Princess of the Midnight Ball - Jessica Day George [32]
Galen stopped walking. He had already decided that telling people he had a cloak that rendered him invisible was dangerous. He could be accused of witchcraft, or simply of being mad if no one believed him. He’d come up with a plausible lie, and he would ask God for forgiveness later.
“I learned things in the army, sir,” Galen said. “Scouting, spying, that sort of thing. I am sure that I can observe the princesses without them knowing.”
Kelling nodded slowly, and started walking back to the palace. “You were a soldier?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You barely look old enough to have seen the last battle.”
“My father was a career army man, sir. I was there at the first engagement with Analousia, and took up my father’s rifle when I was barely fifteen.”
“Saints preserve us,” Dr. Kelling said, and squeezed Galen’s shoulder. “What have we done to our youth?” His bright eyes studied Galen’s tanned face and he shook his head. “What’s your name, lad?”
“Galen Werner, sir.”
“Well, Galen Werner, perhaps a talented spy is what we need, instead of these princes stumbling about in the dark. First, I must see to my patients, but after that I will be taking lunch with His Majesty and I shall speak to him about your idea. In the meantime you’d better continue with your work. I know Reiner Orm, and he will not be pleased if he catches you hanging about the front drive.”
“No, sir,” Galen said with a smile.
He loped off, hope rising in his chest. Dr. Kelling would speak to the king and Galen would get permission to snoop around at night. With his cloak he would be able to follow Rose and her sisters and discover what madness had caught them up in its web. Soon the princesses would be able to rest, and they would get well. Smiling, he imagined the flush of health on Princess Rose’s cheek. He would not be offered her hand in marriage, of course. But perhaps he might ask to dance with her at a ball, or sit with her at dinner, just once.
Whistling, he took up his rake.
He was still in good spirits when a message from the doctor was delivered by one of the footmen. Galen would not be allowed inside the palace, but he would be permitted to roam the gardens all night. If he had anything to report, Galen was to leave a message with one of the indoor staff, addressed to either King Gregor or Dr. Kelling. There was a letter with the king’s seal included, giving him the freedom of the palace grounds after the other gardeners had gone home and the gates had been locked.
Now singing under his breath, Galen continued his work until sunset and walked home with Uncle Reiner as usual. They had a fine dinner, and Galen went up to his room afterward as though nothing were out of the ordinary. Reiner Orm had a strict sense of class and propriety, and Galen knew it would be useless to tell his relations what he was about. After ten, when he was sure everyone else was asleep, Galen stuffed the dull purple cape into his satchel and slipped out of the house.
It was strange to walk the streets of Bruch at night. During the day they were all a-bustle: carts and horses, people on foot, neighbors calling out to one another. But now they were silent. A cold rain had fallen and the streets gleamed, slick and wet, in the moonlight.
Stranger still was approaching the guards at the palace gate and showing them the king’s letter. Once he was well away from the gatehouse, in the shadows of a dripping oak tree, Galen pulled the cloak out of his satchel and put it on. As soon as the gold clasp was fastened, he disappeared. He hurried down the gravel paths to the south side of the palace and took up his position just below the princesses’ windows.
There were some large ornamental boulders where he and Walter often sat to eat their lunch. They were cold now, and wet, so Galen didn’t sit, but paced around them to keep warm while he watched the windows.
A slim form appeared, drawing aside one of the curtains to look out, and Galen’s heart began to pound. Then she turned her head, and Galen realized that the profile did not belong to Rose,