CHAPTER 30

THE WIDE GATES SWUNG OPEN AND THE Hatmaker carriage sailed into the palace courtyard. Alone inside it, Cordelia hugged the hatbox, feeling rattly right down to her bones.

She stroked the crinkled lid of the hatbox. It had saved her from the sea when she was a baby. She hoped it would help her save her family now.

A frilly red footman opened the door to the carriage. Cordelia poked her head out and saw twenty silver-and-black soldiers lined up outside the palace doors. Her heart gave a thud, like a warning drum.

She climbed out, still holding the hatbox against her chest. The soldiers all stood to attention. She was relieved that none of them seemed to be about to arrest her.

Cordelia looked up at Jones in the driver’s seat. He winked down at her.

“I have come to deliver the Peace Hat to the princess,” Cordelia said to the footman.

The footman reached to take the hatbox from her, but she held onto it.

“A Hatmaker always carries the hat,” she told him, trying to sound as commanding as her aunt. “And this hat must be hand-delivered to Her Royal Highness.”

At the word “Hatmaker,” one of the silver-and-black soldiers twitched, but the footman nodded to two guards and they pushed open the golden palace doors. Tummy as fluttery as if she had swallowed a dozen Waltz Moths, Cordelia walked inside.

“I’ll be waiting right here, Miss Dilly!” Jones called after her.

The palace was quiet and empty. The footman led her quickly along the dim corridors. There were no jeweled ladies or adorned courtiers waiting to gaze at the hatbox. All the way to the throne room Cordelia only glimpsed one maid, who scurried out of sight. Royal portraits frowned down from every wall.

She whispered to herself: Remember what you are made of, Cordelia Hatmaker!

Before the doors to the throne room, ten guards glinted. They peeled apart as the footman approached. He opened the doors and bowed Cordelia inside.

The throne room was chilly and cavernous. At the far end of the vast space, Cordelia could see a small figure sitting in a golden chair, swamped by a heavy red robe.

Cordelia walked forward. It seemed to take a very long time to get closer to the throne.

Princess Georgina’s feet did not reach the floor and her face was as pale as the ice-white collar around her neck. Behind her, a wall of silver-and-black guards stood stone-faced and staring.

Cordelia bowed. She wished the satin bow on top of the hatbox would stop jiggling every time she shivered.

“Your Highness,” she said, glad her voice came out strong. “I have come to deliver the Peace Hat to you, faithfully fulfilling the command you gave to the Hatmaker family.”

“Oh, excellent!” the princess cried, her pale face perking up. “I have been so anxious for the Peace Clothes to arrive. Yours is the first!”

She shed her heavy robe like an old snakeskin and jumped to her feet.

Cordelia tried to hide her surprise as the princess hurried forward, eager-eyed, and took the hatbox out of her hands. She tugged the ribbon loose and took the lid off the box.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, lifting the magnificent hat. “It is a marvelous creation! You Hatmakers are all so clever.”

The princess admired the hat from different angles and Cordelia watched tensely. Her Highness seemed pleased. She raised the hat over her head and Cordelia, unable to wait a second longer, burst out, “Please can I have my family back?”

The princess paused, the hat hovering. She frowned at Cordelia. “Back from where?”

“From the Tower! All the Makers were taken there!” she said, forgetting to call the princess “Your Highness.” “When you had them arrested.”

“Arrested?” the princess repeated, seeming confused.

“Yes! This morning, the soldiers came and …” Cordelia felt her nose prickle hot. She gritted her teeth and willed herself not to cry.

With a BANG, the doors at the end of the vast room slammed open and a voice rang out: “Princess! DO NOT PUT ON THE HAT!”