Princess of the Midnight Ball - Jessica Day George [41]
“You’re getting above your place, lad,” Uncle Reiner said. “All this talking in corners with the princesses … I should have put a stop to it at once.”
“I think I can help them,” Galen said quietly.
“You’ll not bother them in their time of trouble,” Reiner said, putting a restraining hand on Galen’s shoulder. “We’ll go back to work tomorrow morning as if nothing were amiss, and if I see you so much as look at one of the princesses, I’ll have you shoveling manure till doomsday.” He squeezed Galen’s shoulder, hard. “Understand?”
Galen clenched his jaw. He disliked being manhandled. With a deft twist, he freed himself of Uncle Reiner’s grip and moved past the older man to the door. “Good-bye.”
As he walked down the street, he heard his uncle shouting about him not being welcome in their house again, but he ignored it. If he wasn’t able to solve this puzzle, he would soon die. And if he was … well, perhaps that would help to change Uncle Reiner’s mind. Galen did not expect to be extended the same offer that the princes had been given. King Gregor would not want an under-gardener as a son-in-law, and would certainly never designate him his heir.
The gates were locked, and it was only after he had showed his letter from King Gregor to the guards that they let him inside. They sneered at his paltry title at the top of the letter: Under-gardener Galen Werner. By way of reply, Galen calmly pointed out to one guard that his powder horn was leaking. Clucking his tongue over this negligence, Galen went up the drive to the front doors of the palace, shrugging aside the guards’ shouts to go around the back to the servants’ entrance.
Before Galen could knock, he heard someone coming up the steps behind him and turned to see who it was. Walter Vogel stood there, one eyebrow arched as he took in Galen’s finery.
“Did you find out something last night?” the old man asked.
“No,” Galen said. “But I haven’t given up hope yet. I’m here to ask King Gregor if I can’t try to solve this from the inside.”
“As a potential suitor?”
“As a concerned … friend,” Galen said.
“Come with me first,” Walter said, and stumped off without waiting to see if Galen would follow.
He led Galen to the herb garden near the kitchens. Like all the gardens in the palace grounds, it was beautifully laid out, in a circular pattern with the various herbs planted in wedge-shaped sections, and neatly raked paths in between. Most of the herbs were long harvested, but Walter moved confidently to the center of the circle and rooted around the base of some tall dill plants that still grew.
“Here you are, young Galen.”
Walter presented Galen with a sprig of surprisingly green leaves. A few pale green berries clung to the stem as well.
“What is that?” Galen leaned close and sniffed but couldn’t detect an odor.
“Nightshade,” Walter replied.
Galen drew back. “Why is it growing here?”
“It’s quite a common weed, actually,” Walter said. He looked at the little sprig as though he couldn’t understand Galen’s reaction to it.
“But it’s a poison!”
Walter shrugged. “So it is. I’m not proposing that you eat it. Pin a sprig of this under your collar, and it will protect you from enchantment.”
“It will?”
“Aye, it will indeed. That’s why I let it grow.” Walter produced a silver pin from his pocket, looking sly. “A weed, and a poison, but also a powerful help to have around.” He offered the sprig to Galen.
Still reluctant to touch it, Galen studied the little plant for a moment. It appeared harmless, but so did any poisonous plant. On the other hand, he trusted Walter. And it would certainly help if he were immune to whatever enchantment haunted the princesses. Not to mention their ill-fated suitors.
He took the nightshade.
Pinning it under his lapel, Galen walked with Walter back around to the front of the palace. There Walter shook Galen’s hand solemnly, saying, “Good luck, Galen. You are a worthy young man.” Then he stumped off on his own business.