up every last drop of the torturous soup and set my dish near the sink. “There is something I need to speak with your father about. It’s very pressing.”

  Wron’s brows lifted. “He is in the Great Hall.”

  ΦΦΦ

  Wron followed me into the Great Hall, where I found his father seated in one of the goatskin chairs by the fire. I bowed low before the king. “Your Highness… I petition thee.”

  “Stand up, girl.” He closed the book he’d been reading and laid it on the side table. “What is it?”

  I rose to my feet, clutching my hands in front of me. “On behalf of the men in prison, I would—”

  “Do you mean prisoners?” Walter’s white brows gathered.

  “Yes, it is regarding the prisoners’ meals.” I pressed forward. “They are forced to work beyond what they are receiving in nourishment. They are weak and susceptible to sickness. During the week that I was in prison, we ate dribbly porridge and stale bread. The men are being starved.”

  With his head slightly tilted, Walter stared at me.

  “Someday, Your Highness, they will be Yonder citizens again, and when they are released they will be full of contempt for you—Food is a great mediator.”

  “Are you full of contempt for me, Dory?” Walter eyed me curiously.

  “No.” I shook my head. “Though there was great deprivation, I found the experience beneficial to my soul.”

  “Father, may I interrupt?” Wron stood near the table.

  Walter held a hand up toward Wron and then, lowering his chin, addressed me. “What do you propose I do?”

  I took my time, weighing my answer. “If the men could have a noon meal that contained protein and fruits or vegetables with color—a decent meal, King Walter, it would boost prison morale.”

  “Is that not an oxymoron?” he asked.

  “They are still your countrymen, past, present, and future,” I said.

  Walter smiled. “While I appreciate your passion for what is right, I also need to inform you that Wron has already brought the dire situation to my attention.”

  “After my visit”—Wron edged closer—“and seeing Knot’s condition, the men are now receiving two hot meals a day.”

  Not fully grasping the enormity of what he’d said, I stared at him.

  “I did not recognize Knot, and for most of my childhood, he’d been like a father to me. Unfortunately, we put too much trust in one man.”

  “Duron is now serving time in prison,” Walter said. “For a week, he is only receiving dribbly porridge and stale bread.”

  Retribution.

  “I cannot tell you how relieved I am.” Hearing that Knot and the rest of the men were receiving proper nourishment was salve to my soul.

  “After dinner this evening,” Walter voiced, “I want you and Rhoda to personally deliver our men a protein-packed meal. Wron”—he looked up at his son—“inform the woman who is presently in charge that she has the evening off.” Walter turned to address me. “Any future ideas either of you have, I would like you to first speak with me. I do not want them to become spoiled, but reformed.”

  “Thank you, Your Highness.” I rose to my feet and returned to the kitchen to tell Rhoda.

  ΦΦΦ

  That evening, Rhoda and I dished out five meals; each included sliced mutton, steamed baby carrots, a buttermilk biscuit, a square of crumb cake, and a glass of goat’s milk. Rhoda assisted me by carrying down one of the large trays.

  I passed Knot’s meal through the narrow rectangular opening in the bars.

  “It’s not Christmas for five months,” he murmured. Taking the plate, he proceeded to the corner of his cell.

  “King Ulrich has passed a new addendum. Each day there will be a protein-rich meal.”

  “God bless you, Dory and Rhoda.” A pale light gleamed in Knot’s eyes.

  “And Prince Wron and King Walter,” I added.

  He nodded, stuffing a slice of mutton into his mouth.

  And so it was with each meal that we passed between the bars: the prisoners said, “God bless you.”

  When Rhoda and I ascended the stairs, I did not worry about why the men in prison were there or what their crime was. I cared only that my fellowmen were fed, for I knew that hunger brought about discouragement and discouragement a defeated mind.

  ΦΦΦ

  I felt melancholy as I sat at the Great Beast that evening. Eunice joined me on the bench, as she did from time to time. She requested “The Ballad of Blue Sky,” and after I played my country’s national anthem, Eunice touched my arm.

  “You have made the waiting easier. Each day feels like a year for Wron right now.” She glanced over her shoulder at the men seated near the fire. “As soon as my husband saw baby Alia, he wanted her for Wron. He said she was the most beautiful little thing. Not to mention the deal that he and King Wells made,” she whispered, shaking her head. “It was a big deal.”

  Rhoda brought Needa to sit in the Queen’s lap. In between songs, Needa jumped from Eunice’s lap to mine and ran sure-footedly up my arm, clutching onto the material of my cambric shirt along the way. She plopped down on my shoulder and, without a word, set her hand behind my neck to steady herself.

  “The thought never occurred to me before that we could have a live-in pianist,” Eunice said. “We should have done it years ago. Imagine waiting only for parties to have music.”

  I recalled the metal-on-metal sound as the cell door swung closed behind me. Duron had simply turned the key in the lock and walked away. If for some reason I didn’t marry Wron, I might easily become a slave of the household, as Needa, for life.

  “Do you know the ‘Troll’s Tune’?” Needa whispered in my ear.

  “No, can you sing it?”

  “Yes.” She cleared her teeny throat. “Hidden in the bracken, hidden underfoot, a gnome is known to whistle as he goes about the woods.” Needa’s wee voice cracked. “A troll’s foot is set before thee, wider than a tree, in one step you’ve lost your freedom, now another’s dainty.” The light tune had quickly turned dark. “Can you play that?”

  “I will try.”

  I started with one finger before adding chords. The little tune became lovely under my fingertips. Needa sat v
ery still on my shoulder before she sniffled, brushing tears onto my neck.

  “I used to have a music box that played that tune. I listened to it every day before I was taken away from my”—Needa looked at Eunice—“beloved Evland.”

  Chapter Five

  For lunch the following day, another bowl of cabbage soup waited for me on the table in the alcove. Wron did not join us this time. I was relieved. Healing was not always a delicious process.

  “Tomorrow your spots will be half-gone, because you will have had twice as much soup,” Rhoda said.

  “I fear that I will die of hunger. Pretend to look out the window long enough that I might steal some mutton off your plate.”

  “Cabbage and water alone will cleanse you.” Rhoda stuffed the last morsel of mutton into her mouth.

  “Cabbage and water alone will make me want to steal my gun from Prince Wron’s cabinet to shoot chukar in the field.”

  “I love chukar.” Rhoda sighed and set her large elbows on the table. “My brother used to hunt in the fields when I was a child. Chukar is fit for a king.”

  “Sometime when Prince Wron is gone, I will shoot chukar for our dinner.” I beamed. “I need to find his gun cabinet first.”

  “When you get your gun, get me. We will escape to Evland together,” Needa said, swinging her feet back and forth beneath her gnome-sized table.

  Rhoda waved a finger at me. “You will soon feel like family here. But you must obey.”

  “Sometime when Prince Wron is seated, I will slide the keys to his gun cabinet out of his pocket.” Needa kept her voice low. “When you are ready to escape to Evland with me, I will do my part.”

  “Remember prison, Dory.” Rhoda’s enormous eyes pleaded. “Next time, you will stay longer.”

  Wide-eyed, I watched the verbal tennis match between the two.

  “Aren’t I the cleverest centerpiece, ladies?” Needa lifted her mini pink teapot and glanced toward the doorway.

  “What is this talk of Evland?” Beneath her morning powder, Eunice’s face was a deep pink.

  Needa poured herself a cup of mint tea and daintily bent her pinkie finger as she lifted the cup from its saucer. “Prince Wron has given me many treasures that I will not be able to replace.” Needa laid her hand to one side of her nose. “When we escape to Evland, Dory, you must give me time to pack.”

  Was she trying to get me in trouble?

  “Neither of you must talk of escaping or Evland ever again,” Eunice said.

  “I have my own little place; all that’s missing is a husband.” Needa slid off her chair and crossed the wooden table to stand in front of my glass of pear juice. “I want to show you my house.” The gnome tilted her head slightly. The apples of her cheeks bunched as she suppressed a smile.

  “You have never shown me your house,” Rhoda said.

  “You are too big. With a little budging, Dory will be able to squeeze inside.”

  “I am not hurt. I would be claustrophobic.”

  In the kitchen, there was a small blue door that Needa often went in and out of. “Don’t eat another thing.” Needa set a finger in front of her lips. “We’ll go now before Queen Eunice requests music.”

  “I am right here, Needa. I can hear everything you say.” Eunice rolled her eyes.

  I picked Needa up, carried her into the kitchen, and set her down in front of the knee-high door. For a better view, I crouched down on my hands and knees.

  “You’re really going to do it?” Eunice said, behind me.

  “I would get stuck,” Rhoda said.

  Needa stood inside waving at me. With a twist of my shoulders, I was able to pop inside. The problem was my hips. I had a small waist, but ample hips. I floundered like a fish on the floor before I flopped my way through the doorway.

  Once I was inside, Needa closed the door. “You are my first visitor. See all of my beautiful things.” She hurried to a miniature kitchen hutch and lifted down a blue-and-white platter. “Bone china.” She held an exquisite platter in front of my eyes.

  “Very beautiful,” I said. On my side, my hip was flush with the ceiling. The room was too crowded for me to turn around in. I thought of Rhoda’s word, claustrophobic.

  “Prince Wron found this for me on one of his travels.” Needa held up a gnome-sized copper teakettle. “It is just like one my grandmother had. And have you ever seen such a beautiful settee?” She pointed to a Needa-sized red velvet sofa.

  “You do have Prince Wron’s affection.” Was there enough oxygen in the room for me?

  “Yes, but I need a man my own size.” Needa twisted the tail of her blonde braid. “When we escape to Evland, I will find a man and bring him back here. Or are you coming back?”

  To hush her, I held my forefinger in front of my lips. “We are not to talk about Evland.”

  “At least not very loud.” She pointed up. “When he designed this room, Prince Wron put in a fresh air vent. If the ladies are still near this end of the kitchen, they may hear our voices.”

  I looked up through the vent and could only see the kitchen’s stone ceiling.

  “We are not to talk about Evland, but we can whisper.” Needa set her forefinger in front of her lips. “We will soon be needed with Prince Wron’s wedding—you at the piano and me at the wedding cake table. I am always in charge of the mints. We should leave today or tomorrow.”

  “It feels too quiet,” I whispered.

  “Tonight, before you play piano, set me in Prince Wron’s lap. I will slide the keys from his pocket. Hide your gun in your room, and I’ll return his keys before he realizes they are missing.”

  I shook my head. Someone in the kitchen coughed. “Your home is lovely, Needa,” I said in my normal tone. “I need to return to the kitchen now. Can you open the door for me? I’m afraid I must leave feetfirst.”

  “Next time you will stay for tea.” Needa started for the door.

  Making sure my skirt stayed in a ladylike manner, I slowly wiggled my feet out first. For a moment, I thought I was stuck before I was able to maneuver my hips out the small door. After this major accomplishment, someone took a firm hold of my feet and pulled me out the rest of the way. Thank heaven, it was only Rhoda.

  The Queen was still in the kitchen, her face beet red. “I heard everything you talked about. Neither of you are going to Evland!”

  Needa stood in the doorway of her very small house. Bunching her mouth, she stuck out her tongue at Eunice before pulling the door closed behind her.

  Eunice sighed. “What do I do, Rhoda? She is behaving like an insolent little brat.”

  Rhoda pulled down a large pot from the overhead supply and loudly set it on the stove. Next, she took a large butcher knife and a head of cabbage and began chopping. “I am making cabbage stew. Both Needa and Dory need to eat my soup for dinner.”

  “Needa’s lonely,” I said. “And she longs for a husband. She worries that soon she will be too old to have children.” I sighed deeply for emphasis.

  “Dory, if you don’t stop looking from other people’s perspectives so much, you’ll easily become one of those grossly unremarkable do-gooders,” Eunice said.

  Rhoda stopped chopping, and her massive shoulders sagged. “Dory is right. For eleven years, all Needa has talked about is finding a man her own size.”

  Despite her cabbage soup, I loved Rhoda. Would Eunice never listen?

  ΦΦΦ

  After a lovely gooseberry trifle that evening, a loud marching noise echoed down the corridor toward the Great Hall, where royalty were gathered.

  “Dory, stay at the piano.” Eunice rose from the bench.

  Roger, accompanied by three other guards, entered the room. “A caravan has arrived,” Roger announced. “A large crowd has gathered near the gates for the princess of Blue Sky.”

  “Escort only the princess and her royal family. Have at least ten guards in attendance,” Prince Wron said from where he was seated by the fire. “And have our men surround her remaining entourage.”
>
  Wron, accompanied by his mother and father, strolled out onto the terrace. I followed and paused near Eunice’s side. In the distance, near the gatehouse, half a dozen men in gray uniforms lowered a carriage to the ground.

  “What do you think?” Wron glanced over at me.

  “The Blue Sky uniforms are a dark blue for battle and royal blue with white for home. I do not know the color they’ll wear. But to have carried her for such a long journey is… very ambitious.” I suppressed a smile.

  “Why?” Eunice lifted up her eyeglasses.

  “Swamp Valley, for one, unless, that is, they took the other route.”

  “What do you think, Wron?” his mother asked.

  “You know what I think, Mother.” He chuckled under his breath.

  “He likes to interview them, to see how devious they are.” Eunice turned and with very large eyes peered through the eyeglasses at my pox. “Play ‘Blue Sky’ when they enter, Dory. See if they recognize it.”

  “Everyone, take your places.” Wron headed back inside to take his seat by the fire. “When you are done playing, Dory, you may turn around. You will ask pertinent questions. At some point this evening, you will tell us whether or not she is Princess Alia.”

  “I will know upon seeing her.”

  “Yes, but if it is not Alia, it will be interesting to see how devious they are.” Wron glanced at his mother.

  “As you know, Wron, I can also identify the princess,” Walter said.

  “Such close examination may not be needed, Father.”

  They were referring to the birthmark tucked well beneath my chin. Due to my pox, I could not presently reveal the mark, even if my life depended on it.

  I played “The Ballad of Blue Sky,” my country’s national anthem, while the counterfeits arrived. Though I longed to turn around, observe, and eavesdrop on their conversation, I focused on the last refrain.

  At last I rose and bowed slightly to my audience before lifting my eyes.

  A middle-aged couple were seated on the couch. They appeared quite dignified in appearance and wore the finest of clothes. An exquisite young woman sat in the chair near the fire. Her red hair, styled in a high bun, reminded me very much of my mother’s before she’d turned gray. Something about her was very familiar.