Lions in the Garden

  They’d searched my room.

  “It saddens me that you didn’t care for my present. I spent a month deciding on the perfect engagement gift for you, and what do you do with it? You smash it to pieces.” He handed my father a glass of wine. Radek drank deeply from his glass. His eyes carefully followed the guard as he approached me. “You can’t trust the blacksmith, Mila. I don’t know how many times I have to say it before you’ll believe me. He was involved from the beginning. He used you to—”

  “No, he didn’t!” I turned to my father. “Do you want more evidence? Do you know why Marc was at the ball? He was there because I invited him. I personally gave him an invitation.”

  “Why would you do that?” Radek asked.

  “Because he saved my life in the woods when I was running away!”

  My father’s eyebrows crinkled together, becoming one bushy white caterpillar. “When did you run away?”

  “The morning before Radek returned from Austria.”

  “Is that how you met him?” Radek placed his empty glass on the table. “Not that day in Vladislav Hall? You lied to me?”

  “What does it matter when I met him? The point is Marc saved me. He’s innocent and I demand that he be released.” I glared at my father. “You have to let him go.”

  “I don’t have to do anything,” my father said. “The only two witnesses to the crimes committed are you and Urek Havlet. Jiri cannot testify because he’s dead.”

  “You’re willing to believe a criminal over me? Over your own daughter? What’s wrong with you?”

  “Of course not.” My father sighed. He looked sideways at the duke. “But your judgment is clouded, Ludmila, and therefore it cannot be trusted. Don’t you see? It’s obvious you have feelings for the blacksmith’s son and you will say whatever’s necessary to secure his freedom.”

  I shook my head. “Tell me the truth for once in your life. Admit it. Marc’s arrest has nothing to do with me. You’re hunting Protestants. Just like Radek was.”

  “Ludmila, please.” Radek ran his hand through his light hair. “This blacksmith has tainted your mind. You aren’t thinking clearly and the absurdity of what you’re implying is completely—”

  “I saw you the other day, Radek. I was there at the village when you killed the Protestant,” I said. “You beheaded the poor pastor with a sword. You. Beheaded. Him. I saw the whole thing. There’s no need to continue with your gentlemanly charade. I know what you really are.”

  Radek’s blue eyes narrowed. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “I saw you!”

  “The man was a criminal. Just like Marc Sýkora.”

  “So we’re beheading people in the streets now?” I turned on my father. “Why not? Let’s get rid of your sham trials in the square and we’ll run our swords through whoever we please. Heads can roll. Is that your form of justice? You’re the chancellor of the entire kingdom! How could you do this?”

  “Calm down,” my father said.

  “Tell me,” I demanded. “I want to hear you say it. Did you know what Radek was doing? Did you know he was slaughtering Protestants?”

  My father glanced at the duke.

  “Say it,” I pleaded.

  “You do not understand the political climate outside the castle’s walls,” he said. “The situation is dire. You have no idea what’s at stake.”

  “Lives are at stake!”

  “What you did in the town square was unacceptable. If you value your home and your family, then you’ll be quiet and stay inside the castle walls. Keep your nose out of things that do not concern you.”

  “You knew,” I whispered.

  All of my anger deflated as he confirmed what I’d already suspected. Of course my father knew what Radek was doing. Radek would hardly eat a meal without my father’s approval or support. Marc had even hinted at it—didn’t he tell me about a radical group inside Rudolf’s inner circle? The extremists who were committing acts of violence against the Protestants without the king’s knowledge?

  I licked my lips. “Does the king know you two are slaughtering his subjects?”

  My father swiped at his wineglass. The crystal crashed against the wall in an explosion of glass and liquid. “That is enough! Enough! You will go to your room and stay there! You will marry Radek, and the blacksmith will hang on Saturday morning.”

  “I will not marry him!” My scream echoed off the walls and out the open window.

  “Ludmila, please.” Radek glanced at Václav as he walked toward me with his hands up. “You must calm down. I didn’t want to tell you this, but the members of the king’s court are whispering about you.”

  “I don’t care what they say about me—”

  “Your father and I are trying our best to keep the situation under control.”

  “What situation?”

  Radek sighed. “You, as you previously admitted, invited the Sýkora brothers to Rudolf’s ball. Your fainting episode is being considered extremely suspicious in that it caused a diversion and the jewels were stolen immediately afterward. There are other factors, too—like how you were unharmed by a ruthless gang. It’s all very suspicious, Ludmila. Your father and I are trying to keep your name cleared. We don’t want you to be tried for the crime, too. Now, I’ve forgiven your transgressions with regard to the blacksmith’s son. I love you and I want everything to be back as it was. However, you will not be given the same leniency with the court if we are not on your side.”

  I clasped my wrists together and held them up to Radek. “Do it. I’d rather be arrested and hanged than stay here with you two. I will not marry you, Radek.”

  Radek sighed and downed the rest of his wine.

  “I told you that wouldn’t work,” my father said. “She can’t be reasoned with. She’s just like her mother.”

  It felt like a slap to the face. Just like her mother.

  My father motioned to the guard by the door. I hadn’t realized it was Stephan. “Bring him in.”

  Stephan bowed and then disappeared. A few seconds later, he returned—shoving another guard into the room. I didn’t understand what was happening until Stephan shoved the guard to his knees in front of my father’s desk.

  I recognized the man. He was the guard I’d given the diamonds to—the one who’d let me out of the gate that morning.

  The guard squeezed his eyes shut.

  My father placed his hand on the man’s shoulders. “Ludmila, this is your last chance. You will not leave the castle grounds again. You will forget the blacksmith’s son. You will not breathe another word of hope or revolution to the Protestants. You will marry Radek and be a faithful, dutiful wife.”

  Radek frowned, but he handed a knife to my father. It was elongated and slender, almost the size of a fire poker, with a sharply pointed end. My father accepted the weapon like he was being handed a second glass of wine.

  “Fine, I get it.” My eyes were glued to the sobbing guard. “I won’t cause any more problems. Let the man go.”

  “No, I don’t think you do. Perhaps a visual will help you understand how serious I am.” My father walked behind the kneeling guard and, without hesitation, he plunged the sharp point into the man’s back. Right through his heart.

  The guard slumped to the floor without crying out—he didn’t have the chance to.

  I ran to him, but Stephan caught me from behind. Blood poured from the guard’s chest wound and pooled onto the stone floor.

  “You’re a monster,” I whispered. “You both are.”

  My father nudged the dead body with his shoe. “If you don’t start listening to what I say, then this is what will happen to Branka and the other Sýkora brother. And anyone else who comes into contact with you.” My father breathed in deeply like he was admiring a flower bouquet. “Maybe we should just kill Marc now,” my father said to Radek. “To be done with it.”

  “No!” I stepped forward, but Stephan yanked me back. He squeezed my arms.

  “No.?
?? Radek shook his head at my father. “I don’t think that’s smart. One, it would ignite those ignorant fools outside. I’m afraid they look to him as some sort of symbol and it would turn him into a martyr. The boy’s death needs to be handled with extreme care. We don’t need to throw oil on the flames. But more importantly, to me at least, I don’t want him dead yet.”

  Radek lifted his eyes to mine. “I want the blacksmith to know, before he’s hanging from the end of a rope, that Ludmila and I are married.”

  “What are you talking about?” I whispered. My father had said Marc’s hanging was scheduled for Saturday morning. That was two days from today. How could Radek and I be married by then?

  My stomach dropped. It felt like I was free falling—like I’d finally jumped from the balcony.

  Radek placed the empty glass on the fireplace’s mantel and smiled. “Haven’t you heard the good news? We are to be married tomorrow night at Saint Vitus Cathedral.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Two guards escorted me to my room. I waited to see if they would position themselves outside my door, but they didn’t. What was the point? The castle’s walls were impenetrable and dozens of eyes were on every gate. There was no need to watch my door. Besides, my father knew I would never do anything foolish and risk Branka’s life.

  Branka.

  I needed to get her safely out of the castle. But how? And how was I going to get Marc out of Daliborka Tower in two days? I needed to get word to Henrik, but it would be impossible to get to town. There was so much to do. I needed help.

  I needed to see the king.

  I didn’t think I was being followed, but I knew the castle’s walls had eyes. I turned down the unfamiliar corridor and saw Marion and one of the king’s guards standing outside the door that led to Rudolf’s chambers.

  “The king is not entertaining guests,” Marion said before I reached the end of the hallway.

  “I have to speak with him.”

  Marion yawned. The guard stared straight ahead like I was invisible.

  “It’s important,” I said.

  “It always is.” Marion pointed behind me. “Move along now before I have you removed.”

  “King Rudolf!” I yelled at the door. “Please! It’s Ludmila!”

  Marion’s face went bright red. “Remove her!”

  The guard quickly snatched my arm and pulled me away from the king’s door.

  “King Rudolf!” I screamed again.

  The guard yanked me backward and I fell to the ground. He dragged me by the arm across the marble floor.

  The king’s door opened. He looked irritated until his eyes fell on me. His face softened and then flushed red with anger. “Unhand her,” the king commanded.

  Marion sank to his knees. “Your Majesty.”

  The guard dropped my arm like I was on fire. I scrambled to my knees and crawled forward, stopping at the king’s feet. “Please, Your Majesty, I need to speak with you.”

  The king pulled me to my feet. “Are you all right, my dear?”

  I bowed my head. “Yes, thank you. I have to speak with you. It’s very important. Please.”

  Rudolf gave Marion an icy glare. “If I ever see you treat Lady Nováková in such a manner again, I will have your head on a spike.”

  “I apologize, Your Majesty.” Marion’s eyes went to his shoes.

  “Come in, Ludmila.” Rudolf led me inside his chambers.

  We walked past an enormous bed filled with silver satin pillows and an odd white-furred bearskin coverlet to the seating area near the open terrace. The drapes were pulled back, revealing a water fountain with a statue of a marble lion spraying water from its mouth. Beyond the fountain were dense tropical trees—like no trees I’d ever seen before—with cobalt blue flowers hanging from the vines. It was the king’s private access to the Royal Gardens.

  “Sit, child, and tell me what this is all about.” Rudolf sat in a velvet-upholstered chair with golden arms and legs.

  I kneeled on the rug before him. “It’s my father and Radek. They’re killing Protestants. I saw Radek behead a pastor in a village and my father killed a guard in his study. My friend Marc Sýkora, was whipped in the town square. He’s innocent, but they want to hang him—”

  “Slow down, my dear.”

  “You have to stop my father and Radek. They are attacking the Protestants, and the Protestants are going to rebel. There’s going to be a war.”

  The king ran his hand over his face, pulling down his sagging jowls. “These are trying times, my dear. Everyone is always fighting over power. Your father has strong allies and the Catholic Church backs him. He receives weekly dispatches from the pope and he plots with my brother, Matthias, behind my back.”

  “You can stop him. You’re the king!” I clasped my hands together. “Please, isn’t there something you can do?”

  Rudolf pointed behind me. “Do you know why I have guards outside my door? Why I don’t leave my chambers anymore? My days are numbered, Ludmila. I am the king in name alone.”

  I lowered my head. I didn’t want him to see my eyes tear up. I felt beaten and helpless—like a cliff near the shore with the waves incessantly crashing against me.

  “Look at me, child.”

  I blinked back the tears and raised my head.

  The king leaned forward. His eyes examined my face like he was searching for something. “You look just like your mother. You have her blue eyes and that shiny black hair.” He smiled sadly.

  “What they’re doing is wrong,” I whispered.

  “It is,” he agreed. “Your mother thought so, too. She sympathized with the Protestants’ cause. So much so that she converted.”

  I glanced up. “My mother converted to Protestantism?”

  The king nodded.

  “When?”

  “About a year before her death.”

  “Why?”

  “Isabella was strongly opposed to the Catholic Church’s views and their lust for power. She craved a simpler life and she believed everyone should be treated equally. She always did what she felt was right, even if it wasn’t the easy choice. Your mother was an extraordinary woman.”

  I wiped my sweaty palms on my skirt. My mother’s beliefs were strong enough that she’d walked away from what was familiar to her. Was everything I’d been told a lie? After what I’d seen these past few weeks, I could understand why she’d converted. But what about me? Could I do the same?

  “Isabella tried to get me to convert to Protestantism, too. I would’ve done so—if it were easier for kings to do such things.” He sighed and his shoulders deflated, making him look incredibly tired. “I do miss her. Perhaps if I had converted ten years ago, like Isabella asked, none of this would be happening.”

  “What should I do?”

  The king tilted his head. “I think you already know, Ludmila. You are your mother’s daughter.”

  I glanced up at Rudolf’s words. I knew what I needed to do, but I couldn’t do it alone. I needed help. Then it hit me.

  Maybe I could get it from the unlikeliest of allies.

  Radek’s blue gown from Vienna was, much like everything about the duke, extravagant. Folds of cobalt silk, satin, and lace flowed from my hips and down to the ground.

  I entered the dining hall extremely dressed up by my standards, but my outfit was hardly out of place. Forty other members of the court buzzed around the giant dining room table in the latest Prague gowns. All eyes fell on me as I entered the cavernous room. Only one pair mattered, though, and he took the bait like a hungry trout.

  “Ludmila.” Radek smiled. “You look exquisite.”

  I bowed, ignoring the sick sensation the act produced in me. He’d taken my appearance at dinner and the wearing of his favorite dress as my peace offering. “Thank you.”

  Radek held me by the shoulders and searched my face with those clear—almost colorless, possibly soulless—blue eyes. “Everything is forgiven?”

  “Yes.”

  “And the
blacksmith?”

  I had to be honest or he wouldn’t believe me. “I pray that you don’t harm Marc, because he’s innocent.”

  Radek’s eyes flashed, but I laid my hand softly on his chest. His heartbeat quickened with my touch.

  “But I understand the errors of my ways,” I said softly. “If you could find it in your heart to forgive me for my transgressions, then I know that, in time, everything will return as it should be.”

  He kissed me on the nose. “I knew you’d come to your senses. I apologize for what happened to the guard in your father’s study. Sometimes your father gets a little . . . heated.”

  My lips parted, but nothing came out.

  “Come, darling, don’t worry about the others,” Radek said, implying the forty members of court who were staring at me like I was one of Rudolf’s exotic creatures. He led me to the table. “Don’t feel uncomfortable. Remember, you’re better than all of them.”

  Radek pulled out my chair.

  My father, in the seat directly across from me, stood and inclined his head with a lifted snowy eyebrow. “Ludmila, it’s nice to see you at the table again. We’ve missed your presence.”

  “Thank you, Father.” I placed my cloth napkin on my lap and tried to relax as servants emerged from the kitchen doors carrying platters of food.

  “What’s on the menu tonight?” My father asked.

  The man beside him answered. “Turtle soup, veal and eel, pheasant—”

  My father snorted. “Again? Can’t they find another way to torture me instead of forcing me to eat the same meal every day?”

  I remembered the very small amount of meat in Henrik’s goulash and had to restrain myself from reaching across the table and strangling my father. Outside the castle, meat was extremely rare, almost nonexistent. The peasants survived on grains and vegetables. And here my father was complaining about veal and pheasant.

  “I just had an uplifting conversation with Marion,” Radek said.

  Why would Radek tell me about his discussion with the king’s aide? I sipped a glass of water. “And?”