The Thirteenth Princess Read Free Page A

met with officials and royalty from other kingdoms. They were sumptuous and stately (though damp), hung with tapestries and furnished with chairs and benches cushioned in velvet and tables of inlaid woods in intricate patterns.
    The kitchen with its attached pantry was on the lowest level of the palace, but it was less damp than the rest of that floor because the fires burned there continuously, drying out the air. It was the only usable room on that level. The others were originally intended as servants’ bedrooms and storerooms, but the servants who slept there soon developed infections of the lungs and fungus between their toes, and any goods stored there would shortly be rotted and covered with mold. Once I saw a rat in one of these rooms, and I ran screaming and crying to Cook. There was something about rats that terrified me—their nasty, beady eyes, their long, naked tails. I could not bear even to think of them.
    Lost in thought, I started when Cook shouted from the land bridge, “Zita! Stop your dreaming and bring those berries in!” Her loud voice echoed across the lake, and I snapped to attention, grabbed my basket, and ran back through the brambles that snatched at my skirt and scratched my bare arms.
    The berries were to be part of a magnificent dessert,a strawberry cream layer cake, for tonight was an occasion. The eldest of my sisters, especially Aurelia, were of a marriageable age by now, and Father had invited King Tobin of Blaire and his son, Prince Regan, to dine. The kitchen staff had been commanded to make unusual delicacies, and I had heard my sisters twittering with excitement for days. After the cake was in the oven, Cook sent me upstairs to dust. I came across Aurelia in the upper-floor hallway as I flicked the duster here and there, her usually pale skin pink and her hair and dress elaborate.
    â€œYou look beautiful,” I said shyly.
    She blushed still more. “Why, thank you, Zita!” she replied.
    â€œAre you going to dine with the prince?”
    â€œI am,” she said. “I, and Alanna, Ariadne, and Althea. I believe that Father intends for him to choose one of us.”
    â€œTo marry?” I asked, fascinated.
    â€œYes indeed,” Aurelia replied, smiling.
    â€œBut why has the king waited so long?” I asked bluntly.
    Aurelia laughed. “He does not like to entertain,” she reminded me. “And I truly think he had forgotten how very ancient I was, until my name-day celebration last month!” But her voice was light as she said this, for sheknew she was still young and lovely.
    â€œI hope you like the prince well, then!” I said daringly, and Aurelia laughed.
    â€œI hope he likes me well, dear Zita!” She reached out and touched me on the shoulder as she passed, and I nearly swooned with happiness.
    Already the staterooms were gleaming, so I wandered down the hallway to the one room at the far end whose great oaken door was kept locked. For years I had wondered about it. That day the staff was in such an uproar that Chiara had left her great chain of keys unattended on a table in the hall, a most remarkable occurrence. Without hesitation I picked up the chain and tried key after key in the door, looking nervously around with each attempt to be sure I wasn’t seen. Finally one fit, the door unlatched, and I pushed it open, wincing as it squeaked after years of disuse.
    I was astonished to find an enormous empty space, hung with large, moldering tapestries. The room boasted a floor of inlaid wood that might once have shone beautifully but now was dull from neglect. I wandered around, peering at the weavings on the wall in the dim light. The windows were curtained with great falls of moth-eaten maroon velvet, and my eyes could barely trace the figures woven into the hangings. I made out a court of dancing maidens, a unicorn, a dragon.In each of the tapestries was the same figure, a lovely woman with a sheaf of silver-gold