Lions in the Garden

  I glanced down at the flowering grounds below. She left me.

  I had to let her go.

  Radek helped me climb back over the balcony. He wrapped his arms around me and whispered in my ear, “I saved you, Ludmila. I saved you from your mother’s weakness.”

  I’d relived the memory of my mother’s death in my nightmare a thousand times. I ran my hand over my face to clear my thoughts.

  I didn’t want to think about the past—the distant or the recent past, which also included Marc. It had been three days since I’d seen him, and I couldn’t stop thinking about how that servant girl, Ruzena, had had her hands on him. It was foolish, but it bothered me. With a long list of items that I wasn’t thinking about, I went to the kitchen to grab an apple and headed to Saint Vitus Cathedral.

  The jaw-dropping cathedral, dedicated to Saint Vitus, was several stories high, with beautiful stained glass windows adorning the space high above the tall arches. I walked along the side aisle, under the crisscrossed golden-vaulted ceiling that made me feel insignificant, straight for the confessional booth.

  I slipped three gold coins in the offering box and pulled open the wooden door. I sat on the covered red satin bench and waited. The adjacent booth’s door creaked opened and I heard the priest take his seat. The screen slid back and the vague outline of the priest appeared behind the darkened grill.

  “Good morning, Father.”

  “Good morning, my lady. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.”

  I made the sign of the cross, touching my forehead, my chest, and each shoulder. “Bless me Father, for I have sinned. It’s been one week since my last confession.”

  “Go ahead, my child.”

  “I have broken the fourth, seventh, and eighth commandments.” My cheeks burned in the darkened booth.

  The priest waited patiently.

  “I broke the seventh commandment when I stole a horse from the king’s stables. Sepia hurt her leg and a thief slit her throat.”

  The priest swallowed. “A thief?”

  “Yes, well, that part goes along with my other sins. I broke the eighth commandment when I lied several times over the course of the last week. Too many to name here.” I spoke quickly, the guilt of my sins tumbling out. “And, finally, I broke the fourth commandment in that I didn’t obey my father. I ran away from the castle a few days ago—that’s when I encountered the thieves who killed my horse.”

  “Why did you run away, my child?”

  “I overheard my father discussing the possibility of offering my hand in marriage to Lord Igor Otto from Moravia.”

  “Marriage is a blessing from God. We should honor our fathers and mothers and obey their wishes, even if we do not agree with them.”

  I dropped my head. “I am heartily sorry for my sins.”

  “Your penance shall be ten Lord’s Prayers and fifteen Hail Marys. I absolve you from all of your sins, my child. Go in peace.”

  “Thank you.” I reached for the door, but stopped. “Father?”

  “Yes, my child?”

  “I’ve been having dreams about my mother.”

  The confessional booth and screen were erected for anonymity, but there was no doubt that the priest knew who I was. I could feel him—like everyone in the castle—go cold behind the grill. My mother was taboo. People in the castle never spoke her name.

  “Suicide is a mortal sin,” he said. “To take away what God has given you is the worst possible offense. It would be best, Ludmila, to wash your hands of that awful memory.”

  A lump formed in my throat when I thought about my mother’s soul forever barred from Heaven. She didn’t love you enough to stay—let her go.

  “Of course. Good-bye, Father.” I exited the booth. Sunrays filtered down from the stained glass windows. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the brightness.

  “It’s good to see you at confession, Ludmila.” My father sat in the front pew in the middle of the chapel. “It warms my heart to see that you’ve become such an exemplary Catholic girl.”

  “Thank you.” I curtsied.

  “Come, sit with me.”

  I walked to his pew and kneeled beside him. A life-sized statue of the martyred King Wenceslas filled the space behind the altar. Next to the statue was a white marble mausoleum that held an underground crypt where the bones of King Wenceslas’s body, along with those of dozens of other famed Bohemian kings, were laid to eternal rest. Of all the Bohemian rulers, King Wenceslas had always been my favorite. I was even named after his grandmother—the famous Saint Ludmila of Bohemia.

  I retrieved my wooden rosary from my pocket and started my Hail Marys, but I couldn’t concentrate. What the priest had said bothered me—I understood the church’s view that my mother’s soul was damned and barred from Heaven, but why did I have to wash myself of the memory? She was still my mother.

  Stop thinking about her. She’s not worth it.

  “You seem troubled,” my father said.

  I shrugged.

  “Tell me.”

  I knew better than to speak of my mother—her memory was too painful for him—so I said the first thing that came to mind. “I don’t want to marry Igor Otto.”

  “Ah, you heard about that.”

  “I can’t—”

  He raised his hand. “No need. I told him no. He’s too old.”

  My breath rushed out of me as a giant burden lifted from my shoulders. I didn’t have to marry Lord Otto, which meant I no longer had to flee to Spain. I could stay in my home. I grinned and wrapped my arms around my father’s neck. “Oh, thank you.”

  “You’re most welcome, but your nuptials must be discussed soon. You’re already seventeen.”

  Marc flashed before my eyes, but I quickly dismissed the silly thought. He was the blacksmith’s son and a Protestant. Those were two traits my father would never overlook, especially the Protestantism.

  “Now it’s my time to confess my sins.” My father kissed me on the cheek and headed toward the confessional booth.

  I finished my ten Lord’s Prayers and fifteen Hail Marys and walked through the cathedral’s Golden Gate. Outside, above the doors, thousands of pieces of glass made up the Bohemian mosaic that depicted the Last Judgment along with a portrayal of Charles IV’s coronation. It was my favorite artwork in the castle grounds. I’d spent hours in the sprawling courtyard watching the sunlight reflect off the tiles.

  I walked through the main castle feeling almost weightless now that I no longer had to flee to Spain or marry Lord Igor Otto. I was free of both. I should do something nice for my father to thank him for refusing Otto’s request.

  I turned down the stone corridor, and the king, followed by a small entourage, emerged from one of the numerous connecting hallways.

  “Your Majesty.” I lowered myself as close to the ground as I could, ignoring the shooting pain in my neck, and silently waited to be acknowledged by the king.

  Rudolf II, the Holy Roman Emperor and King of Bohemia, stopped an arm’s length away from me. His appearance was a surprise. I hadn’t seen the king in more than four months. He’d become more reclusive as each day passed and the country fell into deeper turmoil.

  According to court gossip, the king was slowly descending into madness—suffering from delusions and incoherent ramblings. Rudolf had recently refused numerous heads of state and important political visitors, desiring instead the company of astrologers, alchemists, seers, and mathematicians—many of whom had been deemed “heretical” by the Catholic Church. If that wasn’t bad enough, Rudolf’s ever-increasing desire to find the elusive philosopher’s stone had become his number one obsession despite the church and the Ottoman Empire threatening the kingdom from all sides. Rudolf had become the proverbial ostrich with his head in the sand.

  The king’s hooded eyes brightened. “Ludmila Nováková.”

  “Good afternoon, Your Majesty.”

  “It’s great to see you, my dear. What’s on your agenda today?”


  “I’ve just left confession and now I’m on my way to the library.”

  “Wonderful.” He glanced at his entourage before lowering his voice to a whisper. “I shall tell you a secret. Two days ago, I received a package from Italy from a man named Galileo. The package contained an instrument that allows one to see the stars in the night’s sky by peering through an elongated tube with a piece of glass connected to the end.”

  “That is fascinating.”

  “Indeed. You should visit the Astrological Tower and test it out, my dear. Your beloved mother would’ve appreciated it and I know you will, too. Tell Marion to allow you in whenever you wish.”

  “Thank you, Your Majesty. I most certainly will.” My heart clenched when he mentioned my mother, but the king was right—she would’ve loved stargazing with this mystery instrument. The king was the only one at court who ever mentioned my mother. My father even avoided the topic at all costs. But not the king—he spoke fondly of her every time he saw me.

  Don’t get sentimental.

  “Enjoy the rest of the day.” Rudolf smiled and walked away. His entourage of men followed several steps behind him.

  What the king described sounded like something from a fairy tale. An instrument to view the stars? I didn’t doubt him. Rudolf and his chief astronomer, Johannes Kepler, took the study of the stars seriously. I’d have to pay a visit to the tower to see the instrument myself.

  Once the king was down the hall, I resumed my journey to the library. Outside and across the street, I entered Vladislav Hall and climbed the wide steps of Rider’s Staircase. Mounted knights used this side entrance because the stairs were broad and shallow enough that their horses could enter the jousting tournaments held in the enormous hall.

  A familiar voice echoed off the vaulted ceiling. I climbed the steps and stopped at the entrance to the immense hall. The ceilings were vaulted and sunlight shone in through the eastern wall of windows. The enormity of the gallery was always breathtaking, but what was more astounding was seeing Marc Sýkora in a discussion with Stephan, a high-ranking general in the king’s army.

  “There are thirty-five in the lot.”

  “How long would it take if we needed an additional fifty?”

  “A week, maybe two,” Marc said.

  “Perfect. I’ll take an additional fifty,” Stephan said.

  They looked small standing under the towering vaulted ceiling. Stephan shook Marc’s hand and walked toward the Rider’s Staircase.

  The wiry general had curly brown hair tied in a loose ponytail. His squared jaw had a gash that ran from the corner of his mouth through the cleft in his chin. He looked intimidating, but Stephan had a friendly demeanor that you wouldn’t expect from one of the highest-ranking officers in the king’s army.

  Stephan bowed when he saw me. “Lady Nováková.”

  “Good afternoon, Stephan.”

  I waited for the general to disappear down the staircase before I entered the room. “I thought you never came to the castle.”

  Marc raised a dark eyebrow. “I can’t let Henrik have all of the fun, can I?”

  “I suppose not.”

  “I was hoping I’d run into you.”

  “Is that so?” I walked to the table piled high with several types of swords. “What do we have here?”

  “The finest steel in Bohemia.”

  “It looks like enough steel to quell a rebellion,” I said.

  “That, I know nothing about.” The side of Marc’s mouth lifted into a smile. “I receive an order from the castle and I fill it. It’s as simple as that.”

  I picked up a sword, but I could barely lift it from the table. “My God, these are heavy.”

  Marc relieved me of the weighty metal. “Heavy and not for a lady.”

  “What’s a lady supposed to use?”

  “Nothing, but I’ll admit—you didn’t look completely out of place with that dagger the other day. I’m not certain if I should be proud of you or worried about you.”

  “Why would you be worried about me?”

  He didn’t answer. He only smiled.

  “I have to be able to protect myself,” I said.

  Marc crossed his arms over his chest. “These swords are too big for you, but I could teach you how to use something smaller, like a dagger, if you were interested.”

  “That would be kind.”

  “I’m glad you came by the shop the other day. I’m looking forward to the revealing of the crown jewels tomorrow night,” Marc said. “Henrik and Jiri send their thanks, as well.”

  A flush of pleasure rushed through me—I would get to see him again tomorrow. “Your eye has healed.”

  “The bruise? That wasn’t too bad. After I dropped you off at the gate that night, Henrik and I had an encounter at the tavern.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes. Over our dumb little brother.”

  “That’s what happened to your eye? A fight?”

  “Of course,” he said. “What did you think happened?”

  I inspected the swords, unable to lift my eyes. Extravagant thoughts of Marc’s bruise resulting from rolling around with Ruzena had haunted me. To be honest, I should’ve been more concerned that I was having multiple daydreams about Marc.

  I wasn’t. “I didn’t know what happened to you.”

  Marc tilted his head. “Were you worried about me?”

  I didn’t answer.

  His eyes crinkled as he grinned. “My brothers and I had a little too much to drink—me more than normal. I was unusually riled up that night. Words were said. Fists were thrown. Trust me, it was nothing extraordinary.” He squeezed the hilt of a sword and the muscles in his forearm flexed. “I haven’t found out anything about Spain yet.”

  “My father declined Lord Igor Otto’s marriage proposal.”

  “That’s good news.”

  “It is, but sooner or later, he’s not going to decline a proposal.”

  I didn’t want to end up like my mother. The beautiful Isabella who’d hated her life so much that she couldn’t bear to live another moment of it. Who, even with a ten-year-old daughter, felt the best escape from an unhappy existence was to end it violently in a bathtub.

  “Will you run away if you get another undesirable marriage proposal?”

  I shrugged. “What if your family sold you to an old hag who lived in another kingdom? One you never met. Or loved. How would you feel?”

  Marc stood close to me. “I’d be upset. I hope to be desperately in love with the woman I marry.”

  My body felt paralyzed in a trance.

  “But you shouldn’t go into the woods by yourself,” he said.

  “I can’t stay here.”

  Dark eyes stared into mine. His lips parted to say something or maybe to—

  “Ludmila, what are you doing in here?” Radek strolled into Vladislav Hall.

  I exhaled.

  Marc lowered his voice. “Meet me by the gate at eleven o’clock tonight.”

  “What?” My heart threatened to explode out of my chest.

  “Ludmila?” Radek repeated.

  I turned away from Marc and curtsied at the duke. “Good afternoon, Radek.”

  Marc bowed to the duke. Had Radek seen us in a hushed conversation? I could only imagine what we looked like standing so close, whispering to each other. What if we had—

  “Who are you?” Radek glanced up at Marc’s towering figure.

  “This is Marc Sýkora,” I said.

  Radek ignored me. “What is your business here?”

  “I’m the blacksmith,” Marc said. “I’m delivering arms to the castle.”

  “I’ve never seen you before.”

  “My brother Henrik normally delivers the weekly shipment, but he was unable to come today. I took his place.” Marc’s voice was laced with the steel of his swords.

  “Well, I suppose that explains your presence.” Radek ran a fingertip along a sword’s sharp blade. Sky blue eyes landed on me. “But what are you d
oing here?”

  “I was on my way to the library.”

  Radek regarded the corridor at the opposite end of the gallery that led to the king’s library. “How unfortunate you didn’t make it.”

  I opened my mouth and closed it. I had no explanation for being caught in deep conversation with the handsome blacksmith. Besides the obvious.

  “It’s my fault,” Marc said. “I asked the lady for directions. It’s my first time inside the castle. It’s confusing. She was only being kind.” Marc didn’t look at me as he lied on my behalf.

  Radek eyed Marc. “You made these?”

  “I did.”

  “Interesting. These swords are important. The castle must have a strong supply of weapons to protect ourselves from insurgents.” Radek lifted a sword from the table and pointed the blade at Marc’s chest. “And how are you with a sword, blacksmith?”

  “Excellent.”

  The blade hovered inches from Marc’s heart. Marc appeared calm, completely unfazed by the duke’s behavior.

  Surely Radek wouldn’t hurt Marc, would he? For an awful moment, I didn’t know what would happen. The tension in the air was palpable. I stepped forward. I didn’t want either of them to get hurt.

  Radek inclined his head politely before he lowered the sword to his side. “Perhaps one day I’ll be fortunate enough to see your excellent sword-fighting skills.”

  “Maybe one day you will.”

  “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must escort Lady Nováková to the Royal Gardens for an afternoon walk.”

  Marc’s eyes shifted to me. His final words replayed in my head: Meet me by the gate at eleven o’clock tonight. I nodded.

  Radek extended his hand. Marc watched as I placed my hand in Radek’s and we walked toward the king’s Royal Gardens.

  “I forgot to tell you how exquisite you look, Ludmila,” Radek said, louder than necessary. “Is that one of the gowns I bought for you in Vienna?”

  Radek knew it wasn’t one of the Vienna dresses—I hadn’t worn any of them yet—but the claim on me was crystal clear. As if it needed to be verbalized for any of us. A blacksmith could never win, in any sense of the word, against a duke.