Princess of the Midnight Ball - Jessica Day George [30]
It was not at all reassuring to find that Hyacinth shared her fears. “You are right,” she told Rose solemnly. “At first I thought we were innocent, and only Mother would be punished. But now, with the princes’ deaths on our heads, I’m certain of it.” She did not sound upset by this, merely resigned.
Poppy mimed silencing Hyacinth by putting a pillow over the latter’s head, but Daisy pulled her twin away. Annoyed, Poppy buried her own face in the pillow. “You can all be cursed if you want,” came her muffled voice, “but I prefer to think about the future.”
“Which is?” Jonquil raised an eyebrow. The sisters were all in their sitting room. Some were sewing; the younger ones had a jigsaw puzzle spread across the floor. Rose reclined on a divan by the window, tired from her walk back from the hothouse.
“Our time below will end, and we will be free,” Poppy said resolutely.
“What are my princesses about this fine day?” Anne, their plump governess, came bustling into the room.
Anne was Breton born and had come to Bruch as a companion and translator for Queen Maude. When Rose turned four, Anne had been persuaded to take up the position of royal governess, since her accomplishments included speaking Analousian, playing the pianoforte, and possessing a knowledge of history and the sciences, in addition to her fluency in both Bretoner and Westfalian. She was both a friend and a teacher to the girls, and Rose bitterly regretted that they could not tell Anne about the curse.
Poppy opened her mouth to answer the governess, then closed it again, unable to speak. It was no use attempting to confide in their governess, or anyone else. Their voices would simply fade away or nonsense would come spewing out, and the princesses had long ago stopped trying.
“Nothing,” Poppy muttered finally.
“Since you are well enough to talk about ‘nothing,’ why don’t we talk about Westfalian history?” Anne looked from one sister to the other with bright black eyes. She reminded Rose of a large sparrow.
The sisters who were still schooling age all groaned as they followed Anne into the schoolroom, leaving the older set behind.
“Rose, we are not cursed,” Lily said. She crossed the room to her older sister and tucked an afghan around Rose’s knees. “Don’t dwell on it. A few more years …”
“A few more years, and I’ll be dead,” Rose retorted, turning away from Lily. She stared out at the winter garden. She could see old Walter going along the path below with a barrow full of mulch and a trio of under-gardeners following him. Her heart skipped a beat, but when she saw that none of them was Galen, it subsided. She sighed.
Lily felt her forehead. “Are you feeling worse? Should you be in bed?”
“No, I’ll be fine.” She summoned a smile. “Really, I just want to sit here and rest, thank you.”
Rose must have fallen asleep, because the next thing she knew, Jonquil was shaking her awake. The younger girl was already dressed in a gown of pink satin, her hair done up in ribbons.
“It’s half past eleven,” Jonquil said, resignation in her voice. “Let’s get you ready.”
As they had since the first day of her illness, Lily and Jonquil helped Rose into a ball gown. They rouged her cheeks and arranged her hair, then laced on the new dancing slippers that had been delivered that day.
She was strong enough to dress herself, at this point, but holding her arms over her head to fix her hair still made her breathless. She toyed with the idea of going to the Midnight Ball in a nightgown and bedroom slippers, to emphasize the fact that she was not well and should not be forced to attend, but made the mistake of sharing the idea with Lily.
Lily was horrified, fearing that if any one of them was not looking her best, they would all be punished. Things had been even more strained since they had missed a night, so Rose permitted them to dress her