Princess of the Midnight Ball - Jessica Day George [43]
She put up her chin. “May I help you, um, Galen?” Her voice started out dignified but squeaked on his name.
Catching himself grinning foolishly, Galen cleared his throat and asked again if he might see her father.
Rose’s eyes widened. “Why?”
Galen frowned. He didn’t think asking to see the king was all that shocking. He had in fact met the king twice in the hothouses.
“I wanted to ask if I could help try to solve the mystery of your worn-out dancing slippers.”
Rose flinched and Galen thought he saw a fearful look cross her face. “I’ll ask,” she said, and went back through the door behind her.
He gathered up his knitting and waited patiently, while the other princesses looked down at him from the gallery. Pansy came out of the door Galen suspected led to the princesses’ rooms and stood there looking at him and sucking her thumb for a moment before Lily noticed.
“Pansy! Stop that! You’re a big girl!” Lily pulled Pansy’s thumb away from her mouth and scrubbed it with a handkerchief. Pansy started to wail.
“Here!” Galen called up to her. “Would you like a ball?”
“No! I hate dancing!” Pansy sobbed.
“I meant a little ball to play with, Your Highness,” Galen amended. He was startled by her reaction but covered it by rummaging in his bag. He found some bright red yarn, much cheerier than the brown and green he had been working with, and held it up.
“That’s just a wad of yarn,” Poppy pointed out.
Galen winked at her. He swiftly wound the yarn around his left hand a hundred times, cut it, and slipped it off. He tied it in the middle and then used his knife to snip the ends, making a fluffy sort of pom-pom.
“Catch!” He tossed it up to Pansy.
She caught it and looked at it curiously before rubbing the little puff of yarn against her face, her tears stopping. She gave him a watery smile. “Thank you, Herr Under-gardener,” she quavered.
Just then Rose came back.
“The king will see you now,” she said formally, her face a mask.
Shouldering his bag, Galen went up the curving stairs and joined them on the gallery. He bowed to the princesses assembled there and followed Rose into the room where her father waited. This was a large chamber, mostly filled by a long table and high-backed chairs. There were several men seated around the table, and at its head was the king. He had the deflated look of a plump man who has suddenly lost weight, and there were dark circles under his eyes.
“How is my wife’s garden?”
One of the councillors stirred at this. Two others turned and whispered to each other, one of them giving Galen a hard look, as though he thought Galen was wasting their time.
“It flourishes, Your Majesty,” Galen said, bowing. “The winter is growing bitter cold, but the snow is not deep. With God’s grace, and a gentle spring, we shall have a fine carpet of crocuses.”
The king barked a laugh. “God’s grace seems to have abandoned us, son.” King Gregor looked Galen over. “You are the young man who has been … patrolling the gardens, are you not?”
“Yes, sire.” Galen saw the startled look on Rose’s face, and on the faces of several of the councillors, and guessed that the king had not told many people about Galen’s nighttime activities.
“Have you anything to report?”
“Only that the princesses are not leaving the palace, sire.” Galen blushed furiously as he said this, seeing the betrayed look in Rose’s eyes.
One of the councillors shook his head. “We already know that. The palace guard confirmed that months ago,” he said impatiently.
The king didn’t respond. His gaze flicked to Rose and the shawl she still clutched about her shoulders. “My daughter Rose says that you may be able to help us.”
“Yes, sire.” Galen ignored the derisive snorts from the whispering councillor, glancing over at Rose instead. Her brows were drawn together in a worried expression, and when she met his eyes she seemed to be pleading with him. He didn’t dare ask her what she was thinking, but plunged ahead. “I would like to try my hand at solving the mystery of the dancing slippers from within the palace. As the late princes have done.”
“If the princesses