Twenty-Six

 

When he heard the babble of female voices approaching, Vasco's courage failed. Instead of huddling in the corner of their bedchamber under his cloak, he dived under the nearest bed. A bed with a sword beneath it, of all things.

Trying to keep himself concealed and quiet while the princesses bustled about was bad enough, until the purple gown he'd seen Bianca wearing only hours before puddled on the floor inches from his face. He couldn't help himself. A glance upwards revealed pale, shapely legs and the underside of the sweetest pair of breasts he'd ever seen. Ancestors help him, but even Dokia's couldn't compare.

Vasco squeezed his eyes shut, but it was too late. The image of Princess Bianca's naked body was branded to the inside of his eyelids. Princess or not, the burning desire that coursed through his body didn't care – he wanted her in every way a man wanted a woman.

He forced himself to think of the dead rats he'd found in the cellar this evening. Rats that had drunk the poisoned wine and died for their crimes.

The slither of silk made him open his eyes again. The purple gown was replaced by one as blue as a summer sky, covering those beautiful legs to the ankle. A pair of matching slippers, embroidered in gold so pale it matched her hair, slapped to the floor. She carefully slid her feet into them.

"Have you seen tonight's fool? He's not in his bed," one of the girls said.

"Not since last night. Perhaps he has given up." The second girl giggled.

A third voice piped up: "Or perhaps he is hiding in this very chamber, thinking to follow us. Search the room!"

Bianca bent over, her face so close to Vasco's that he could feel her breath on his face. Then she brushed his hood forward, covering his face entirely. "Melania, where would he hide? He would need some sort of magic in order to conceal himself in here. If you want to search the room, suit yourself. The rest of us have more important things to do. Like dressing our hair."

"Let me do yours, Bianca!" one of the girls begged.

To Vasco's surprise, he found he could see through the cloak as though it were gossamer thin, instead of thick wool. When an angry face framed with dark hair peered under the bed, he saw her as clearly as he'd seen Bianca. Yet she shook her head in annoyance and moved to the next bed as if she hadn't seen him.

Vasco breathed a sigh of relief.

"Come on, girls. I can see the boats!" a princess called imperiously.

A dozen pairs of feet clad in dancing slippers stampeded to the corner of the room furthest from the windows, where a section of the stone floor tilted up at a strange angle. It was a trapdoor, Vasco realised, with a thin veneer of stone on top to make it look like a normal part of the flagstones. One by one, the girls descended through the hole in the floor.

Crawling out from under the bed, he tried to stay low so they wouldn't see him. He rounded the end of the last bed, only to see the trapdoor closing behind the last princess.

He dived for it, hands outstretched, but he wasn't quick enough. The trapdoor settled among the flagstones as if it had never been. Vasco raked his nails across the stones, to no avail. He didn't know the trick to opening the secret door.

He sat back on his heels, anger and despair warring within him. He should have been faster. Now he would waste another night.

As if by magic, the trapdoor rose.

"What are you doing?" Melania's voice demanded.

"I forgot my fan," Bianca said.

That was all the warning Vasco got before the trapdoor was thrown open and she burst out of the hole in the floor. She raced past him as if she couldn't see him, presumably in search of her fan.

Vasco took his chance and propelled himself through the hole in the floor. Rough steps had been cut into the stone, leading down into the darkness. With one hand on the damp, stone wall, he followed them down to where he could see a light flickering.

One of the princesses held a torch aloft, her face scrunched up in annoyance. "Do we have to wait for her?" the dark-haired girl, Melania, asked.

Another girl put a hand on her shoulder. "Yes, we do. It will take all of us to break the curse. Without her, we are only eleven. The spell calls for twelve princesses to free the twelve princes. Any fewer and they will still be trapped."

Melania grumbled something under her breath, then fell silent.

"I'm coming!" Bianca called from above.

All eyes suddenly turned toward Vasco, too quickly for him to hide, yet none of the girls reacted to the sight of him. They continued to stare expectantly at the steps behind him.

Figuring that the torch had blinded them so much that they couldn't see him, Vasco relaxed. It was only a moment before Bianca came down the steps, painted fan in one hand and a candle in the other. She walked to his side, so close she brushed his cloak, and waved the fan at her sisters. "See? I told you I would be quick. Ooh, are those the boats?"

As one, the girls turned away from her to stare at the lake.

Vasco couldn't believe none of the girls had seen him. Not even Bianca, and she'd touched him. Perhaps the cloak truly did make him invisible, like Kun had said. Still, it wouldn't do to be reckless. He waited for Bianca and her candle to lead the way before he followed, several steps behind.

The stone path was uneven and he stumbled frequently, wishing he dared to walk closer to the light she held. If only the world were a different place, where a soldier could walk arm in arm with a princess as equals. But it was not to be.

His distraction was almost his undoing. The path curved, but he had not seen it, and he fell headlong over a pile of rocks. The cloak's hood slipped from his head.

A moment later, Bianca cried out, "My light!"

The candle rolled down the path toward Vasco. Impossibly, the flame hadn't been extinguished. Which meant that if Bianca came chasing it, she would spot him instantly.

Vasco forced himself to his feet, pulling the cloak closed around him once more, as the candle came to a stop where he had lain only moments before. He edged along the path, which was scarcely wide enough for one, let alone two.

Bianca rounded the corner, too intent on her candle to notice her cloak brushing against his.

Vasco experienced a mad desire to reach out and wrap his arms around her, bringing her body against his and...then what? She would hardly consent to a kiss. He clenched his hands at his sides to stop himself from doing something else stupid.

"Must hurry...don't want to miss the boat," she murmured to herself as she passed.

Though he was certain the words weren't for him, Vasco obeyed them anyway, stumbling down the path to reach the other girls. More confident in his invisibility, he dared to stand closer than before.

"What is she doing? They are almost here!" Melania muttered.

Vasco followed the girl's gaze to the lake. The same boats he had seen vanish into the mist the previous night now approached the shore. A lantern hung at one end, while a dark-cloaked figure poled the boat at the other end.

The hair on the back of Vasco's neck prickled. Whoever was concealed by those cloaks brought an ill wind with them.

The first of the boats reached the shore and its captain leaped onto the sand, holding onto the lantern post so that the boat did not drift away. He let his hood fall back, revealing hair as long and pale as Bianca's. "Good evening, my beautiful princesses." He flashed a brilliant smile before bowing low. "Is it true that there are twelve of you this evening?" The eagerness in his tone set Vasco's teeth on edge.

"We were twelve, but Bianca ran back to get something," Melania grumbled.

"I am here!" Bianca's voice called.

Vasco wanted to move to the middle of the path to bar her way. Nothing good would come of this, he was certain of it. He must protect her.

The other girls closed around her, a gaggle of impenetrable geese, until they delivered her to the cloaked man.

"This is Bianca, newly arrived among us," Brenna said, pushing her forward. "With her, we are twelve."

"Such beauty," the man breathed, reaching for Bianca's hand. He bowed low over it. "Princess Bianca, I am Prince Corbin, and it would be my honour to be your escort tonight."

"But I thought I was going to – " Melania protested before Brenna hushed her.

"She would be delighted," Brenna said. "You have rendered her speechless, Prince Corbin. Bianca has spent all her life in the women's palace, where we see few men, but I am sure you will help her find her voice again."

Bianca had no trouble speaking to men, Vasco wanted to say, incensed at her sister's presumption, but once again, he was silenced by Bianca herself.

"I thank you, sir," she said, accepting his assistance into the boat.

More boats had come ashore during the exchange, and the girls spread out along the beach, one to a boat.

Corbin had already poled Bianca's boat away from shore – too far for Vasco to reach them. He cast about for another boat to board.

"You'll do as you're told," Brenna hissed as she shoved Melania toward one of the boats. "Prince Fiachra is just as handsome as his brother. You should consider yourself lucky to have a suitor at all. Why, your mother was a slave before my father took her for a concubine."

While Melania struggled and whined about her mother, Vasco crept into the boat Brenna evidently had in mind for the irritating girl. The cloaked man who stood beside it – Fiachra, Vasco presumed – only had eyes for Melania. The hunger in his gaze made Vasco feel queasy.

At a nod from Brenna, Fiachra seized the slight girl and deposited her in the boat, narrowly missing Vasco. Fiachra stepped aboard after her and quickly poled the boat out into deeper water.

Once again, the boats headed for the small, mist-shrouded island in the middle of the lake. Only this time, Vasco was with them.