“It’s possible.”
“Why do you think those people were so upset?”
He hesitated. “The former queen has only recently passed,” he said after a moment, “and was beloved by the people.”
“They do not want the king to remarry so quickly?”
He averted his eyes. “Some may feel that way, yes.”
“Do you?”
He looked back at me. “I follow the will of my king, madame. I do not question his desires.”
“Ah,” I said, assessing him. “Good.”
It reassured me to know that Josef inspired such loyalty in those around him.
The drama of our entrance distracted me slightly from my terrible nerves, which were increasing at an alarming rate as we neared the end of our journey. I had thought my proper place was here, in the palace, but as we rattled over the drawbridge and came to a stop, everything seemed foreign and imposing and not like home at all.
A guard outside pulled the carriage door open and helped me down. My hair remained in the carriage, and gradually unraveled and trailed after me as I stepped forward. Looking around, I saw how luxurious the palace was, far more extravagant than I’d known anything could be. The ground was covered in marble and the doors to the castle were giant, with golden men on horseback flying across them as if they could leap off onto the stone of the palace exterior, or into the shining water of the moat surrounding us.
A large group of ladies and servants stood inside, ready to greet me. I craned my neck, looking for Josef, but he was not there.
I could feel the people’s eyes passing over me, examining me, and that sense of shame came back, more acutely now, that I didn’t have anything finer than the plain shift I was wearing. I forced myself to stand tall and meet their gazes, defiant. But they were not paying attention to my clothes, it seemed.
I heard gasps and exclamations from all around.
“Her hair!” “Beautiful . . . ” “Like pure gold . . . ”
I stared at the group, in all their finery. Ladies curtsied, men bowed, and I smiled as I stepped into the palace.
“My lady,” a woman said, stepping forward. “I am ordered to take you to your chambers. My name is Yolande.”
“Thank you,” I said.
She was lovely, with a cloud of rich brown hair about her face. I felt instantly comfortable with her, as she led me through the crowd of people and toward a grand stairway, her green and white dress full and swishing as she moved.
My hair dragged behind me. I felt a strange energy, the presence of invisible spirits all around. Maybe it was a memory of my own past in this kingdom, maybe it was the portraits and sculptures all over, or maybe it was the generations of royalty who’d lived here, pressing in. But I could feel it.
The other women rushed to follow, walking on either side behind me. I was not sure yet who they were, whether they were members of the royal family or servants, and was surprised that no one introduced themselves to me, though the men, I noted, all watched me with a combination of what seemed like admiration and suspicion, as we passed. Was it men like these who’d caused the tears I’d witnessed in the forest? I wondered. Were men the same everywhere?
I was too stunned, though, to give too much thought to my reception and the possible foibles of those around me. After years of watching the palace from my tower window, dreaming of what was happening inside, I was here, and everywhere I looked was some new marvel.
It was as if a mountain had opened and I’d walked into it, all marble and flashing stone. Gems studded the walls, glinting when the light hit them. We moved through hallways and long rectangular rooms with massive paintings and all manner of wild beasts hanging from the walls. Great hearths yawned open from each floor, alongside grand, richly colored furniture with intricate designs carved into it and over plush, sumptuous rugs. I wanted to run my fingers over each new thing.
We walked past rooms where painters were at work on entire walls, where lords and ladies played instruments and hunched over games of chess, and across a great courtyard with a pond in the middle of it, at the center of the palace.
A group of swans floated on the water. The sun shone down above us. I thought of Zeus and his swan, and thought that this place, this palace, was fit for the gods.
As we walked, my hair dragged across marble and stone and grass, dipped into the pond, brushed against these ladies who’d attached themselves to me. Amid my wonder at my surroundings, I was able to feel the women’s distrust, feel the general sense that the king was doing something wrong, betraying the beloved, newly deceased queen by marrying a strange woman from the forest.
I let myself absorb everything—it was only natural, wasn’t it, that they would feel that way?—as we stepped back inside, and as Yolande led me up a set of stairs and down a hallway. I stopped short in front of a large portrait on the wall, the last in a line of portraits, all of stern-faced women in queens’ clothing.
It was a woman in an extravagant gown. Her hair was long and black, her eyes bright blue, her lips red as fresh blood. Her expression was warm and lovely and strange, and I felt mesmerized, suddenly, by her beauty. Around her neck hung a gold, gem-studded cross.
“Is that . . . ?” I turned to Yolande. “Was that her?”
“Yes, that was our queen,” she said, stepping quickly forward and leading me through a large set of doors and into a series of rooms.
I shivered, convinced that my predecessor was still there, watching me. Knowing what I’d done.
“And these are the queen’s chambers,” she said.
The room that greeted us was lavish, with tapestries covering the walls and silk curtains hanging in the windows. Had these been her rooms, too? I wondered. They must have been. Suddenly I did not feel at all well.
“Here is your bedroom,” she said, pushing open another set of doors, into a sweeping room. There was a massive soft bed, high off the floor, with sheer fabrics hanging down all around it, rugs covering the stone floor, and an immense hearth, and a window, with wide wooden doors I could press open.
“This is my . . . room?” I asked.
I noticed that my things were already scattered about, that the soldiers carrying them had arrived earlier. The sight of my few items of clothing reassured me.
“Yes. And I sleep nearby, as do most of us. We are your ladies-in-waiting.”
I turned around and faced the five ladies who’d been following us. All of them were prettily outfitted, with swept-up hair and graceful smiles on their faces—except for one, a plain woman dressed in yellow, staring at the floor, who seemed vaguely familiar.
“When will I see the king?” I asked.
“You are to be married in the morning,” Yolande said. “We will wash you and prepare you for the wedding.”
“Wedding?”
“Have you not come to be queen, my lady?” she said, amused. “You must not have expected it to happen so quickly . . . ?”
“No, I did not,” I said. “I thought surely I would see him first.”
“We are following his wishes. It seems he is anxious to make you his queen. We will serve you dinner here, and bring you whatever you may need.”
“I would like something to drink,” I said, “and to rest for a while.”
She nodded, and they left me alone in the vast room.
I wandered through it, mesmerized by all that space, gloomy and beautiful and strange. Everything was so quiet, without the sounds of the forest. I walked to the window, which looked out onto the palace gardens; they were so much larger and more manicured than our garden in the forest, but just as lush.
I had a sudden, intense wave of longing to see Mathena, to be with her right now, in the forest, where I was loved. No one here wanted me, it seemed, other than the king himself.
