Princess of the Midnight Ball - Jessica Day George [65]
“We’re coming.” Rose hurried Pansy down the rest of the stairs. “Who does the spirit sound like?” she whispered as they went.
“A spirit,” Pansy said; then she clapped a hand to her mouth. “I’m not supposed to talk about it,” she said from between her fingers. “It’s a secret.”
To Galen’s relief, they reached the silver and pearl gate before Rose could convince Pansy to tell her any more. He rode in the boat with Jonquil and her prince, who was not as stoic as his brothers.
“What did you eat for dinner?” the dark prince huffed.
“What do you mean?” Jonquil frowned at her escort as he rowed.
“You’re so heavy, it’s like you’re wearing iron underthings,” he panted.
“Oh!” Jonquil whacked her prince on the shoulder with her fan. “How rude!”
When their boat reached the island and the black palace, Jonquil leaped out without waiting for assistance. She stalked into the palace ahead of everyone else, with her prince scuttling at her heels, apologizing every step of the way. Laughing to himself, Galen lagged behind to scoop up some of the coarse black sand. He tied it into his handkerchief and then stuffed the bundle into his belt pouch.
Thirsty, Galen helped himself to a goblet when they reached the ballroom. He noticed that Rose was still on the alert, searching the corners of the room for any sign of something unusual. Prince Illiken tried to regain her attention by holding even more tightly to her narrow waist, which made Galen reach for another goblet, and another. Finally Illiken grew so impatient with her distracted air that he stalked off to get his own drink, leaving Rose near the chairs where Galen played “good spirit” with Pansy.
Galen stowed the goblets behind a curtain and walked up to twitch the hem of Rose’s shawl. She gasped and looked around.
“Hello,” Galen said in a low voice. “Would you like to dance?”
“So you’re Pansy’s good spirit?”
“I am.”
“Your voice sounds familiar.” Her eyes sparkled. “Could you pretend to snore, so that I could make sure?”
Galen didn’t answer. He caught Rose around the waist and spun her out onto the dance floor. She held her arms wide and laughed, letting Galen lead her in circles around the other dancers. They stared at the princess as she danced wildly across the gleaming floor. They could not see Galen, and as they passed Lily he heard her gasp that Rose was acting mad. Rose heard too, and laughed harder.
Galen leaned close to her ear. “Could the king come aboveground?”
The question sobered Rose but couldn’t keep the sparkle out of her eyes. “No. The king cannot leave here, ever.”
“I can seal the gate in the morning,” Galen told her. “You will never have to dance again!”
“The stairs will not work until midnight,” Rose said, shaking her head as he spun her around. Pins flew from her elaborate coiffure and clattered across the floor.
“Don’t worry, I will set you free,” Galen said, becoming bold. “Rose, I—”
“What is this?” Unannounced, the pale King Under Stone slammed into the ballroom and stood glaring at the giddy Rose. Belatedly the trumpeters began to blow a fanfare, but the king cut them off with a sharp gesture.
Rose stepped away from Galen and curtsied unsteadily. “Please forgive me, Your Majesty. I … became intoxicated with the music.”
Prince Illiken arrived at her side, his pale face scarlet with embarrassment. Rose pretended to lean against him as though exhausted, and Galen strangled his jealousy.
“I see.” But now the king frowned around the room suspiciously. As his eyes passed over the place where Galen stood, they hesitated for the barest instant, and Galen felt sweat roll down his cheeks and back. “Come here, dear Rose,” the king said, beckoning to her. “The rest of you, continue dancing.”
The musicians took up their instruments again, and the other dancers once more moved across the floor. Prince Illiken at her elbow, Rose stood at the foot of the dais and faced the king.
“I understand that you have yet another young man sniffing at your skirts,” the cold king