The Spinner and the Slipper (9 page)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Mischief Making

Queen Titania stood in the pillared room, gazing into the crystal upon the mortal world. She saw the preparations at Craigbarr, making ready for the grand ball. Or grand by human standards . . . compared to the nightly festivities of King Oberon’s court, this mortal ball was like a simple peasant dance!

Her curious eye sought out the girl, the mortal miss who had so entranced the green-eyed faerie. She saw her pacing her rooms, a ball gown spread out upon her bed. Soon they would dress her up like a little doll and send her out among all the great lords and ladies of four kingdoms. Poor child! She was not meant for a life like this.

Titania watched all, various plans forming in her mind. Then with a sudden sweep of her long sleeves, she whirled about and descended the tower stair. Down, down, down she went, plunging into a still deeper stairwell leading far underground, far from all sunlight and song. She came at last to the dungeon chamber where the green-eyed man even now worked at the project she had assigned to him.

She peered between the bars of the chamber door. There he sat cross-legged, his hands hard at work, his cheeks puffed up with careful blowing. He wasn’t finished yet, but he was close. Very close indeed.

She opened the door as though the locks and bolts meant nothing—for indeed they could mean nothing to her, queen of all this realm. The green-eyed man looked up from his labors and carefully set aside the work of his hands. He rose, struggling against his chains, and offered a stiff bow.

“Leave off your work for now, good captain,” said Titania with an imperious smile. “I have a much jollier task for you tonight!”

“And what might that be, Your Majesty?” he asked with grave politeness.

Titania smiled.

“Oh, my lady!” Martha clasped her hands beneath her chin, her eyes shining. “You look positively
beautiful!
”

The team of ladies-in-waiting who worked on Eliana gave Martha sharp glares, for a mere maid should not speak in the presence of her mistress unless spoken to first. But in the last week Eliana had struck up a friendship with Martha, with whom she had much more in common than anyone else in the palace, and Martha too easily forgot her place.

Eliana, standing in the center of those fancy ladies with their fancy airs and fancy clothes, looked over their heads to meet her maid’s eye. The admiration she saw there did not give her much comfort. If anything, she felt even more nervous than she had before!

The golden gown being specially made for her was not yet ready. The seamstresses worked on it night and day, intending to have it complete for the third night of the ball. But on this, the first night, Eliana was clad in deep blue, the neck and sleeves edged in little winking crystals like stars shimmering in reflection on a lake’s rippling surface. Her long hair had been brushed and brushed until it shone, then held away from her face with a simple silver band. Eliana was relieved that she wasn’t shoved into layers of silk and veils and feathers, but even so, the richness of the cloth unnerved her, and the silver headpiece felt too much like a crown for comfort.

She could not bring herself to look in the mirror when it was brought to her, but dropped her eyes and stared at the floor instead.

“And here is your mask, Lady Gold-Spinner,” one of the ladies said, presenting Eliana with a lovely mask shaped like a crescent moon surrounded by the golden rays of the sun. When she put it on, it covered all but the corners of her mouth.

Now she felt she could dare looking into the mirror, for she was so well disguised that she did not even recognize herself. The moon-and-sun mask complimented the starry gown beautifully. She could not help a little gasp of surprised delight.

“The time has come,” said a voice in the doorway. Eliana turned and saw the housekeeper herself standing there, looking more regal in her uniform than any of the ladies-in-waiting in their finery and flounces. “Your escort is here, Lady Gold-Spinner.”

Eliana peered beyond the housekeeper and saw four men-at-arms standing in the passage. What, was she to be escorted about the place like a prisoner even now, on the night of the ball? Did they think she would run away, attempt to slip away unnoticed in such a gown?

She said nothing however. What could be the good of protesting? Instead, she gathered up her heavy skirts and passed to the door. She paused on her way to momentarily clasp Martha’s hand for a bit of friendly support. Martha gave her an encouraging smile. “Have a wonderful time, lady!” she said.

Eliana made no answer but passed through the door and into the company of the men-at-arms. Flanked on either side, she allowed herself to be led through the splendid galleries of Craigbarr, down to the glorious ballroom.

Music reached up to greet her before all else, music more gorgeous than anything she had ever before heard. That, at least, would be a real pleasure of the evening—the opportunity to hear the kingdom’s most talented musicians working their magic on various instruments.

The next moment, she came to the edge of the balcony overlooking the ballroom, and the sight struck her with such a wave of intimidation that she nearly lost the will to move! Such colors! Such movement! Such light! It was all too much, too overwhelming. The noblest lords and ladies of four kingdoms milled around below, some dancing, some talking, some partaking of delicacies from the refreshment tables. Eliana had thought her own garments rich, but now she felt poor and shabby indeed as she looked upon all the jewels and furs.

King Hendry and his queen stood partway up the stair, receiving visitors as they arrived. They wore coronets upon their heads and ermine-lined cloaks over their shoulders. Their masks were of a lion and a tiger, but they weren’t large enough masks to effectively hide the identity of either monarch.

And just beyond them stood Prince Ellis. But Eliana couldn’t get a good glimpse of him.

One of the men-at-arms coughed. Taking the hint, Eliana galvanized her limbs back into motion, allowing her escort to lead her down the stair. King Hendry turned at her approach, his mustache lifting with a smile of greeting. “Ah! Lady Gold-Spinner!”

The queen turned at her husband’s voice, and both greeted Eliana warmly. Eliana curtsied the best she knew how, feeling what a poor offering it was. Miller’s daughters were not trained in the social niceties of court, and she could tell by the way the queen blinked that she had not quite got it right.

King Hendry took her by the hand, however, and raised her to her feet. “Away with you,” he told the men-at-arms, dismissing them. “And you, dear girl, must enjoy yourself tonight,” he continued, patting Eliana’s hand. “I hope you are well recovered from your labors?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Elaina said softly. She decided not to mention the headaches which still plagued her every time she thought about those hazy three nights she’d spent with the spinning wheel.

“Good, good!” said Hendry, his smile widening. “Now continue on your way in, and be certain to make your best curtsy to Ellis as you go. He is
most
anxious to meet you and will, no doubt, beg you the honor of a dance.”

Eliana felt as though her heart would burst from between her ribs. She curtsied again to both king and queen then, clutching her skirts so hard that her fingers hurt, continued down the steps.

A cluster of people surrounded Prince Ellis, who stood on the third step of the stairway, above the rest of the crowd but lower than his parents. Eliana could just catch a glimpse of a blue mask that seemed vaguely aquatic—a sea god, perhaps? The king had commanded her to make herself known to the prince, and she did not think she could disobey so easily. The small cluster of people, seeing her approach, whispered and made way so that a path cleared itself before her. There was nothing for it! She must meet the prince.

Eliana bravely lifted her chin and started forward . . . when suddenly she found herself standing no longer on the stair but on the other side of the ballroom. Open doors stood behind her; turning her head, she looked out into cool, lush gardens. Looking ahead at the crowded ballroom, she could just see the stairway where the royal family stood.

Had she curtsied to the prince? She couldn’t quite remember but didn’t think she had. Had she even seen him? How had she come to be here? She frowned behind her mask, feeling a little faint and very uncertain of herself.

She did not see the golden-haired woman who laughed to herself and darted away among the ball guests, leaving behind no trace save for an exotic and intoxicating perfume.

Eliana decided not to try to make her way back to the stair. If Prince Ellis wished to seek her out he may, but she wasn’t obligated to attract his attention. She moved quietly among the guests on the edge of the ballroom, avoiding their curious gazes whenever they turned her way. She looked for but did not see Mistress Carlyn or her two stepsisters, though she did not doubt they had turned up in their shabby best to rub elbows with the elite.

After no more than half an hour of quietly making herself seem smaller than she was, Eliana stood once more near the garden door, longing to slip out into the coolness of the night and wander among the blooming shrubs and trees. Movement caught her eye, and she turned to see a man at least two heads taller than she was approach and bow to her. His mask shaped like several oak leaves was bronzed over.

“What is a lovely lady like you doing away from everyone else?” said he. “You should be socializing with all the young men. I hear that the prince himself is perusing the crowds tonight, seeking a proper bride.” He smiled at her.

For a moment she thought perhaps she recognized that smile. But the moment passed.

“I cannot find courage within myself,” she admitted softly, ducking her head. “Since the crowds are so pressing, it did not seem worth it.”

“I’ve just come from the depths of the throng myself,” he said, “and I am sorry to confirm that what you say is true.” He offered her something, and she realized that he had brought her a glass of sweet cider. She accepted it gratefully, and he, taking her smile as encouragement, leaned against a pillar next to her. “All of this shouting, beguiling, and dancing is enough to make one die from overstimulation.”

Eliana chuckled at this exaggeration. “But you must be used to it by now,” she said. “This is my very first ball.”

The stranger bowed his head. “Then it is a pleasure to share the experience with you. May I ask your name, my lady?”

She wondered if she should call herself Lady Gold-Spinner, as the king and the ladies-in-waiting had referred to her. But she would not officially receive the title until the third night of the ball, so perhaps she need not claim it yet. “My name is Eliana,” she said instead.

“That is a beautiful name.”

The sensation of familiarity struck her again. With it came the very faintest edge of pain around her temples. She shook this away quickly, taking a sip of cool cider. But she could not stop herself from asking, “May I ask your name in return, good sir?”

The man did not answer right away, and the smile that slowly spread across his face was not altogether happy.

Just then, a group of dancing couples stumbled a bit too far from the dancing floor, nearly bumping into the pair. The man in the oak-leaf mask quickly jumped in front of Eliana, pushing back the giddy gentry when they pressed too close. Eliana blushed deeply behind her mask, looking down into her cider glass, afraid to look anywhere else lest her eyes betray her. The oak-leaf man turned to make certain she was all right.

“I’m fine,” she answered quickly. “Just a bit startled.”

Her question was forgotten in the tumult. The oak-leaf man began to entertain her by pointing out the people of particular note milling about amid the masses. The one in the wolf mask, he told her, governed the province of Flostrin, and the fair hawk beside him was his wife—a much younger woman than her lordly husband, though the way she patted his arm seemed fond enough. They were rumored to be quite a doting pair despite the age difference, the oak-leaf man confided to Eliana.

Now the portly man laughing robustly was the Duke of Dravint, his good humor unable to be disguised even by the ferocious boar mask he wore. And that woman wearing a fox mask? She was the lovely princess of Syntorell. Rumor had it she had come tonight hoping to snare Prince Ellis for herself.

On and on the list went, from the earl in the stag mask to the baronet wearing the face of a hare. And for each one the oak-leaf man related some sort of secret quirk or fact to interest and entertain Eliana.