Princess of the Midnight Ball - Jessica Day George [76]
But then he saw what was beyond the tree.
A boat, made of lacy silver filigree, had been pulled up among the trees and beached there. It looked as if it would sink in an instant, but hope fluttered in Galen’s breast. He bent and inspected it. It looked like a piece of silver lace, hardened and curved, and there was a scrap of blue satin snagged on one of the oarlocks.
It was well known that blue had been Queen Maude’s favorite color; she had worn it in every portrait that Galen had seen.
“So that is how she got across,” Galen said under his breath.
Then he grabbed the edge of the boat and hauled it down to the water. He said a silent prayer as it slid onto the black waves, and watched without breathing as it bobbed there. No water seeped in; it floated as lightly as a dry leaf. Not wanting to waste any more time, Galen leaped aboard and grabbed the silver oars. With every stroke his urgency intensified again, and the slap of the water against the lacy hull whispered for him to hurry.
It was even more disconcerting to see the princesses tonight than it had been the three previous nights. They were dressed in the cobweb-fine silks of the kingdom Under Stone, clinging gowns of purple, ebony, and indigo that looked like bruises to Galen’s eyes. Their faces, normally pale and resigned in this place, were filled with despair now, and several of them sobbed openly.
He searched for Rose and found her on the far side of the ballroom, deep in conversation with Illiken as they danced. Eyes narrowed, worried about what she was up to, Galen wound between the figures of the dance until he was near enough to hear her.
“If I made a contract with your father, to allow you to come above for one night, would you promise not to harm any member of my household?”
Galen’s breath exploded out in a “No!”
Rose and her suitor both froze. The couples around them for several paces froze as well, and all turned to see who had shouted.
Color bloomed in Rose’s cheeks. “What was that sound?” She looked around with an air of obviously feigned innocence. “Did you hear that, Illiken?”
“Of course I heard it,” he said stiffly. “Something is amiss here.” He glared around, his gaze passing over Galen several times, but Illiken’s power was not great enough to allow him to see through the cape’s influence. He turned to a servant. “Beg my lord father’s presence,” he commanded.
“Your lord father is already here,” said a wintry voice.
The doors at the end of the ballroom had opened soundlessly while the courtiers’ attention had been on Rose.
“What has happened?” The king sat on his throne as if he couldn’t care less, but his eyes were fixed on Rose the entire time.
“Forgive me, lord,” Jonquil said, curtsying. Of the princesses, she had been the nearest to Rose. “I coughed suddenly, and it disrupted the dance.”
“You … coughed?” The king raised his eyebrows, clearly not believing a word of Jonquil’s excuse. “I see.” The pale king’s skepticism was palpable. “Rionin?”
Jonquil’s suitor snapped to attention. “My lord father?”
“Did she, in fact, cough?”
Confusion clouded the prince’s handsome face. “I wasn’t paying attention.”
The king’s gaze wandered over the assembly, and once again his eyes lingered on the spot where Galen stood.
Illiken, of all people, came to the rescue.
“My lord father, may I speak with you?”
The king nodded, then waved to the musicians’ gallery for them to continue. The dancing started up again, with the exception of Rose, who went to the chairs along the wall to sit down, and Illiken, who bent one knee to speak low words to his father.
“What are you plotting?” Galen hissed to Rose.
She didn’t even jump at the sound of his disembodied voice. “I had to try something.”
“Inviting Under Stone’s son aboveground? What earthly good could that do?”
“I wanted a chance to go home again,” she hissed. “I thought we could elude them, once we were there.”
“Just