Page 20 of Secondhand Charm

“Put your wig back on,” Alfonso barked. “Pronto! Pronto!”

  I stuffed my hair back under as best I could and pressed the wig onto my scalp, hoping it wasn’t too far askew.

  And then all of us, La Commedia and the Circus Phantasmagoria, went up the stairs and entered the glittering salon, lining up in a row and bowing for King Leopold and Annalise, his snake-in-the-grass bride and queen.

  Chapter 43

  The king clapped his hands loudly. “Welcome! Welcome! You’ve come to entertain us, have you? We await you with great pleasure. Even though”—he kissed Annalise’s hand—“I have all the entertainment I need in my radiant queen.”

  Annalise’s eyes were riveted to me. Whatever shred of confidence I still had drained away. She knew me immediately.

  She’d never looked more beautiful than she did this night. Her cheeks were flushed red, her eyes, dark and broody, her hair now flowing down her back, with only the sides pulled off her face and tied in a true love’s knot at the nape of her neck. She was no mere queen of Pylander. She was an immortal fairy queen.

  She looked at Ronald, and back at me. Her nostrils flared. Her eyes were full of suspicion.

  She would hate me, I realized. And in that moment, in spite of all I knew, in spite of what I’d come to do, this hurt me most. Withdrawing her affection would leave a gaping hole in my heart. What terrible wounds she could inflict with only her scorn.

  Why, Annalise, did you do this?

  “My darling,” King Leopold said, “have we any more of that wine you poured for the crew? Sixty-seven was a splendid vintage. Wouldn’t it bolster our performers also?”

  “Alas, my king,” Annalise said, never breaking her gaze upon me. “The thirsty crew has finished even the dregs from the bottles.”

  “A pity,” said the king. “We shall ask the captain what he has in the ship’s supply.”

  I broke away with effort from Annalise’s spell and looked at the king. There he sat, so handsome, so alive, dressed in his wedding clothes, sampling a platter of delicacies and sharing morsels with the woman he idolized, never dreaming she had murder in mind.

  Pity overwhelmed me.

  In the same moment, my own life stretched before me, all my dreams jumbled together. University. Medicine. Healing the sick, delivering babies, riding the undersea waves with my leviathan to discover what the ocean could teach me. A lifetime with Clair. Tending Grandfather in his declining years. And somewhere in all those dreams, the possibility of someone else beside me. By boarding The Starlight tonight, I had forfeited my future for the king’s. Precious though he may be to Pylander, I wished I didn’t need to die for him. Not if there was any other way.

  The only way I could see, however faintly, was putting my plan in motion.

  “What shall we do first?” the king said, reaching for another appetizer. “The circus, or the theater?”

  “As my lord wishes,” Annalise cooed.

  “Then … the theater,” King Leopold announced. “Here! Get off with you!” The monkey had loped across the floor and climbed up into a chair at the king’s table, where he tried to reach for the savories on the platter.

  The circus clown clacked his tongue, and the monkey bounded to his shoulder.

  “Cheeky devil,” the king said. “No respect for God or the crown. He was aiming for my onion tart.”

  The circus performers removed themselves to a table at one side of the room while the brothers and I took possession of the open area of the salon, making it our stage. Rudolpho stowed a box of props behind a chair.

  “My lord the king,” Alfonso cried, stepping forward with both arms outstretched. “We come before you tonight to grace the celebration of your most beautiful marriage to your most beautiful queen, with our humble little performance. We are La Commedia dell’Arte, the, er, three of us. We’ve performed in Florence and Milan, Barcelona and Rome, and tonight we play for you and your fair bride. Our show tonight? She is called, ‘The Jealous Love of the Bandit Prince’!”

  Annalise’s knuckles whitened around the stem of her glass.

  “Ho ho!” Leopold cried, leaning back in his chair. “Is that me, darling? Your bandit prince? I love you jealously, to that I’ll swear.”

  Annalise forced a smile for him, then blasted me with her full scorn. I ignored her fiery look and my heart thumping in my chest. We had a show to put on.

  “Once upon a time,” I said, trying to sound theatrical, “the prince of a foreign land came to Pylander, disguised himself, and became a bandit on the highway, robbing and plundering the people that passed by.”

  Rudolpho marched along as a jaunty traveler, until Alfonso leaped out at him and began pummeling him with the flat of a wooden sword. I winced to see the blows. They were acting, weren’t they?

  “No one knew he was a prince. They only knew he was a ruthless killer.”

  “Have mercy!” Rudolpho the victim cried. “Spare me, I pray you … aaaaghh!”

  A battered and, I could almost imagine, bloodied Rudolpho lay splayed out across the floor. Prince Ronald the strong man folded his arms across his chest and glowered at Annalise.

  “But the prince was wealthy in his own right. Why did he need to plunder and steal? Was he mad?”

  Alfonso rubbed his greedy hands together.

  “It was his lady,” I said, entering the scene as the guilty woman herself. “His princess lover, from another far-off kingdom, with her insatiable appetite for gold and jewels, for carriages and pleasure boats, for palaces and kingdoms.” I sauntered across the stage area, wearing a painted tin crown nestled atop my wig. Alfonso presented me with a sparkly tin necklace and I smiled at it, then beckoned for more, more, more.

  “So on the bandit prince went, robbing and terrorizing the countryside, with no one to check his wicked ways.”

  Poor Rudolpho took another beating from Alfonso. Annalise rested her chin in her hand and watched the show, mildly amused.

  “The princess was betrothed to the king of Pylander,” I said, “but her heart belonged to the bandit prince. The two of them conceived a wicked plan. They would make off with the entire kingdom of Pylander!”

  Alfonso and I pretended to whisper together, but all the while I watched King Leopold, desperate to see some glimmer of understanding in his eyes, but he just went on sampling his food, chewing, and watching the show.

  “On the day of the marriage, the bandit prince followed the king and queen onto their honeymoon boat,” I said. Rudolpho, now the king, escorted me onto an imaginary boat, while Alfonso crept along after us, crouching and tiptoeing like a villain. Oh please, King, open your eyes and see!

  Prince Ronald saw. He kept his fist wrapped tightly around the hilt of his sword. The other members of the Circus Phantasmagoria exchanged uneasy glances. The monkey scampered back and forth along the chair rail behind the tables.

  “Before they could even finish their bridal supper, the bandit prince struck, slaying the Pylandrian king where he sat, striking him down in cold blood on the night of his marriage.”

  “You think you have wedded my lady love?” Alfonso cried. “We shall see!” He plunged his wooden sword into Rudolpho’s armpit, and the mortally wounded actor-king sank to the ground in a fine display of groaning and burbling out his bitter end.

  King Leopold paused in his chewing.

  Did he begin to see?

  If not, then …

  Clair? Are you close by?

  I am here, Mistress, in the water beside the ship.

  Is Bijou with you?

  No, Mistress.

  “Why do you suffer such a tedious performance to drag out?” Queen Annalise said. “I regret that I invited these second-rate performers onto our ship, my lord. Let’s send them back from whence they came.”

  “Tedious? I think they’re droll.” King Leopold waved a tiny drumstick at us. “Go on.”

  I swallowed hard. I’d lost. If he didn’t see yet, he never would until it was too late.

  “The bandit princ
e and the treacherous queen ran off together, and returned from the bridal trip months later, telling Pylander that the king had died of illness, and that the child the queen carried in her womb was the king’s own son. In time they were married, and they ruled Pylander as though it were their own. And the royal bloodline of the house of Pylander was cut off, and the land itself sold through treachery to the foreign prince and his sons. And all because the Pylandrian king loved hastily, and trusted blindly. The end.”

  King Leopold wiped his mouth with his napkin. “But what kind of a tale is this for our wedding day?” He nudged Annalise playfully. “Next trip, I’m choosing the entertainers. Tell me, you actors, what happened to the bandit prince and the treacherous queen? When and how were they brought to justice?”

  “Only you can tell, my lord king,” I said. “If they succeed in carrying out their wicked plan, there will be no one to swear that the king’s death was not an accident.”

  “Chick-chick-chick-eeeet!”

  The monkey jumped up onto the table once more and grabbed for King Leopold’s wine cup, but the king ignored him.

  “What do you mean, if they succeed?”

  “Pay her no attention, my lord,” Annalise said. “Let’s move on with the circus, and send these actors back where they came from.”

  “My lord king!” Rudolpho cried. “Look!”

  We all followed his pointing finger.

  It was the monkey, pouring a packet of powder into King Leopold’s cup.

  The king snatched the packet from the creature and sniffed at the powder. Then he rose from his chair, toppling over the wineglass as he did so. Dark wine spread like blood on the snow white tablecloth.

  The Circus Phantasmagoria rose to their feet, too, with swords and daggers drawn.

  Chapter 44

  “Guards!” Leopold shouted. “Guards!”

  “They won’t come, my lord,” I said, suddenly seeing all. “They’re asleep, if they aren’t dead. Queen Annalise has drugged them with her wine.”

  King Leopold looked dazed. He shook his head. “Annalise?”

  Prince Ronald pointed his sword straight at Leopold’s heart.

  King Leopold whirled upon the queen, breathing hard from his nostrils.

  “Tell me the truth of this, Annalise,” he said. “Tell me this is not your doing.”

  The Circus Phantasmagoria pressed in closer, forming a ring around the king’s table. Ronald dragged me with him by my collar and threw me against the table.

  The monkey was back on his master’s shoulder, chattering, baring his gruesome teeth, twitching his long tail.

  Clair, I called to my leviathan. I’m in danger.

  I’m coming to you, Mistress!

  No, I said. Instead can you upset the ship?

  “My lord the king,” Annalise cried in a fluttery voice, “I know nothing! These performers must be hired by some foreign power plotting against us!”

  The fire breather exchanged an uneasy glance with the dagger mistress.

  “You see?” I said. “What did I tell you? She’ll betray you, too, in the end.”

  Annalise opened her mouth, then closed it again. The ship groaned and creaked as if it were being compressed by a giant nutcracker. Then it lurched sharply to one side, causing dishes and silver to topple off the table and slide to one wall. The clown fell backward, and so did the fire breather, while Prince Ronald fell forward, nearly crushing me.

  Good, Clair. Good! Do more!

  Queen Annalise, who only tipped over slightly on her cushioned couch, pulled out her small velvet purse and slipped out Bijou. She gave him a kiss and then set him on the floor. He flashed away like a golden bolt of lightning, wriggling his way over the wreckage and out the door of the salon.

  King Leopold saw him go and looked at Annalise with new terror.

  “What in heaven’s name,” he panted. He backed away from Annalise. “What are you?”

  She smiled at her husband. Her charade was over. “Princess of Merlia, by my birth,” she said. “Now queen of Pylander, through your grace.”

  “Soon to be queen of Danelind as well,” the strong man said, lifting Annalise by her waist and kissing her. She drew her arms up around his neck and kissed him back, long and full. The circus members drew in closer.

  The king scrambled sideways to get away from them both. “Treason!” he cried. “Treason and murder! Is there no one to hear?”

  The ship lurched to the other side. Churning waves began hitting the windows of the salon. Up till now the sea had been perfectly calm. The circus members stumbled and fell once again. Out the windows of the salon I could dimly see the thrashing forms of our battling leviathans, gleaming against the dark.

  The fire breather pinioned King Leopold’s arms to his back.

  Annalise turned to me with a face full of malice. “So this is how it ends, little sister,” she said. “I would have made you a queen. See how my love is repaid.”

  There was a loud crack. The fire breather relinquished his grip on the king, who broke away from him with a cry. The fire breather toppled to the ground. There behind him stood Alfonso, looking astonished, holding his wooden sword high.

  “Stop the actor fools!” Ronald cried, but too late. Rudolpho had smashed a heavy chair over the clown’s head, and taken a nasty bite from the monkey as payment.

  The ship rocked once more, snuffing out several lamps in the salon. In the shadowy light I saw the dagger mistress raise her arm to take aim at the king. Where she’d found more knives, I didn’t know. I whipped off my tin crown and flung it in her face as hard as I could. Her knife missed the king, but hit Rudolpho in the arm. Alfonso pounced on her.

  The king recovered his wits enough to draw his own sword just as the acrobat girl came within reach of him, lashing and kicking at him with powerful, precise movements. But the king managed to reach his sword to her throat.

  “Never before have I injured a woman,” he said, panting, “but I will, if you move another inch.”

  And still the ship rocked and reeled in the unseen battle of the leviathans.

  Clair, are you all right?

  I am here, Mistress, was his terse reply.

  It wasn’t just their battle now. Angry winds had roared up, bringing clouds that hid the waning moon, churning up waves that rocked the ship and smashed salon windows. I remembered Clair’s words when I asked him if he’d caused that other storm. It isn’t natural. The ocean abhors it. I wondered, how did the ocean feel when two leviathans waged war?

  La Commedia and the Circus Phantasmagoria lay bruised and beaten amid the shattered glass on the salon floor.

  “Enough!” Prince Ronald roared. He snagged me in one brawny arm and disarmed the king with one fierce stroke of his other, sword-bearing arm. Annalise raised the hem of her skirt and picked her way daintily over bodies and wreckage, following as Ronald dragged us out onto the deck.

  Even Ronald stopped a moment to take in the dreadful sight. Silver blue Clair, thirty feet long, with green eyes flashing, darted his long neck in and out to avoid and counterstrike lethal blows from amber Bijou. His horns dripped with seafoam and blood, his whiskers were plastered against his scales. And still Bijou struck, and struck again, almost faster than the eye could see, knocking my beautiful beast back, and farther back, in the water.

  “Heaven help us,” the king breathed, and crossed himself.

  Winds buffeted and rain lashed against The Starlight.

  “You shall not prevail, Evelyn,” Annalise said. “Relinquish now and I will spare you. Otherwise, you and the king die together.”

  Rain pelted us all, soaking gowns and wedding clothes. Only bare-chested Ronald seemed unaffected by the storm. If anything, it animated him. He herded the king and me into a pathetic pair, poking his long sword at us both until we cowered against the outer wall of the salon, while behind Ronald, the battle in the sea still raged.

  King Leopold placed himself between me and Ronald’s blade.

  “Choos
e!” Annalise cried to me. “Or the beast dies, and you with him.”

  How could I kill Clair? What did I dare do? I reached once more for the charms around my neck. Love had abandoned me. Luck couldn’t reach me here. And snakebite? I never needed that one in the first place. Silly schoolgirl, to think gypsy trinkets could ever do anything, much less help me now!

  I was beaten. I opened my mouth to give Annalise my answer.

  Then Ronald’s sword clattered to the slippery deck and slid under the rails and out to sea.

  Something had dealt a crushing blow to his shoulder.

  That something was Aidan Moreau.

  Chapter 45

  Aidan?

  Ronald bared his teeth and turned to face his new opponent.

  “You?” he snarled. He remembered the Fallardston coach.

  Aidan laced his fingers together and swung his double fist against Prince Ronald’s face, sending him staggering across the deck to the ship’s rail, his nose streaming blood. Aidan followed quickly, bringing both elbows smashing down onto the bandit prince’s chest.

  Our moment of hope was short-lived. Ronald roused himself and met Aidan’s next attack by sliding his legs out from under him. With a roar he dropped onto his knees on Aidan’s belly and set his massive fists pounding Aidan’s chest and face. Aidan kicked to fight him off, and the king lunged forward to help, but Annalise met his move with a bright little dagger pressed into his belly.

  “You witch,” the king spat at her. “To think I ever gave you my heart.”

  “Silence,” Annalise said.

  I sprang to Ronald and flung myself at his back, gripping around his neck with one hand and clawing at his eyes and face with my other. He reached his arms back and plucked me off easily, but that moment’s pause gave Aidan a chance to get back onto his feet. I ran back into the salon to find a weapon, picking my way over groaning bodies. When I returned the tide had turned. Aidan had Ronald backed up against the rail once more, smashing blow after blow on his face and chest.

  I handed Aidan the blade I’d found, and he held it to Ronald’s throat.