That was frightening.
Even more frightening, at times something inside her reared back like an offended cobra, and silently shrieked at her to stop. She was a queen—she shouldn't be reduced to slaving over a gown made of bits and pieces from ancient gowns that were unfashionable when they were new. And what was worse, creating a gown for a princess in a minor kingdom that wouldn't have been worthy of ten minutes of discussion in the council chambers of Carlion or Avylyn.
Hmm, I don't know about that, Bib commented. I've been doing a lot of reading, now that I have access to the palace library. Your father is an amazing ruler, with his eye on everything, every kingdom, every war, every merchant route. He likely has several books chronicling the history of Seafoam, just in case he needs the information someday.
"Eavesdropping is not nice," Merrigan snarled under her breath.
No one heard her, as they were busy exclaiming over Princess Dulcibella during that day's fitting. Merrigan focused on the princess. Smiling was easy. Yes, despite everything she had to work with, the gown was lovely. Dulcibella would be the loveliest bride this year. Not just among the small coastal kingdoms, but compared to any princess throughout the entire continent. Merrigan felt some pride in her design work. She did have talent, didn't she?
Isn't it nice to use that talent to make others happy?
For a moment there, she thought Bib had slipped that thought in when she wasn't alert and on guard. Then Merrigan sank back in the big, cushioned chair the queen insisted she use, to be comfortable during the long ordeal of sewing. Odd, that warm feeling soothed the achy, sharp, cold spots inside her, when she saw how happy Dulcibella looked. She had done that for her.
Well, didn't the girl deserve to be happy? She had been working harder than anyone guessed to overcome the curse of silliness some self-centered, nasty, frustrated suitor had cast over some ancestress of hers who had exercised good judgment in refusing to marry him. Dulcibella displayed uncommon good sense by falling in love with Warden. He could have used the tinderbox and the dog brothers to take advantage of her and manipulate circumstances to his advantage, but had chosen to woo the princess and be honorable. He was more than worthy to take over the kingdom after King Devon stepped down.
You do realize that helping people find happiness will go a long way toward reducing the severity of Clara's curse? Bib offered.
I thought you insisted we should call it a spell, not a curse, she shot back, with a bubble of laughter in her throat.
The magic book chuckled quietly, rippling his pages so his cover bobbed up and down but didn't quite flip open.
Chapter Ten
That evening as the seamstresses left the palace, Merrigan felt contented enough that the little niggling sensation of something wrong caught her attention. The feeling of something out of balance, rather plaintive, a touch of loneliness in the air, had been there every time she visited the palace, but until then she had so much on her mind, she ignored it. Now, with the knife promised to Elli and the dress nearly ready for the wedding, she could pay attention. Elli and the other girls were chattering away about their own dresses for the wedding, and didn't notice when Merrigan slowed her steps. No one saw her when she stopped. Odd, how she had never noticed that door in the wall of the long hallway leading from the royal family's wing to the main body of the palace. She looked up and down the length of the hall and calculated the placement of the wings and rooms. If she wasn't mistaken, there should be an area behind that door as large as an entire wing of the palace. It was in the exact middle of the palace, surrounded by wings on all sides. In fact, just the right place for ...
"A queen's garden," Merrigan whispered.
Her knees tried to fold and she stumbled forward, to clutch at the doorknob, as a waterfall of memories spilled through her mind. Her mother's garden had been in the center of the palace of Avylyn, as all proper queens' gardens should be. The heart of the palace, the heart of the kingdom.
"Bib ... was this door here before?" she whispered, and reached into the bag to pull him out and open him. His "sight" improved greatly when his pages were open. The book was silent so long, Merrigan feared something was wrong. Perhaps wrong with her.
"Forgive me, Mi'Lady," he said, so quietly he could have been speaking into her head. "I believe you are very right. This door was not visible until now. The changes in the palace, in the royal family, have caused other changes."
"It's been invisible, just like—" She choked, but forced the words out. "Just like the door to my mother's garden vanished. Not just locked up, when she died. It vanished when there was tampering."
"When your Nanny Tulip tried to use you to open the door contrary to proper timing, when conditions were wrong."
"She did no such—" Merrigan closed the book and slowly, carefully slid him back into his bag hanging at her hip. "Please, Bib, tell me it wasn't my fault that the door vanished, and the garden filled with thorns. Please?" She took a step backwards, then another, then another as the book stayed silent, until she pressed against the opposite wall.
Elli and the other girls were gone. By now they were likely waiting outside for the carriage to come and take them home. Merrigan couldn't hear them. Of course, part of that could be blamed on her thundering heartbeats.
"It is your fault, Mi'Lady, in
