Thankfully, I was too dumbstruck to say any of this. Rather, I accepted her ministerings as if they were my due. It reminded me of when I was a little girl and my mother used to braid my hair. In an hour’s time, the perfectly perfect pink silk dress I wore was traded for an even more elegant blue one, and my blond hair was brushed and fussed with until it shone like straw spun into gold. I looked in the mirror and knew that, when Karl saw me, he would love me, even if he never really had before.
Finally, my maid said, “The time, milady,” and I emerged from my room.
Agathe was in the hallway, fairly swaying under the weight of a satin gown the color of wine. She turned to me, and her face was white as milk, which made her freckles stand out like measles. “Oh, Sophie! Do you think he will like me?”
No. Of course not. Or, if he does, it will merely be because you are rich. I took her hands in mine, noting the blue vein that pulsed in her high forehead. Indeed, the vein was bluer than her eyes.
I wanted to tear at it. Silly thing! Why should she have Karl?
Yet she stared down at me so pitifully, and I had to say, “Of course he will, my dear. You look perfect.”
And then, still holding hands, supporting each other, as we were both too nervous to walk, we went for dinner.
“I am so glad you are here,” she said, as we descended a grand marble staircase into a room so large I felt like I was jumping into the ocean in all my elegant clothing. As the stairway curved, Agathe slipped and grabbed onto me. For a moment, I thought we might both pitch forward, rolling over and over each other, down the staircase and into the roomful of people, a pile of torn finery. Fortunately, I had the presence of mind to grab the banister and steady myself until I was able to drag up the dead weight of Agathe. “Hold on,” I whispered.
And then I saw him.
Karl.
Prince Karl.
He was dressed more elegantly than I had ever seen him. Far from playing peasant, now he was dressed impressively. He wore a red-and-blue coat trimmed in gold, so much gold it hurt my eyes. I gazed in wonder at the ornamentation, with flowers and even little frightened faces incorporated into the stitching. Finally, I looked down. My eyes were watering.
“Go!” Agathe tugged at my gown, and I realized I was to curtsy. I did, winking back the tears. When I rose, Karl bowed low. “Ladies.”
He did not look at me. At least, he did not see me. I felt as if I had descended into the river, and now my skirts were waterlogged, tugging me down into the depths like the young child who once had drowned near my father’s property, dragged down by the force of our mill. I was sinking.
Karl offered his arm to Agathe, who took it, giggling like the ninny she was. From somewhere, another gentleman materialized, offering his own arm to me. I took it. The gentleman told me his name, which I did not even hear, and I must have told him mine. He led me to the dining room.
The table was the size of my father’s barn. Laid for thirty or more with lit candles reflected in gleaming silver and sparkling glass, it was piled with tureens of soup, towering plates of vegetables, and platters of fish and meats, one wrapped in a sort of crust like a strudel. I felt that if I ate any of it, I might explode like an unmilked cow.
I fell into my seat. Karl was on my other side, and I tried to catch his eye, but he looked only at his own companion, Agathe. My escort, the nameless, faceless young man to my left, tried to converse with me as I decided which of the seven forks and three knives were for the fish.
“You had a long journey,” he asked.
“Yes,” I barely whispered. “Three days.” I did not know how I knew this, but I did. Kendra’s magic at work, I supposed.
A silence. I had nothing to say, I knew nothing of this man. I suppose, if I had thought about it, I could have told him of the books I had read, the history Karl had sent me, but instead, I sat there, dumb, as the hall filled with more and more people. The cooked fish with its head still on stared at me with disapproval. I glanced to my right, at Karl. He still did not notice, did not see me.
“And was your journey a pleasant one?” The young man attempted again to engage me.
“Yes. I mean, it rained.” I tried to look at him. He was dressed similarly to Karl and was tall and looked strong.
Would you rescue me if I began to drown?
“Ah, that is unfortunate,” he said, “though I suppose the peasants will be glad of it. Rain, I am told, is good for the crops. Peasants are always worried about the crops.”
“Yes,” I said. “Silly peasants.”
Peasants like me.
“Of course, a young lady like yourself need not worry about such things,” he said. “You are only concerned about how the weather affects your complexion.”
I took a bite of the fish. I had decided to begin with the fork closest to me only to realize that others had done the exact opposite. I wiped it off upon the tablecloth and started again. I took another bite. And another. And another. And then servants materialized to take away the largely unconsumed food. They brought more, and my escort said, “Oh, it is time to turn the conversation.” He seemed relieved.
And, at that, he swiveled his body toward the lady on his other side. I realized that the entire table had done the same, and I was looking at the back of the gentleman’s head.
I turned too and found myself face-to-face with Karl.