The Swan Kingdom (20 page)

“These are wanton’s needle. It’s a horrible nettle – its sting makes the flesh swell and burn. And these…” She wrapped her fingers in the edge of her sleeve and picked up one of the tunics. “You’re using the nettles to make clothes. One tunic, one half done.” She looked at me thoughtfully. “Hmm…”

“Will you please tell me what this is about, Mother?” Gabriel demanded.

“I’m afraid I can’t. It tugs at an old memory – perhaps something in one of my books. There’s definitely some kind of spell here, but that’s all I can say.”

He took one of my crabbed, bent hands in his and held it, nursing it like a wounded bird as he looked at me. “Why did you do this to yourself? Weaving with nettles – why?”

I looked at him in appeal, biting my lip, and shook my head.
Please don’t ask more. How can I explain if I can’t speak?

He met my eyes for a moment, and then his gaze dropped. “All right. I’m sorry. I’m sure that whatever you do must be for a good reason.” I arched my brow at that, and won a small smile from him. Then he sighed. “If you must do this … well, wanton’s needle grows plentifully enough near by. Won’t you stay here, with us? I can send people to fetch anything you want from the forest – I’ll help you in any way I can.”

I smiled at him gladly and nodded my agreement, but inside there was an ache of sadness. My muteness had not bothered me while I lived in the woods; but now I was with Gabriel, the one person in the world whom I needed and wanted to talk to – and I could not utter a word.

With a determined look, I conveyed to them both I wanted to leave the room and look around. Tomorrow I would need to get back to work, but it couldn’t hurt to take one day to explore Gabriel’s home. I still had no idea where I was. Rose and Gabriel exchanged a glance, perhaps worried about my head, but I persisted, and eventually Rose opened the door, while Gabriel took my arm to lead me out.

“Er, there’s something I should have told you before now, Alexandra,” he began as we stepped into a long, white corridor. The only colour was in the lush rugs underfoot, and I was looking at the intricate patterns rather than listening to him as he continued. “It didn’t seem to matter at the time, but…”

Before he could finish his sentence, a small man, dressed elaborately in purple satin, came round the corner. When he saw Gabriel and Rose, he stopped abruptly. He gave my bedraggled appearance one surprised look, then turned away.

“Your Lordship.” He bowed deeply to Gabriel. “My Lady,” he murmured reverently to Rose, who nodded at him. “I was looking for you to ask…”

I didn’t listen to the rest of the man’s sentence but turned shocked eyes on Gabriel.
Your Lordship?

“Yes, I’m afraid so,” he whispered. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before, but I didn’t think of it the first time we met and afterwards it would have seemed like boasting. ‘Oh, by the way, I’m heir to the principality of Midland and my father’s the prince.’” Seeing my eyes widen even more at this casual disclosure, he added anxiously, “You’re not upset, are you? I didn’t mean to deceive you.”

I let out a long breath and then shook my head. I only wished it were possible for me to explain the truth about my identity. There were so many things I wanted to say to Gabriel, so many secrets I longed to share, but while my task bound me…

I could never tell him how I felt.

Before any more could be said, a deep peal rang out over our heads, making me jump.

Gabriel explained, “It’s the supper bell. The food will be ready in an hour; I don’t think we have time to explore after all. But you will eat with us, won’t you?”

I glanced down at my shabby, patched, faded and fraying dress, and then looked at Rose helplessly.

She laughed. “Oh, poor Alexandra!”

“I don’t understand,” said Gabriel, puzzled.

“She has nothing to wear.”

His confused expression did not change.

“Never mind, my son,” Rose said. “Go up to your rooms and get ready for the meal, and I shall arrange a bath for Alexandra and find her some clothes.”

I luxuriated in the copper bathing tub, washing myself with real, beautifully perfumed soap, and letting Rose massage shampoo into my tangled hair.

“I’ve never seen such hair,” she muttered to herself. Whether this was curse or compliment I did not know.

The water was an alarming greyish colour by the time I was finished; my hasty wahes in the chilly water from the well obviously had not been as thorough as I had hoped.

Hauled out and dried off, my hair combed until it rose up in a thick, crackling red cloud, I wass left alone as Rose went in search of a gown that might fit me. I must have grown again – I towered over Rose – so none of her things would do. I thought wistfully of the trunks of beautiful dresses that had gone with Isolde and Rother back to the Kingdom. I wondered what Zella had done with them. Shredded them in rage? Probably. They wouldn’t suit her, that was certain.

I pulled out the half-finished tunic while I waited for Rose to come back, and occupied myself with stripping that morning’s nettles. I had stopped to pick the stings out and rub salve into my hands when Rose came back, face triumphant. She had a swathe of vibrant kingfisher-blue fabric over her arm, which she shook out to reveal a gown.

“I almost had to prise this from Lady Suttel’s hands. But it would have suited her very ill anyway,” she said. “She is dark, you know. Dark-haired ladies look sallow in blue. It will look wonderful on you. Come on.”

She put a shift of soft white muslin over my head, then the dress itself, laced the tight bodice of the gown down my front, and stood back to admire the result. The dress seemed to fit me very well indeed, though the tight sleeves were a little long. I looked down and saw that its low, round neckline exposed an alarmingly large amount of bosom, which I’d never realized I had before. My hands flew up to cover it. The gowns my aunt had made for me never looked like this!

“Now, now, there’s no need for that,” Rose said, pulling my hands away. “You look lovely. This is the latest fashion! As for your hair…”

I reached back with the swiftness of long practice, caught my hair and braided it tightly, twisting it into its customary heavy knot at the nape of my neck.

“Oh no,” Rose said, coming behind me and unravelling my hair just as swiftly as I’d plaited it. “No one has worn their hair like that for twenty years! Just let me…” With a few twists she pulled back the front and top waves of my hair and braided them, leaving the rest to cascade over my shoulders.

I looked down again at my chest, and found myself hunching over, as if to conceal the excess flesh. But bending only made it bulge, and I straightened hurriedly. I pulled the curling mass of my hair forward and arranged it to cover the low neckline. The results were not entirely satisfactory.

Rose watched my efforts with amusement. “You’ll draw more attention to yourself that way,” she said. I glared at her, and she burst out laughing.

Just then another thunderous peal of sound broke over us, and I jumped again.

“Our meal will be ready in a few minutes. It’s time for us to go down, and for everyone to see you.”

I gave her a quizzical glance. Her smile was decidedly smug. “Just wait.”

She led me from the room, in the opposite direction to earlier. We turned a corner and the passage opened out onto a little balcony. The sun had almost set, but there was enough light to illuminate the scene below, and I stopped dead.

It was the city. The great city of Midland that had once been called the City of Flowers. Spread out before me in an immense sweep, it was a jumble of twinkling lights, sharp silhouettes of white and grey stone houses, and winding roads, stretching into the distance.

I had failed to make the connection between Gabriel and Rose being Midland’s heir and lady, and the place where Midland’s prince – and his family – must live. Good Ancestors! In my little cottage in the woods, I could have been no more than half a day’s ride from the city – and Gabriel – for all those months.

This place, this building where I stood, must be the glimmering pearly spike I had seen on my journey with John. I leaned over the edge of the balcony and let myself stare. From afar it had seemed awesome. This close it was unbelievable.

“Have you never seen the city before?” Rose asked, after allowing me a moment to gawp.

I held up one finger, then jerked my head and made a sweeping gesture with my hand.

“You’ve seen it once, but never this close?” she interpreted. “I know how you feel. I can still remember the sensation of awe – almost fear – I felt when I first came here. I’d never been more than a mile from my village, but the old Prince, my husband’s father, was so ill, they’d called in healers from all over Midland. Idiots. It only took me a day to realize he had pink-spot fever, and a week to make him better. But I never left.” She looked at me speculatively. “Do you think it’s beautiful?”

I nodded feelingly. Then I became aware that leaning over the balcony was making my chest bulge in a most alarming fashion, and jerked upright. Rose laughed at my expression and took my arm. “I’ll have Gabriel show you around the place tomorrow. But we must go down now – they won’t start eating until I arrive.”

We walked swiftly along another corridor until we came to the head of some smooth white stairs. The sound of many voices all talking and laughing at once drifted up from somewhere below. The steps swept away to the left and out of sight around a curving wall in a fashion I had never seen before. I stared at them curiously.

“They’re for making a grand entrance,” Rose said. “Would you go down ahead of me, dear? I like to cling to the banister myself.”

I looked at her askance, but she made a shooing gesture, and since I could not ask what she meant, I took a deep breath, shoved the thought of all those strangers out of my mind, and walked down the steps and around the curve of the wall.

I found myself stranded conspicuously on a great sweep of stairs above a gigantic banqueting hall. The ceiling arched up in great gilded stone ribs above me, interspaced with high arched windows through which the stars glittered frostily. The far wall was a screen of stone no thicker than an inch, worked and pierced as intricately as lace, allowing the evening breeze to perfume the hall. Brilliantly dyed and embroidered banners hung from the ceiling and walls into the sea of people sat at long tables below.

There must have been at least a hundred people down there. Servants scurried between the tables with jugs of wine so large they took two to carry them. The noise of talking, laughing, shouting – even some singing – was incredible. I turned my head to look back along the curve of the steps. Rose was nowhere in sight.

I was
not
going down there on my own. I gathered up a handful of my full skirts and half turned, intending to run back and find Rose. But before I could take the first step I became aware of a change in the noise below. The clamour was dying down, the chattering voices falling quiet, the laughter fading, until, with remarkable swiftness, complete silence had fallen over the great hall.

Slowly, I turned my head and looked down.

They were all staring at me. Every face was tilted up; every pair of eyes was fixed on the blue and red figure that marred their shining white stairs – even the servants were gawking, stopped in mid-trot between the tables. I froze, not daring to move a muscle, even as my mind whirled feverishly. Why did they stare so? What was wrong with me, other than the gaping neckline of the gown? Had I somehow committed some dreadful mistake without realizing it? Why were they
staring
?

The stillness of the scene was broken by a quick movement from the shortest table in the room, which stood on a raised dais to my left. It was Gabriel, pushing himself up from his seat, leaping off the dais and striding to the foot of the stairs. He was grinning, obviously waiting for me to walk down to him.

The look of pleasure and welcome on his face was enough to break my paralysis. I took a deep breath, straightened my shoulders, removed the hand that had unconsciously crept up to cover my chest, and caught hold of my skirts firmly. Then, with every ounce of dignity I possessed, I slowly walked down the painfully long curve of the stairs into the hall.

Somewhat to my own surprise, I reached the bottom without tripping over my dress, but I was still pricklingly conscious of the dozens of pairs of eyes riveted on me. I kept my gaze firmly on Gabriel as I stepped down onto the pink-veined marble of the floor. His grey eyes shone, and I felt a surge of happiness in response. My awareness of the others in the hall faded away. Let them stare, I thought fuzzily. I don’t care.

He reached out to take my hand, untangling it from my skirts. His palm closed around mine, and slowly he raised my crabbed, twisted fingers to his lips, and pressed a kiss to them.

“You’re so lovely,” he said, as if in answer to a question. “They stare because you’re so lovely.”

I blinked at him, a dozen protests automatically rising to my lips and just as automatically bitten back. Suddenly I was grateful that I could not speak, and had no duty to deny his words. I just smiled back.

A deafening cheer went up from the crowded tables. Everyone in the hall was on their feet, stamping and clapping, whistling, waving fists in the air. I gave Gabriel an alarmed look. What was happening now?

He rolled his eyes apologetically. “They get a bit carried away at times,” he said.

I felt heat rising in my cheeks. I’d forgotten anyone was even in the hall with us.

Gabriel held up his hands in a gesture for silence. “Yes! Thank you!” he bellowed. “Quiet, if you please!”

The cheering died down amid much laughter and scraping as people retook their seats. Rose came bouncing down the stairs to stand beside us. She was a little flushed, as if she might have been laughing, but she returned my accusing glare with bland innocence.

“I realized I had forgotten something,” she said airily. “But you seem to have managed. Shall we be seated? I’m sure we’re all famished by now.”

She led the way to the dais and up the two shallow steps to the fine table where the Prince and his family obviously dined. The larger, throne-like chair in the middle was obviously hers, which was a relief. I didn’t think I could have eaten with Gabriel sitting next to me.