Aurelia (3 page)

"I'm sure you'll manage," daria said, plucking the onion from her friend's hand and returning it to the produce cart. The vendor's face fell as the lady's maid tugged the princess away.

sounds of life and death permeated the marketplace: the shouts of men in heavy aprons tossing thick trout and slapping them on scales; the pounding of butchers' knives cleaving through bone, muscle, and tissue; the complaints of animals tied up on the outskirts, baying and barking, squawking and squealing.

And through the sounds, the smells: climbing into every corner, every cart, every cloak. The rich scents of ground cinnamon and chili powder, the sickening sweetness of bricked molasses, the dusty aroma of carved oak and pressed cedar. sage and garlic, petals and powder, feathers and fur. daria pulled Aurelia past the food toward the dry goods. "I'm sure I won't manage," Aurelia said, picking up the conversation where it had left off. "How would I be able to go shopping today without your help? everyone in the city would recognize my Carnival mask if I couldn't send you to purchase it for me." daria dropped her voice, glancing back at the guards behind them. "We both know how you would get around that." she raised her voice. "The truth is you could have had the mask made in the palace if you had bothered to plan ahead."

"Not if I want it to remain a secret. some of the servants try, but not one of them can resist a good conversation. They would start hinting about the materials, and within half an hour the entire disguise would be common knowledge."

"still, you needn't have left it until the day I leave."

"Why not? I needed a chance to say good-bye. besides, I hadn't decided to participate in Carnival until last night."

daria winked, sliding two fingers along the loose end of her sash. "Convenient of robert to show up just as I'm leaving, isn't it?"

Aurelia shoved her friend good-naturedly. "It's not the same. He's just visiting."

"Well, I can think of worse classmates to have visit. He's been gone for four years. you ought to have plenty to say to each other. Imagine if your mother hadn't insisted on a school and a quality education for all the palace children. None of us might have become friends."

Aurelia did not want to talk about her mother. If her mother had really cared about children, she would not have left. she would have stayed at the palace long enough to see her daughter grow up.

"I wish your husband didn't work for Lord Lester," Aurelia told her friend. "His estate is halfway to the frontier. The man doesn't even come to court."

"Lucky for me," daria said as she stepped around a crate. "Lord Lester is notorious for refusing to attend palace events. He's certain to send another scrawled message excusing himself from the next state function. my husband will have to deliver it, and I won't be shy about joining him."

"How often can that happen?" Aurelia ducked under a basket of herbs hanging from a stall canopy.

"Already enough for Thomas and me to meet, fall in love, and marry."

"What if Thomas is promoted from courier?" Aurelia sighed. "besides, you'll have a new life, new friends, and eventually children. The last thing you'll want is to spend weeks traveling to come visit me."

"Nonsense." daria brushed away the commonsense statement. "Who wouldn't want to traverse muddy roads, fog-ridden forests, and washed-out crossings for the honor of attending a royal function?"

"Lord Lester."

"Well, perhaps Lord Lester."

Aurelia squeezed her friend in a fierce hug. "I'm not sure I can survive without you."

As they broke apart, Aurelia ran her eyes over the nearby stalls. This section of the market hummed as busily as the one the girls had just left. Vendors shook out woven blankets to display brilliant patterns. Artisans spread out cloth dolls, glass carafes, and embroidered lace. Aurelia's gaze skimmed over fine wood carvings and glazed clay.

A vendor's cart piled high with Carnival items drew her attention. painted wooden wands spilled out of a deep basket. Leather belts and colored kerchiefs hung from hooks. beaded capes, skirts, and cloaks draped over the sides, and masks filled the shelves: five rows of them. Faces of genies and gypsies, mice and magicians, frogs and fishermen.

Aurelia froze. "The mask on the cart, second row up."

"Which one?"

"guess."

Within moments, daria nodded. "I'll get it. Where am I meeting you?"

Aurelia motioned toward a quadrant of stone walls at the heart of the marketplace. Leaving her friend behind, she set out for the square. All four guards followed her, their braided uniforms and polished scabbards drawing the usual stares.

she paused outside a dressmaker's shop but did not go in. even the best dressmaker could not accept an order with less than a day to complete it. As soon as Aurelia had spotted her chosen mask, she had mentally selected a dress from the stock of unworn ball gowns and party wear cluttering up her wardrobe. At least some use would come out of the seamstresses' zealous attempts to help her attract a husband.

Her mind still focused on her costume, she stepped into an arched tunnel leading toward the center of the square. The guards suddenly pushed ahead, blocking her path. Caught by surprise, she stared past them at men, women, and children crowding the inner plaza.

A throng of shaking fists, shuffling feet, and shoving elbows filled the space. eyes flashed. Lips flared. shouts tumbled over one another like viscious dogs. The crowd's anger grew tangible, swelling and feeding itself, all directed toward the square's centerpiece--a statue of her father.

The guards pulled back as if to leave, but Aurelia refused to withdraw, her eyes glued to the statue's face. Her father gazed back at her, not with the weary look she recognized, but with the pride she imagined he must have worn in her early childhood--before her brother had died and her mother had left. she could not allow that statue to be destroyed.

A barrage of rocks and sticks flew through the air, slamming into the statue. bodies moved as if to topple it. "Wait!" Aurelia forced her way through the guards. "Talk to me. Tell me why you do this. Tell me what you want."

A hush engulfed the mob as she stepped out from under the arch. Fists fell, shoulders dropped, and mouths closed. people waited in a ring of suspended tension. she walked through that ring, stepping into the square's center and laying her hand in the enlarged carving of her father's own palm. standing in front of the populace, she could feel the weight of expectations settle on her shoulders--the people's hopes for a better future, their faith in her as a leader, her own dread that she would let them down.

"you, sir," she said to a man in a torn black vest, "why are you here?"

He rubbed a hand across the whiskers on his chin as though trying to decide whether to answer, then said, "I'm a vendor, your Highness. I run a stall in the market and make just enough coin for my family. I reckon the same is true for most of these folks." Nods scattered the crowd. "but this mornin' the king announced a new tax on every stall and cart in the marketplace."

Why had her father not told her? There had been no mention of a new tax at the last council meeting.

"I wouldn't mind if the money were goin' toward the city or likely to help my family in some way," the vendor said.

"but it isn't!" a woman shouted.

The man continued: "your father called it a market tax, but it's to pay for state functions. That means more spectacles like that fancy party held last night in your sister's honor. He's already drained the city coffers fixin' up the palace."

"And it's not like any of us will ever be invited to that monstrosity!" added the woman.

"We can't none of us afford to lose our stalls," the vendor said, "but we have a right to say how our money should be spent."

"I'll speak with my father," Aurelia told the crowd. "perhaps he does not understand how the tax will affect you."

"He
would
know," the man replied, "if we had somebody to speak our piece at the palace. As it is, we can't control our own future."

understanding flickered through Aurelia's heart. The man had a point, one far stronger than the weight of his own purse. "I'll share your concerns," she said. "you have my word. The people deserve a voice at the palace."

mumbles of approval rippled through the square.
Good,
she thought,
maybe now they will disband in peace.
A new silence descended, broken only by the rustle of a petticoat as daria stepped from the crowd and moved to her friend's side in support. Aurelia let out a slow breath.

Then a disturbance bubbled at the back of the crowd. people shifted, grumbling protests. A black cap forged its way forward, ripping a seam through the wave of bodies. Closer and closer it sped. Then a shout.

Harsh steel flared; four swords flashed. Voices raised in rekindled anger. The silence whipped into fury, and strong hands forced Aurelia to the ground.

Chapter Three

CARNIVAL

"WHAT Were YOU THINKING?" THE QUEEN'S COLD voice cut into Aurelia's heart. elise did not bother to stand or turn around to speak to her stepdaughter. Instead, icy blue eyes and a frigid stare reflected out of the vanity mirror. elise's pale neck showed bare below a tight knot of black hair, and her rigid back and shoulders remained frozen and erect against the white backdrop of the vanity table and dressing-room windows. "The guards tell me you almost caused a riot this morning."

"They almost caused the riot," Aurelia protested from the doorway. she wanted to talk to her father. she did not want to defend herself to her stepmother. "If they had not drawn their swords, daria would have recognized the boy in the crowd, and the conflict would have ended."

"What boy?" The queen picked up a jewelry box with a heart etched on the lid.

"He was just a boy wearing a black cap. daria paid his father too much for an item she purchased in the market, and the boy's father sent his son to return the money. The man needn't have bothered, but it was the honorable thing to do. except the boy got caught behind the crowd; and when it quieted, he tried to come forward to give daria the money."

"Thank heavens that girl has finally gone off with her new husband. I hope you select a more suitable lady's maid to replace her."

Aurelia's temper flared. she had missed her friend's departure because of her stepmother's summons. "daria isn't to blame. If the guards had waited, the boy would have explained himself, and there wouldn't have been a problem; but they drew their swords and set off the entire crowd. The guards are the ones who ought to be reprimanded."

"you're lucky more guards arrived when they did." elise arched her sharp eyebrows. "Or the episode could have been disastrous, not only for you, but for your father."

"Let me see him. If what the protesters said was true, they had a good argument. Father should hear about it."

"The city rabble cause enough problems without you helping them. They can't be expected to understand politics. but you, Aurelia, should have known better. your father does not have time to discuss this with you right now. He is preparing for an important guest. you may speak with him at the next council meeting." The queen removed an icicle necklace from the box. "In the meantime, you should remain within the palace."

"but tonight is Carnival!"

"Which you won't be attending." elise snapped the box shut.

You certainly won't stop me.
Aurelia whirled and stalked from the room.

Ornate tapestries and gold filigree taunted her as she moved down the hallway. It angered her to think the queen's expensive taste had damaged her father's reputation in the city. The glossy furniture, walls of embroidered cloth, and paintings on the ceilings all reflected elise's own extravagance.

At times Aurelia wished her father had never met elise. but that was not entirely fair. If Aurelia's own mother had never left, he would not have had to remarry. And then his daughter would never have had to walk the gauntlet of her stepmother's disdain. besides, elise could not be blamed for failing to love a child whose own mother had abandoned her.

At least with the king's second marriage, Aurelia had gained a sister.

A hush fell on the princesses' shared parlor as Aurelia entered the room. The bevy of melony's lady's maids rose as one from their seats and exited until only the two sisters remained.

"palace gossip must have traveled fast." Aurelia hurled herself onto the settee. "Honestly, mel, sometimes I think you should be the crown princess."

Her sister gave a soft laugh and twisted a jade bracelet on her wrist. "Without a hint of royal blood in my veins? I suspect your cousin montaine might disagree."

Aurelia groaned. "He'd probably swoop down and bury us all in war before the month was out."

"And he would win. The other kingdoms would never support a disruption undermining the line of inheritance."

"I know." Aurelia lifted a silk pillow and squeezed it to her chest. "And the truth is, I love my kingdom but you're the one with the gift for court life."

"yes, well." melony sank down beside her. "Our father is rather fond of tradition."

Aurelia gave a weak smile, then threaded her fingers through her sister's hand. "you're the only person who understands the pressure of being his daughter."

melony tapped the edge of the settee, then hopped up. "There are some advantages," she declared, swinging open the door to her sitting room. "Come out, girls!"

The flood of lady's maids swept back into the parlor. Two girls rushed to the bench at the pianoforte. Another four returned to a game board, and three crowded onto the window seat. The youngest girl, no more than eleven years old, hid behind her mistress's flowing skirts.

Anticipation shone on melony's unblemished face as she looked at her older sister. "I know you lost daria this morning, and I thought you might like to select one of my lady's maids as your new personal attendant."

Aurelia's jaw dropped.
As if I could replace Daria that easily.

Her sister seemed to read her expression and reached out to embrace her. "I know you had a terrible day today, and I want to help. Half the girls are technically assigned to you anyway."

Of course melony meant well.

Aurelia wrinkled her forehead. "I prefer a smaller entourage. I can't imagine how you keep them all busy."

"Oh, they go on missions for me." melony twirled around. "They inform the chef of my preferences for the day and check on the status of my new gowns." she dropped her voice. "They turn in papers to my instructors and invent excuses for me to avoid class. most of the time, though," she whispered in Aurelia's ear, "they carry messages back and forth to young men."

Aurelia groaned. she had no desire to command a unit of giggling adolescents. Instead, she focused on the child who had been hiding behind her sister's skirts. Wide hazel eyes overwhelmed the pale face. A spattering of pink freckles sprinkled the sharp cheekbones, and a fringe of mousy brown hair frizzed loose from its shell comb.
If I have to lose my best friend, I might as well select a lady's maid I can intimidate into leaving me alone.
"What is your name?" Aurelia asked, squatting down to the child's level.

"min-minuet."

"do you think you could come assist me, minuet?"

The girl's big eyes grew even wider, and for a moment Aurelia thought the child might run away. "y-y-yes, your Highness."

"Wonderful." Aurelia glanced up to see her sister's delighted reaction, then returned her attention to the lady's maid. "I'm in for the evening," she lied, not wanting to involve minuet in her rebellious Carnival plans. "so I won't require your help until morning. If you would like to remain here in the meantime, you are welcome to do so."

"Th-thank you, your Highness."

unencumbered, Aurelia slipped out of the parlor and hurried through her personal sitting room into her bedchamber. she grinned in the mirror as she tugged out painful hairpins. Time to dress for the night's adventure. soft waves fell past her shoulders. brown hair, brown eyes, brown skin. Nothing worth taking note of next to her sister's stunning looks; but tonight, at least, that did not matter.

removing bodice and skirt, Aurelia ducked her head into the depths of her closet. Her fingertips, rather than her eyes, recognized the feathery material, and she pulled the dress from the darkness. soft fabric flowed out into the light. blackish brown bars speckled a white background.

Aurelia lifted the dress over her head and slid her arms through the narrow straps. The skirt fluttered down over her petticoat, and the bodice settled into place. she buttoned the front from the waist to the low neckline and tied the slender cord around her middle. Leaving her throat bare, she slipped her feet into gold slippers with hard soles, then brushed out her tangled hair until it lay smooth. she covered her gown with a dark blue cloak and tugged open the bureau's bottom drawer.

The mask lay threateningly inside, begging her to put it on in defiance of her stepmother's order.
I'm going out tonight and this disguise is going to allow me to swoop right out the front gate.
Aurelia scooped up the mask and gazed at it for a moment before hiding it under the folds of her cloak. At least one other person would appreciate her choice.

robert laughed at his cousin's costume.

Chris sat perched on the sitting-room stool not ten feet away, his legs curled around the stool legs, his eyes locked on the door to the hall. The intensity on his face and the awkward position itself were funny, but Chris's costume made the entire scene ridiculous. White feathers covered his tunic, and a draping fan of red, white, and green feathers sprouted below his lower back. He wore tight white trousers above stockings stuffed in orange boots, and his rooster mask with its three-inch red comb hung below his neck.

"Can you crow?" robert teased.

"Cockadoodledoo!" His cousin scooped up a velvet cushion from uncle Henry's rattan chair and flung it.

The velvet object spiraled through the air. robert ducked. It bounced off the settee on which he was sitting, skimmed over the cherrywood stand, and slowed to a halt beside a porcelain vase on top of a table. The vessel rocked back and forth on the veneered surface before settling into place.

eyeing the vase, Chris suggested, "Let's go over the second assassination attempt."

robert's face sobered. "did it involve poison as well?"

"No, a saddle. Aurelia had to cancel a ride at the last minute. she left her saddle on her mare, and one of the grooms took the horse out for exercise. A strap ripped right along the seam. The groom came off in the middle of a run and broke his collarbone. According to daria's father, the saddle must have been tampered with."

"The groom was riding sidesaddle?"

"Aurelia only rides sidesaddle under duress." Chris chuckled. "It was a regular saddle."

"may I see it?"

Chris ran a thumb over the edge of a feather on his shirt. "you may if you can look at it without drawing Aurelia's attention."

"she still has it?"

"The servants couldn't take it from her without explaining what went wrong. Instead, they had it repaired and hung it back up as if it had never been damaged."

discomfort crawled along robert's shoulders. How could he keep Aurelia safe if she remained unaware of the danger? He stood up, paced to the back of the room, and turned around. "They should tell her what's going on."

"They can't." Chris hopped off his stool. "And neither can you. The king is adamant about that. He doesn't want his daughter frightened. That's why uncle Henry arranged for an undertaker to secretly pick up the body of the meal taster last night. The king did not want Aurelia asking questions."

robert's head swam. "How am I going to stay close to her if I can't tell her why I'm here?"

"you're not her bodyguard. you can't protect her that way. you have to be free to investigate."

robert shuddered. His father's voice echoed in his mind.
You have to start with the victim. The key lies there if you can--

knocking interrupted the thought. Chris lunged for the latch, and Aurelia stepped in, closing the door behind her.

she slipped off her cloak and put on her mask. dark eyes shone within gold circles, each ring surrounded by an almond-shaped outline of deeper gold. White feathers arched back over her hairline, and a hooked beak curved from the bridge of her nose down to a fine tip just over the rounded base of her chin. The top of the beak glistened gold as well, then blended into shimmering silver.

robert's face crinkled with approval. "A falcon," he said. "I always told you the nickname fit."

"And why is that?" she asked.

"because you tend to attack an opponent with swiftness and ferocity." He swept her a comic bow, then stepped closer, running his gaze over her entire outfit. she stood nearly as tall as he did, the top of her mask reaching his forehead. "my lady," he said, taking her hand in his white-gloved one, "clearly we shall have to work hard to remain your escorts this night."

Aurelia scrutinized her companions' costumes. "I can see Chris is a rooster, complete with a comb and feathers I'm sure he plans to show off this evening." she earned a wink. "but what are you?" she eyed robert's white cravat and black frock coat with distaste. "surely you don't intend to masquerade as a gentleman?"

Chris smirked, and robert held up a hand to ward off the accusation. "Ah, but you have not yet seen my entire costume." He retreated to his cousin's room, where he grabbed a mask and a pack of cards on a string. The man's face in the mask grinned up at him with a curling black mustache. robert slipped the face over his head and returned to the sitting room.

"A gambler!" Aurelia proclaimed, snapping her fingers in approval.

"Not just a gambler." Chris flipped over the cards in robert's hand to display them faceup. "If you look closely, you will notice he has stacked the deck."

"yes, my dishonesty astounds me." robert hung the cards around his neck.

Aurelia slipped back under her cloak, and her companions did likewise with their own. "your cheating doesn't surprise me." she linked an elbow with each young man, pulling them toward the door. "How else could you have received the best marks in class?"

robert raised an eyebrow, unable to let the remark slide. "As I recall, your name was as often at the top of the class as mine."

"yes." she waved her head airily. "but that made sense."

"I am insulted." robert put on a look of mock offense. "you may receive my forgiveness by holding the door for my cousin and me."

Chris reached a hand toward the latch, and robert slapped it away. His cousin pretended to reel back from the sheer force of the slap by flinging himself against the wall. "I wouldn't if I were you, Aurelia," Chris teased, getting into the spirit of the conversation. "With a friend like him, you might not come back in one piece." The words slipped like a shadow into robert's mind.