Chapter 10
“I’m sick to death of the color green,” Janna said under her breath the next morning as she dusted the throne room.
Everything in the Fern Queen’s castle was green. The curtains were green; the rugs were green; the vases, pictures, furniture, bowls, and linens were green. Even the rags for cleaning were green.
It was tastefully done. There were stripes of different hues, dark squares that alternated with pale ones, leafy patterns with flowers providing accent colors, geometric designs—the variations went on and on, but it didn’t make any difference to Janna. They were all basically green.
She dusted the queen’s favorite painting with disgust. It was a large portrayal of fern fronds tossing in a wind. There were several different types of ferns in the painting and their particular shades of green had been painstakingly recreated.
“Makes me want to vom—”
“She wants you,” growled a fernman from the door, and Janna sighed, even though she’d been expecting the summons.
The Fern Queen always ate a leisurely breakfast in her sitting room while lounging on a plush forest-green sofa. She had a selection of beautiful green nightgowns with accompanying robes that nobody but the fernpeople who were allowed in her private chambers ever got to see.
Janna suspected that most mornings the vain woman called for her because she wanted to show off those nightgowns and robes. Today was different. The queen was in a rage. Janna could hear her as soon as she reached the long hallway that led to the royal suite, located on the main floor of the castle.
There were several rooms in the suite. Janna followed the sound of voices to the sitting room, her favorite because it had wide windows that overlooked several of the side gardens. Occasionally, she had caught a glimpse of Petten working. She didn’t get a chance this morning.
“This is disgusting, absolutely disgusting. Take it away,” the queen said as she threw the contents of a small glass into the face of one of her ladies-in-waiting.
The fernwoman obeyed instantly. She took away the medicine that was dripping down her face and seemed glad of the opportunity to leave.
“What’s wrong?” asked Janna, who knew one of the things the Fern Queen liked about her was her outspokenness. This morning was no exception.
“You are the only one who has asked me that, dear,” the queen said with a self-pitying groan. “I have suffered throughout the night from an upset stomach, and these idiots can do nothing to help me.”
“If you would take a spoonful of the medicine—” warily began the highest-ranking fernwomen.
“It tastes foul,” snapped the Fern Queen. “I will not be poisoned on top of everything else. The meat was not cooked thoroughly last night. That is the only possible explanation. Cook will be punished.”
“Did anyone else eat the meat?” asked Janna calmly.
“Probably, why should I care?” said the queen, rubbing her stomach tenderly.
“If they got sick too, it was the meat. If they didn’t get sick, it wasn’t the meat.”
The Fern Queen did not appreciate this common-sense approach to her problem. Janna saw the bright green eyes narrow to slits, but she couldn’t stop herself.
“Why don’t you mix the medicine in honey or fruit nectar to make it taste better?”
She made the suggestion and then braced herself, waiting for the angry woman to shout at her. However, she had forgotten something. It was the Fern Queen she was dealing with, not an ordinary person. When the queen’s temper was at its worst, her voice oozed sweetness.
“Every word becomes a dart dipped in sweety-sweet syrup and then thrown into you where it will hurt the most,” was how Janna had described it to Petten and Alissa.
Usually, she did everything in her power to avoid such times, but she was in for it now. Not even being the queen’s favorite would help her after an all-night stomachache. Besides, the Fern Queen was beginning to enjoy herself. That was a bad sign.
“I have just had the most marvelous idea. You will start helping Cook in the kitchen, Janna dear. Clearly, you have had more than enough experience in the appreciation of good food. It will be educational if you assist in its preparation as well as its consumption.”
Janna seethed while the Fern Queen glanced pointedly at her waistline.
“Besides, that will take care of Cook too,” the smiling queen said in a voice that fairly dripped syrup. “You see, she loves her privacy more than anything else in the world, but I can’t let her keep it when she makes such big mistakes, can I?”
Straightening on her sofa, the queen clapped her hands. The fernman standing outside the room stepped in and bowed.
“Take Janna to the kitchen and inform Cook that she will assist her from now on, except for the times when I need her myself. Make sure Cook understands that Janna is to stay in the kitchen constantly.”
The fernman motioned to Janna, and she followed him out the door, but as she left, she heard the Fern Queen order one of her ladies-in-waiting, “Mix that medicine in undiluted peach nectar and bring it to me.”
The queen might be punishing Janna for the suggestion, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to try it.
Wretched woman!
Janna glowered the whole way to the kitchen. The Fern Queen’s remarks were cruel and unfair. She and Petten and Alissa worked hard every day, but they weren’t given enough food. That was the truth of the matter, and she had lost a little weight. She had. Her waistline was smaller than it had been. It was.
Several angry tears rolled down her cheeks, shocking her. A quick measure of stern self-talk was in order. Don’t listen to what that woman says. You know she mixes a lie with partial truth. She’s very skillful at it, but that doesn’t stop the lie from being a lie.
Cook was standing by the cutting board in the kitchen chopping up a piece of lamb. She was a heavyset woman with the dull eyes all fernpeople shared and more gray in her hair than brown. The green veins in her arms were particularly thick. They resembled nothing more than fat green worms, the sluggish ones that don’t move much and only exist to make people feel sick. That had always been Janna’s opinion anyway.
The fernman gruffly explained the girl’s presence. Cook scowled heavily, then seemed to shrug the situation off. With a grunt, she put her new assistant to work.
Five minutes later, Janna chortled happily under her breath. Working in the kitchen was going to be wonderful. She had two carrots in a pocket already and planned to sneak a third before long. Their food problem was solved.
Despite her complaints that morning, the Fern Queen ate extremely well. Those high in the castle hierarchy ate almost as well. Even the lower levels ate well, and every bit of the good food came from Cook. Before two weeks were over, Janna was praising the sullen woman’s talents every chance she got, though she knew better than to say anything to the Fern Queen, who liked all admiration to be directed toward her. She didn’t care whether it was sincere or not; she soaked it up either way.
Cook was different. If Janna was chattering off the top of her head, she was ignored. If she didn’t really mean what she was saying, she was ignored. Actually, most of the time, she was ignored, but since praise of the food was meant from the bottom of Janna’s hungry stomach, Cook listened then. The fernwoman made very little response; nevertheless, Janna considered it a breakthrough.
The bulges in her pockets got bigger every day as she took more and more food to stretch out the captives’ meager supper. Cook must have noticed the increasingly large bulges, but she never objected, not even when Janna took a thick piece of cooked meat late one afternoon. It was too thick to tear, so they took turns eating their share.
“I would have cut it into three servings, but why take chances? Cook probably wouldn’t have cared, but it wasn’t worth the risk,” she told Alissa and Petten that night.
“We appreciate very much what you have brought us,” Alissa assured her warmly.
“I don’t feel nearly as hungry,” Petten said, eating his portion of the meat in two big bites.
Janna nodded happily. Not only was she eating more and feeling better, but her weight was going down with the frequent small meals. She’d had to tighten her belt two notches.
“Alissa, I hear you were given quite an honor this morning,” she said, changing the subject. “The fernpeople were all talking about it.”
“What happened?” Petten asked when Alissa didn’t respond.
“She redecorated the Fern Queen’s bedroom,” Janna spoke for her friend. “The queen was busy in the throne room, of course—she won’t have anything to do with Alissa. The fernwomen don’t even like to mention Alissa’s name, but somehow the word got out about her decorating abilities, and she was given the job. The Fern Queen showed off the changes to me this afternoon as if they were her ideas.”
“Tell us about it, Alissa,” Petten urged.
“She has dark mahogany furniture. It has been stained and polished beautifully, but the heavier pieces of furniture were crowded together. I had them spread apart and rearranged the pictures. Then I tried a new way of catching back the curtains so more light could come into the room. Finally, I arranged flowers in two crystal vases, though I did not do much there. Sometimes the simplest flower arrangements are the most beautiful. I used those frilly Phyllitis fronds that the Fern Queen loves and accented them with white astilbe blossoms. The fernwomen approved the changes.”
“I’d say they did. They were more excited than I’ve ever seen them, except for Cook, who never gets excited about anything. Honestly, that woman is more like a plant than a person. Are the fernpeople you two work with like that?”
“The man who supervises my work is no plant. He’s too angry to be called anything that passive. He’s an expert gardener, but he doesn’t enjoy his life, and he’s always angry at everybody,” Petten said.
“I am afraid that the women I work with do enjoy their life,” Alissa said sadly. “They idolize the Fern Queen. Their dream is to look like her and move like her, even talk like her. They practice in front of mirrors for hours.”
“Maybe they’ll want to copy you now, especially after your success with the Fern Queen’s room,” Janna said.
She couldn’t imagine anyone being more influenced by the Fern Queen than by Alissa if given the choice. Her friend’s combination of beauty and kindness had profoundly impressed Janna. She wanted to be like her, and she wasn’t above trying to copy how the graceful princess moved. Maybe practicing in front of a mirror—
“They hate me,” Alissa stated with uncharacteristic bluntness, and Janna snapped back to attention.
“They laugh at me and trip me when I walk past them. They mess up work I have completed in order to get me into trouble. It goes beyond jealousy. They lose no opportunity to show that they hate me. It was worse today after I worked on the Fern Queen’s bedroom, much worse. I have never been hated before. I want to go home. I—”
Alissa burst into tears, covering her face with her hands, and Janna and Petten rushed to her side. Janna threw her arms around her, while Petten patted Alissa’s back vigorously, as if he couldn’t think of anything else to do. The two of them were stunned by the outburst.
They were the ones who had complained, day after day after day. Alissa had listened and sympathized, but she’d never let them know how hard her life was.
Janna looked at Petten and spoke the thought in both of their minds. “We have got to get out of here.”
Alissa’s sobs quieted soon. She took her hands from her face and smiled shamefacedly. “I am sorry to be so weak. You are both much stronger than I am.”
Gently, Petten took her hands in his. “No, you are the strongest one.”
When Alissa’s eyes widened, he explained, “You have the deepest faith in the Maker. You talk to him the most, never doubting that he’ll hear you. There is your strength, Alissa, and it is no small matter.”
The beautiful princess smiled at him through her tears, and he smiled back.
Ah ha! It’s about time!
As quietly as she could, Janna moved over to the window to give the budding romance privacy. They’d already been locked in for the night or she would have left the room. At least something’s going right, but poor Alissa. I didn’t know she had it that bad.
Soon, the three friends said good night and settled on their beds, though Janna couldn’t get to sleep. Long after Alissa’s breathing had become slow and rhythmic, she lay awake.
When the moon sent an unusually bright ray through their window slit, Janna raised herself on one elbow and peered into the corner at Petten. He was lying with both hands behind his head, propping it up, while he stared out the window. When she moved, he turned her way. The two of them looked at each other. Each of them knew what the other was thinking, though no words were said.
We have got to get out of here.