Princess of the Midnight Ball - Jessica Day George [0]
of the
Midnight
Ball
Jessica Day George
For Jenn
Finally
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Dedication
Prologue
Soldier
Bruch
Princess
Ill
Plan
Gardener
Solution
Spania
La Belge
Hothouse
Dancer
Spy
Breton
Shawl
Interdict
Suitor
First night
Twigs
Needles
Second night
Goblest
Governess
Third night
Sand
Riot
Angier
Prisoner
Warrior
Black Wool Chain
Truth
Spring
Pronunciation guide
Acknowledgments
Also by the Author
Imprint
Prologue
Because he had once been human, the King Under Stone sometimes found himself plagued by human emotions. He was experiencing one now, as he faced the mortal woman before him, but it took a moment for him to give it a name. After a pause he labeled it “triumph.”
“Do you understand our bargain?” The king had a voice like a steel blade breaking on stone.
“I do.” The human queen’s voice was steady. “Twelve years will I dance for you here below, and in return Westfalin shall be victorious.”
“Let us not forget the years you still owe me,” the king said. “Our first bargain is not yet fulfilled.”
“I know.” She bowed her head in weariness. There were dark circles beneath her eyes and gray in her hair though she was a young woman still.
The King Under Stone stretched out his long white hand and lifted her chin. “What a pity your daughters do not join you at our little fetes,” he said. “Such lovely girls, I am sure. And my twelve sons are pining for companionship.” Again the feeling of triumph: the idea of these mortal girls dancing with his sons. There had always been the little problem, as his sons grew older, of where to find them brides.
Beautiful brides who could walk in the sun.
And then this mortal queen had come to him, begging for aid in bearing children with her fat, foolish husband. She had borne seven daughters so far, and once she had borne a dozen, Under Stone had decided that he would find a way to bring the girls below to meet their future husbands.
A look of horror spread across the queen’s face at his suggestion. “My d-daughters are s-sweet, honorable girls,” she stuttered. “And young. Too young to be married!”
“Ah, but my sons are young, and their dear mothers were all sweet, honorable women, just like yourself and your little daughters! And my princes do long for companions of their own kind.” Each of Under Stone’s sons had been born to a mortal woman, and he wanted their wives to be mortal as well. The King Under Stone brushed back a stray curl of the queen’s hair.
She drew back. “Are we finished? I must go… the children… my husband….”
“Yes, yes.” He waved a long hand. “Our bargain is made. You may go.”
She turned and hurried away. Away from the black palace on the shadowy shore. A silent figure, cloaked and hooded, rowed her across the sunless lake in a silver filagree boat and escorted her to the gate that led to the sunlight world.
The King Under Stone smiled as he watched Queen Maude hurry away. She would be back. She had to come back, every week. But that was not what made him smile. She had concealed her condition for quite some time, but as she settled into the boat it became apparent that the human queen was expecting her eighth child, precisely on schedule.
“Another precious little princess for her and her darling Gregor,” Under Stone said, the cold semblance of human feeling just barely tingeing his voice. “And another beautiful bride for one of my sons.”
Soldier
Exhausted almost beyond the point of thought, Galen nevertheless kept moving forward, alone in the middle of the dusty road. In his head he sang the marching song of his old regiment, but his feet stumbled more than they marched.
Left, left, left, left, left my wife and children too! Did I do right, right, right, right, right?
He laughed a little to himself. He was not quite nineteen years old, and he had spent most of his life on the battlefield. He had no wife or children to leave, only filthy tents, bad food, and death. Before him lay the endless road, dust, thirst, and life. Or so he hoped.
He drank the last swig of water from