EIGHT
“PRINCESS?” A HAND LAY ACROSS HERS. “PRINCESS, it’s time to wake up.”
Aurora dragged her eyes open, blinking in the bright light. Betsy stood in front of her, dark curls frizzing wildly around her face. “Princess, why are you sleeping here?”
“I was reading,” she said. “I must have fallen asleep.” The Tale of Sleeping Beauty lay open under her elbow, balanced precariously on the arm of the chair. The paintings of her mother and father smiled up at her. She tried to sit straighter, and her shoulder ached in protest.
“Oh, Princess, you must get some proper rest,” Betsy said. She placed her breakfast tray on the table nearby. “I worry about you. Sometimes you look like you never sleep at all.”
“I’ve already slept more than I’ll ever need to,” Aurora said. She forced a small smile.
“But you still need real sleep, if I may say so.”
“I’m adjusting.”
Betsy put a plate down by Aurora’s side. “At least you can eat.” Aurora picked up a jam-covered roll and took a tentative bite, letting its sweetness fill her mouth.
“Where are you from, Betsy?” Aurora asked as the maid turned away to the wardrobe. “If you don’t mind my asking.”
“I don’t mind,” Betsy said. “But it’s not very interesting. I was born in Petrichor. My mum has worked in the castle for as long as I remember—she worked for the old king, before that guard killed him. I didn’t work here then, though. But my father, he was a blacksmith, and when he died, my mum moved us both here. Best place to be, she says, long as you keep your nose out of people’s business and do what you’re told.” She blushed. “But you probably didn’t want to know all that.”
“I do,” Aurora said. “I want to know. Is it—your mother didn’t think it was safe outside the castle?”
“Well, my dad, he was killed during a riot a few years ago. Not everyone likes people with ties to the royal family, and he did work for them, shoeing the horses and the like. But where else could we work, except here? Better to live inside the walls and eat well and stay safe, than try to be in both worlds at once, out there and in here. Or so my mum says. Don’t get me wrong, the people are good here, in the city and in the castle. But as I’m sure you’ve heard, Princess, it hasn’t been the best of times while you were asleep.” She turned back to the wardrobe. “How about the blue dress today?” she said. “I think it will look lovely for spring.”
Aurora nodded.
Betsy fidgeted as she arranged Aurora’s hair, taking the same pin in and out several times, as though uncertain what to do. “I have to tell you something, Princess,” she said eventually. “The queen asked me to lock your door at night. For your own protection. You—you understand that, don’t you?”
Of course, the door had been mysteriously unlocked for the second morning in a row. After the previous day, Betsy was sure to have double-checked the lock before she left for the night. But she did not sound accusing or reproachful. Just . . . warning. Concerned. Aurora felt a jolt of guilt. But she could not stop sneaking out now, not when she still had so much to see. Not when Tristan was waiting for her. “Yes,” she said. “I understand.”
Half an hour later, after Aurora was dressed and Betsy had left for her other duties, Rodric positively bounced into the room. A grin filled his normally pained, blushing face, and everything about him, from the tips of his hair to his footsteps on the stone floor, seemed to laugh in excitement.
“I had a thought!” he said, as though this were a rare and celebratory occurrence. “I think you’ll like it. I—” He looked at her face, and he paused. “Are you all right, Princess? You look tired.” There was that distinctive pink flush again. “Not that you don’t look lovely,” he said. “You always look lovely. Even when you are tired. But you do look tired, Princess, if you don’t mind my asking about it—”
My name isn’t Princess, she thought, and suddenly she felt tireder still. But what was the point in explaining? “What was your thought?”
He hesitated, all the excitement lost in the moment’s interruption. “It’s a silly idea, really,” he said. “I understand if you don’t want to.”
“I’m sure it will be wonderful,” she said. “What is it?”
He smiled again, if a little cautiously. “Would you like to come and see my sister?”
Rodric’s sister. Aurora knew nothing about her, except for that brief glimpse of a young girl, soon after she awoke. “Yes,” she said steadily. “All right.” When Rodric continued to look unsure, she added, “That would be nice.”
“She might not say much,” Rodric said, “but I know she’d be excited. She’s read your story many times. It’s one of her favorites.”
Of course. Even now, she was to be paraded about. Come and meet her for a gold piece. Gain affection from your siblings with her strange delights. What if, after years of appearing in the girl’s storybooks, she was a disappointment?
Rodric knocked on a door on the far side of the castle, several floors above Aurora’s own. Beyond the wall, Aurora heard a rather stern, pinched-sounding woman pause in her lecture. Rodric eased the door open.
“Mrs. Benson,” he said. “I am sorry to trouble you. I wondered if I might speak with Isabelle for a moment.”
“We’re in the middle of a lesson,” Mrs. Benson said. “With all due respect, your sister’s education is of the utmost importance—”
“I thought,” Rodric said, “that the princess and I might take her into the gardens. Only a short break. I wish my—I mean, I wish for the princess and my sister to become acquainted with each other.”
“Please!” said a soft, high voice from inside the room. “Please, Mrs. Benson. I’ll concentrate hard afterward, I promise.”
The woman sighed. “All right,” she said. “But be quick about it. And don’t you even think of getting your new dress dirty, young lady.”
“I won’t!” the girl said. “Thank you!”
Feet scurried across the floor, and then a small girl ducked around Rodric. Isabelle had brown hair, pinned at the back and then running straight down to her waist. Her face was thin, like her mother’s, but she clearly also had her brother’s propensity for embarrassment. When she saw Aurora, she stopped so suddenly that she might have hit an invisible wall. Her cheeks went from freckled and pale to a glowing, painful crimson in the space of a blink. She stared up at Aurora with huge, deerlike eyes, and when she bit her lip, Aurora saw that her front teeth crossed over slightly.
“Hello,” she said. “I’m Aurora.”
Isabelle nodded.
“This is my sister, Isabelle,” Rodric said. “Isabelle?”
The little girl jolted back to life. She sank into a curtsy, bowing her head, letting her hair fall delicately forward over her face. It was a move Aurora had practiced herself many times in her life. Only Isabelle’s shaking knees gave her inexperience away.
“You don’t need to curtsy to me, Isabelle,” she said softly. “It’s lovely to meet you.”
Isabelle stood up straight. She was still biting her lip.
“Come on,” Rodric said. “Let’s go to the garden.”
They walked in silence, Rodric in the middle of their little group. Isabelle stared at the floor, her face still burning, tripping slightly over the long, tangled skirt of her dress. Every few seconds, she glanced sideways at Aurora through her eyelashes. Aurora pretended not to notice. She couldn’t stop picturing this shy, blushing, proper little girl, bent over her storybooks, staring at paintings of Aurora, absorbing every detail. Each glance was an impossible evaluation. Did Aurora’s hair curl like in the pictures? Was her smile as bright as Isabelle had hoped? Was she as sweet and kind as the stories had always said?
When they reached the door to the courtyard, it rattled under Rodric’s hand. Locked. “Oh,” Rodric said, and there was that damned blush, like every little trip-up was a dreadful reflection on his character. “Sorry. I guess I didn’t think—I’ll go find someone with the key. Sorry.”
He hurried away, leaving Aurora and Isabelle alone with the guards. The moments dragged past.
“You’re very pretty,” Isabelle said, so softly that Aurora almost didn’t hear her.
“Oh,” Aurora said. “You’re very pretty too.”