Princess of the Midnight Ball - Jessica Day George [23]
“I’m sure he’s very handsome,” Galen said, managing a smile. He was still troubled by what she had said, about them not being free. And what did she mean that the invaders were things you find “under a stone”?
“But is he intelligent? That’s the real question,” Poppy said. “Intelligent enough to find out all our secrets? If he is, he gets to marry one of us, you know. And be the king after Papa dies.”
Galen was almost more taken aback by this than by what she had said before. “What’s this?”
“Father just told us,” Poppy said. Her voice was still light, but Galen detected an underlying edge to it. “If Fernand can find out why our dancing shoes are worn through at night—it’s now every night that it happens, you know—then he gets to pick one of us to marry, and he’ll be king one day.”
“And if he doesn’t find out?”
“Then Papa will invite another prince, and another, until one of them does!” Her voice sounded slightly hysterical now, and she laughed, but Galen saw tears in her violet-blue eyes.
“Your Highness,” he began helplessly. Then he just shook his head. Who was he to tell her it would be all right? He couldn’t even begin to fathom what her life was like. Galen just took her arm and led her through the garden.
“Galen!” Uncle Reiner came out of the rose hothouse just as they were passing and stopped short when he saw who was with his nephew. He bowed. “Your Highness, please forgive young Galen’s forwardness.” He glared furiously over her head at Galen.
“Herr Orm,” Poppy said, nodding her head at him. “Your nephew is helping me back to the palace. I am not as well as I thought.”
Reiner Orm made a harrumphing noise through his mustache but didn’t say anything. He bowed again to Poppy, and Galen and the young princess strolled away.
“I think he’s angry with me,” Galen said out of the corner of his mouth.
“But he can’t do anything about it,” Poppy pointed out. “I am a princess, after all.”
“And I’m very privileged to be able to assist you, Your Highness,” Galen said with a smile.
Poppy laughed. “Rose will be jealous, if she sees us,” Poppy said, looking up at Galen from under her eyelashes. “She thinks you’re handsome.”
Galen stopped in his tracks. Now his cheeks really were red under his tan. “But we’ve never … I only … by the fountain.”
“She sits by the window in the afternoons, to try to get some sun. She watches you working,” Poppy told him. “And she said you looked so strong and brave, standing in the moonlight with your switch that night.” She giggled at Galen’s discomfiture.
He gave a wary look. She was teasing him, he knew, but teasing him with the truth? Did Princess Rose watch him? He glanced up at the windows of the palace, but the angle of the weak wintry sun made it hard to tell if anyone was beyond the glass.
“Of course, she’ll kill me for telling you that,” Poppy said cheerfully.
“I certainly won’t tell her,” Galen said fervently.
“I didn’t think you would.” She laughed again. “Oh, look, Prince Fernand is here.” She made a face.
Someone was throwing open windows along the east side of the palace, not far from the princesses’ rooms. Galen and Poppy could clearly hear orders being shouted in Spanian, and see servants running to and fro.
“Well, he sounds pleasant,” Poppy said dryly.
“I’m sure he has many fine … qualities,” Galen said.
He wasn’t sure how he felt about this Spanian prince, really. Spania had been an ally of Westfalin during the war, and Galen had fought alongside some Spanian regiments. He hadn’t much cared for them: they were too concerned with keeping their uniforms clean. The Westfalians tended to be a rather rough-and-tumble people. Galen wondered how a Spanian prince would like ruling over such a nation.
He saw Poppy to the wide terrace doors that faced out on the gardens.