Beheld (Kendra Chronicles #4)

At that moment I felt a light touch on my shoulder. I turned, expecting Kendra.

It was not Kendra but a young woman my own age, tall and gawky, with carroty hair and freckles dotting a bumpy nose.

“There you are, Sophie.” She looked right into my eyes.

I started a bit, still unable to move, to speak even.

“Sophieeee . . .” She tugged upon my arm. “Come. They are going inside. We need to hurry, the better to procure adjoining rooms.”

“Adjoining . . . ?”

“Silly! If our rooms are too far apart, it will be much more difficult to sneak around and gossip about him.”

“Him?”

“The prince!” She giggled. Did she think I was her friend?

I felt myself giggle too, and somehow, I knew this strange girl’s name. Dared I to say it? What if I was wrong?

Yet I knew I was not wrong. Kendra’s magic made it so, made this strange girl believe I was her dear friend . . . Magic!

“Sophie!” She grabbed my hand. “Did you not hear me?”

“Oh, Agathe!” I said, using the strange girl’s name. “I am sorry. I was just thinking about meeting Prince Karl!”

Her reaction let me know I was correct. I squeezed Agathe’s hand, and together, we fairly vibrated with excitement. Or rather, she vibrated with excitement. I trembled with fear. I could not help but wonder about Sophie. Was there a real Sophie? What had happened to her? Was she trapped in a cupboard somewhere? Or did Agathe merely believe she existed? Was I an illusion? Did I still look like me? And, when Karl saw me, would he recognize me?

I wanted to take the mirror from my satchel, both to examine my face and to ask Kendra all these questions. That’s when I realized I did not have the satchel anymore. I glanced around. A servant in a black uniform had my bags.

Agathe said, “I know. I cannot wait to meet the man I am to marry!”

My mouth fell open, and I dropped her hand. I felt cold, as if I might freeze into a block of ice and fall over. To marry Karl? I stared at the girl. She was not pretty, not really, but she had a neat figure, and she was rich. She was smiling, for she was to marry Karl!

I wanted to scream out everything, but she would not believe me. She thought I was her dear friend Sophie.

I had to be alone, to speak to Kendra. This could only be accomplished if I unfroze myself, placed one foot in front of the other, and walked into the castle.

I smiled, though I felt as if my face would crack when I did.

“Of course.” My voice shook, but I steadied it. Perhaps she merely meant she wished to marry Karl. I held out my arm to the lovely, rich Agathe. “Let us go.”

And we linked arms and walked into the palace.

This too was dizzying, for it had pillars as large as the hundred-year-old chestnut trees that grew near our mill. When we entered, I nearly gasped. The gold on the ceiling and walls was blinding.

Agathe gave me a sharp look. “What is wrong with you?”

“It is so beautiful!”

She shrugged. “No more beautiful than our palace at home, and you have been there hundreds of times.”

I recovered myself. I was a young lady accustomed to entering palaces, apparently.

“Well, that is beautiful too. This is just different.” I assumed all castles did not look alike.

“True. Our castle is much older. This one is more modern.” She nodded happily, surveying the room like one who expected to live there.

There was an elaborate luncheon, but I ate little of it. I searched for Karl. He was out, hunting, they said. We would meet him at dinner tonight. And a ball. Agathe grabbed my hand when this was announced. I felt the tiny bit of venison I had consumed threaten to come up. I stood, attempting to breathe.

Finally, finally, I was alone in my bedroom. I peered into the mirror. I looked like myself, but a heightened version of myself, dressed beautifully, with hair that had been curled with great care. I could be a princess.

Except I was not a princess.

“Show me Kendra.” I wondered if the tremble in my voice had become a permanent condition.

She appeared in the mirror.

I burst into tears.

“What is it, dear?”

“He is to marry that Agathe! He was never going to marry me!”

“You do not know that.”

“I do.” Now I saw it clearly. “He went to the market dressed as a peasant, to meet some peasant girl to . . . to . . .” I could not form the words. “I was nothing to him but a bit of fun before his marriage to a noblewoman. And he was everything to me!”

I thought of the book Karl had sent me. I had loved it but, more than that, I had loved the idea of it, the fact that Karl had understood me so well that he had picked the perfect book, the very book I had wanted. He did not believe me a stupid peasant, or at least, he did not seem to. He found me a smart and accomplished young woman! It had been the book that had made me certain of him, the book that had made me love him. That and his face.

“It was all a lie,” I said, sobbing. “If only he had not sent that book.”

“Book? What book?”

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