Princess of the Midnight Ball - Jessica Day George [34]
“I’m an evil person,” she mumbled under her breath.
“What was that, dear, dear Rose?” Alfred wrinkled his nose at her in what she supposed was meant to be an alluring way.
“I—I—” She couldn’t think of anything. She was staring at his large, slightly bulging eyes and couldn’t seem to look away.
“I beg your pardon, Your Highnesses.” Galen Werner stepped around some potted roses and gave them a brief bow. “Prince Alfred is wanted back at the palace.”
“I am? Why?” Prince Alfred looked mystified, and Rose agreed silently: why would anyone want him?
“I couldn’t say, Your Highness,” Galen said. “I’m only an under-gardener.”
Alfred struck a dramatic pose, somewhat ruined by the bloody scrap of linen clutched in one hand. “I shall be but a moment, fair princess,” he whinnied.
“Very well,” was all Rose could say.
After Prince Alfred had gone, Rose sank down on a small bench with a sigh. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back. Galen was still hovering nearby, looking at her with concern.
“Do you need anything, Your Highness?”
She opened her eyes and looked at him. “Why was Prince Alfred needed at the palace?”
Galen flushed. “He, well, I couldn’t say. … ”
Rose burst out laughing. “Did you just say that to get rid of him?”
“Er, yes.” Galen looked around sheepishly. “He seemed to be bothering Your Highness.”
“Oh, he was,” she agreed, giving him a grateful smile. “And my traitorous sisters abandoned me!”
“Very cruel of them.”
“Very.” She gave a little shudder. “Did you see his teeth?”
“He does have … very large teeth,” Galen said. “I’m sure that he has other fine features, however,” Galen added, not very convincingly.
“His teeth are probably his best feature, I’m afraid,” Rose said, still laughing. “I feel cruel saying such things, especially since we are related … but he’s so vain!”
Galen looked thoughtful. “He does remind me of a very handsome cart horse I once knew,” he said. “They had the same color hair.”
Rose laughed aloud again. It felt good to be able to laugh without coughing, but more than that, it felt good just to find something to laugh about. That morning her father had taken her aside after breakfast and begged her to let Alfred uncover their secret.
“My dear,” King Gregor had said, tears in his eyes. “I am pleading with you: let this young fool succeed. I do not know what secret you keep, or why, but it must end. Please, Rosie.” He cleared his throat. “Not the man I would have picked for you, for any of you, but rumors are racing through the Ionian courts. They’re saying that you poor girls must have had a hand in these unfortunate deaths. I don’t know if offering my kingdom is incentive enough to draw another suitor.”
Rose grieved that their curse had brought her father to this state—begging with bloodshot eyes for a foolish, horse-faced prince to win her hand—but there was nothing she could do. She could no more speak of the curse than she could prevent the enchanted sleep from overtaking Alfred that night and the nights after.
“Now, what’s made you look sad?” Galen stared down at her, anxious.
She blinked away her memories of this morning. “Nothing.” She shrugged. “Just the thought that if horrible Prince Alfred doesn’t—” She realized that she was confiding her family’s problems to one of the gardeners and stopped herself short. “It’s nothing.”
“You’re worried that Prince Alfred, horrible as he is, will come to harm, and you’ll be blamed?” Galen’s voice was gentle.
Tears pricked Rose’s eyes, her laughter gone. She nodded. “Father’s at his wit’s end.”
“You can’t tell anyone what’s going on, can you?”
She shook her head.
“Not even me? I’m not a prince,” he wheedled.
“No one,” she said with a little hiccup.
Galen took out a pair of gardening shears and went to the bush with the pink-and-scarlet roses. He neatly cut the stem of the bloom Alfred had tried to pick and peeled off the thorns before offering it to Rose.
“I shouldn’t,” she protested.
“It’s already done,” he told her. “Don’t let it go to waste.” Their fingers touched when