Apples and Princesses (The Tales and Princesses Series Book 2) Page 6

  “Good,” he praised me.

  Nick was sitting in a dark corner, sharpening his hatchet with a whetstone. He was pretending to direct all of his attention to the job, but I kept catching his glances at me. I had trouble reading his thoughts through his hooded eyes and dull expression.

  “Okay,” Arnold said. “Now pretend to flirt with me and take the coin from my pocket.” He lifted a shiny copper piece into the light to show me, then placed it in his back pocket.

  “She needs someone taller to practice on,” one of the twins said. I almost forgot the rest of the boys were watching my training from under the dining table in the hallway. They were sitting in a neat line like ducks in a row.

  “Nick can do it!” Jacob said, not looking up from his book.

  Arnold frowned, and I could’ve sworn I could see the jealousy cross his face that time.

  “Fine,” Arnold said after a long pause.

  “Oh, no.” Nick shook the whetstone in his hand at Arnold. “I’m not getting involved in your mischievous, dangerous plans.” He turned his stark, green eyes to my face. “This is very dangerous, Snow.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You keep saying that.”

  Arnold seemed deep in thought. “Actually, Snow, he’s right.”

  My jaw dropped open. “Arnold! Don’t start agreeing with Nick all of a sudden! You need me to do this job, remember?”

  He rubbed his chin, ignoring my words. “I think people would have a hard time believing Lady Isabella would be traveling to Bothar all by herself.”

  Realization dawned on me, and all eyes turned to Nick.

  “What?” he demanded.

  “I can’t believe I’ve gotten roped into this.”

  I leaned on the wood paneling of the open doorway as Arnold, Ben, and Larry made the final adjustments to Nick’s loose breeches and the bright green doublet across his long torso. All three stood in front of a tall, cracked mirror in the tiny bedroom I had been occupying the last few days. It took everything in me not to laugh at the sight of Nick in his new outfit. It was the day of the ball, and they were preparing Lord Charmont to escort his beautiful sister, the Lady Isabella, to the event.

  “You brought it upon yourself,” I said. “Besides, you’ll be a lot of help. The boys were right— people would be suspicious of Lady Isabella if she were by herself. Her brother Lord Charmont at her side would make our story more believable.”

  “That’s another thing,” Nick said as Arnold instructed him to lift up his right arm. “Why do I have to play your brother? Shouldn’t I be a husband or something?”

  Arnold scoffed, face turning red. “Why would you need to be a husband… or something?”

  Nick shrugged, much to the annoyance of the boys adjusting his ensemble. “I don’t know. I just don’t look anything like her brother.”

  “Snow needs to be able to flirt with all the nobles there,” Ben chimed in. “It would make some people a little less forthcoming if they knew she was there with a significant other.”

  “On that note,” I said, “shouldn’t we be getting me ready, too? The ball is in, what, three hours?”

  “Yes, just a second, Snow,” Arnold said as he stepped back to study Nick. “Larry, it’s too tight around his buttocks.”

  “My butt?” Nick whirled around to try to look at it in the mirror, and I was unable to stifle my snickering. Nick flushed a deep red, not a thing I expected to see from someone like him.

  “Come on,” Arnold said to me. “The dress we got for you is in one of the other rooms.”

  By “got,” I was sure he meant “stole.” How else were they supposed to get something as fancy as what they put on Nick and what they were undoubtedly about to put on me?

  Arnold led me to the room that he and a couple of the older boys shared down the hall. After a quick knock and no answer, he turned the rusted knob and nodded his head at the gown lying across one the three cots in the room.

  “Put that on,” he said. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  The older boys’ room was much larger than the one they were having me stay in. I was obviously sleeping in a small study of sorts, surrounded by books and a small, rickety desk. The boys’ room was nearly empty. Well, except for the clothes all over the floor and their cots.

  I moved to the bed in the center and stared at the gown before me. It was beautiful, and I found myself close to tears as I thought about wearing something so lovely again. The bodice was sprinkled with small, shining stones of silver, and the silk material radiated a flattering, deep red— a color that would compliment my similarly red lips and dark hair.

  I happily removed the hideous tunic and trousers on my body and slipped into the shift Arnold had set beside the dress. I then followed with the hoop skirt. How were they able to get a hold of these things? Hoop skirts didn’t come by easy— even for nobles.

  I slipped the dress over my head, welcoming the cool touch of the smooth fabric. There was another tall mirror in this room, and I moved to look at my reflection. I found myself smiling at the image and twirled around to see the gown over my entire figure. It flattered every curve and fit me almost perfectly. The boys really knew what they were doing.

  I almost didn’t hear the knock as I admired my reflection.

  “Snow?” Arnold peeked his head in, hand over his eyes. “Can I come in?”

  “Yes.”

  Arnold put his hand down, then approached me with his head cocked to the side, studying me intently. He stared at me for a moment too long and, after noticing my questioning look, turned his face away bashfully.

  “I think that’ll do,” he said, avoiding my gaze. “We should tighten the bodice, though.”

  He found the strings at the back of my torso and proceeded to pull and tighten them as far as they could go.

  “Whoa,” I wheezed, “I might not be able to breathe!”

  Arnold swiveled his head around my shoulder and made eye contact with me through the mirror, his past embarrassment having subsided.

  “It’ll look good, though.”

  He was right. The tighter bodice flattered my figure even more so than before.

  “Now for your hair,” Arnold said.

  He found a little stool in the far corner of the room and brought it over for me to sit on. My pile of skirts made sitting on the tiny stool difficult, but after a little adjusting, I was able to do so.

  “Marv!” Arnold shouted through the open door and down the hallway. “Can you bring me those hairpins we got yesterday?”

  “Sure!” Marv’s distant voice shouted back.

  “Arnold,” I said, “how do you and your brothers know how to do all of this stuff? You found me a great dress, know a lot about the court and their behaviors, and now you’re going to do my hair and makeup.”

  Marv skipped into the room at that moment with a rusted tin in his hands. The pins inside the container clattered as he moved.

  I continued: “It’s just kind of strange to meet boys who can do what you do, don’t you think? Especially orphan boys.”

  Arnold pulled a white comb from his back pocket and gently brushed the tangles out of my hair that spilled past the top of the stool.

  “You know how I said that our mother was a noble?”

  I nodded, much to Arnold’s chagrin. He grabbed my head and urged me to stay still. Then he carried on with what he was saying:

  “Even after becoming an outcast and living in hiding with our father, she never stopped loving nice things. She always looked elegant.”

  He nodded his head at my dress. “That was hers.”

  “Oh,” I stared at the gown on my body again. “I thought you—”

  “Stole it?” He chuckled. “We stole Nick’s clothes, yes, but what you’re wearing is beyond even what we are capable of.”

  “That still doesn’t explain how you know anything about hair,” I said as he twisted my locks into intricate braids and circled them atop my head.

  He shrugged. “I watched Mot
her in front of her mirror a lot. I pick things up really easily.”

  “I’ll say,” I said, staring at the beautiful style he was creating.

  “What do you think?” he said after another few minutes.

  I twisted my neck back and forth to see the finished product. The pins he used to twist up the loose braids had small, silver stones, a match to the ones on my dress, that sparkled prettily against the black of my locks.

  “Wow,” I whispered in awe. “My hair has never looked this pretty…”

  Arnold folded his arms, proud of himself. “Of course not. Now for the makeup.”

  I had never actually worn a ton of makeup before— living with my father more as a servant than his noble daughter didn’t bring about many occasions that warranted such things.

  I watched as Arnold brushed some rouge onto my cheeks and some glittery tan color to the lids of my eyes. I tried not to flinch at the various tools he touched to my face but coughed as he padded some white powder onto my skin.

  “What does the makeup do, exactly?” I asked with my eyes shut as he applied something he had called a liner.

  “I don’t know exactly. Mother always said it makes a woman look her best. You can open your eyes now.”

  I did and gasped at the image that looked back at me. “That looks… different.”

  Arnold raised an eyebrow. “You don’t like it?”

  I shook my head. “No, I look amazing.”

  “Oh, wait. I got some rouge on your chin.”

  Arnold leaned forward to wipe away the red smudge. Our faces were close, and I could count the little freckles on the bridge of his nose. His eyes met mine.

  “Snow,” he whispered.

  I leaned back slightly. “Uh, yeah?”

  “Do you think after this job, maybe… I mean…”

  He stood up straighter, face turning a little red. It made him look younger. Arnold acted and spoke older than his sixteen years, but in that moment, he was a little boy.

  “My brothers,” he continued, “they need someone. I need someone. You’re— I—” He paused again, shuffling his feet on the floor.

  I shifted in my seat, guessing what he might be getting at. I had been suspecting Arnold’s little crush on me for days.

  “Arnold,” I said, “you’re very sweet, but—”

  “You’re older than me.” He laughed, nervously running his fingers through his golden hair and moved his gaze to the ground. “What about Nick?”

  That surprised me. “What about him?”

  “I see the way he looks at you.”

  I scoffed. “Yeah, right. That would never happen.”

  Arnold clasped his hands behind his back. “But why not? I mean, he was looking everywhere for you and followed us here, didn’t he?”

  I pursed my lips into a thin line. I hadn’t really thought about the possibility of Nick having feelings for me, but it was rather odd that someone I hardly knew was showing so much interest.

  Arnold shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. Forget I said anything.”

  “Wow!”

  Arnold and I turned to find Nick standing in the doorway dressed up in his fancy noblemen clothes, still looking as silly as before. His breeches were large and puffed out at least five inches away from his actual legs, and the green doublet sparkled in the candlelight.

  “You look incredible, Snow!” Nick said.

  His jaw was hanging open as his eyes scanned me from head to foot. My face grew hot, thinking about what Arnold said about Nick’s attraction to me. I stood up from the stool and avoided eye contact.

  “Lord Charmont, Lady Isabella...” Arnold said. “We have work to do.”

  Chapter 12

  The castle wasn’t far from the boys’ hideaway. It took maybe ten minutes to walk there as we took the back alleyways to avoid any unwanted onlookers— those who might be suspicious of fancily dressed nobles walking around town without a carriage or servants to help them travel to the ball.

  “How do we get in?” I asked.

  Arnold pulled his black cloak around his face. “Easy. The ball is an open invitation. They’re expecting nobles from all over the world. There won’t be a list.” He looked Nick and me up and down. “And you two look the part well enough.”

  “What exactly do you need me to do?” Nick chimed in.

  Arnold sighed. “Like we said, smile and nod. You are Lady Isabella’s brother from the Northern regions— let Snow do the talking and the stealing.”

  Nick narrowed his eyes. “I’m terrible at this sort of thing.”

  I shot him a glance. “So you’ve done ‘this sort of thing’ before?”

  Nick laughed. “Of course not! That’s how I know I’ll be terrible!”

  Arnold groaned. “Nick, if you mess this up, I swear—”

  “We’re here!” I said, interrupting the start to another argument.

  Standing so close to the castle was incredible. The structure towered above us to heights where the air was thin, and though the building was old, the gray stone seemed freshly polished. The brilliant light from what had to be hundreds of candles shone through dozens of windows. Crowds of people dressed very similarly to Nick and me, some slightly more eccentric, piled in over the drawbridge that stretched over the murky waters of the vast moat.

  “Oh my…” I whispered. Everything in me was saying how intimidated and scared I should be, but I found myself grinning, that sense of thrill I had grown so accustomed to bringing about an appealing eagerness.

  “This is where I leave you,” Arnold said. Without even looking at us, he continued, “Try not to get caught.” And with that happy goodbye, he slunk away into the night.

  I rolled my shoulders back and adopted Lady Isabella’s persona, excited to see where she might take me on this adventure. “Let’s go, brother.”

  One person after another approached the new Queen in an endless line. They kissed her hands, ravishing over her beauty and, as an afterthought, provided sympathies for the loss of her parents.

  Dalia felt like her brain had turned to mush as she plastered a happy smile on her face and spoke with kindness to people she didn’t even know. She felt lightheaded from the heavy smell of perfumes and powdered wigs as the people passed.

  Lord Magnus stood uncomfortably close to her, nudging her shoulder every few minutes or so in reminder to be eloquent, poised, and personable. Her stomach growled as she stole a quick glance at the towering platters of meats and cheeses across the room.

  “I usually go to the food first.”

  Dalia gasped at the words, realizing her yearning stares at the food had been caught. The woman before her laughed melodically, her arm hooked in the tall man’s standing next to her. Her golden hair spilled down her shoulders in such a free way, and her blue eyes softened at the horrified look on Dalia’s face.

  “Don’t worry, Your Majesty. I understand the unbearable droll that balls can be better than anyone. Maybe your escort can release you for some food before you’re forced to start dancing with boring, old men.”

  Lord Magnus cleared his throat. “Excuse me, m’lady, and you are?”

  “Queen Mildred of Polart, but please call me Milly,” the cute woman chirped. “And this is my husband, King Alexander.”

  The man next to her smiled a crooked smile and adjusted the spectacles on his face. “How do you do?”

  Lord Magnus went pale. “I’m sorry, you weren’t wearing any…” He was at a loss for words as he gestured towards their bare heads.

  “Crowns?” Milly said. “They’re so heavy. Especially for traveling.”

  Dalia touched the enormous crown on her own head. Her sentiments exactly.

  The Polart Queen pulled Dalia’s hand into hers and gave her another gentle smile.

  “Queen Dalia,” she whispered, “I’m so sorry for your loss. If there is anything Polart can do for you, don’t hesitate to call on us.” The woman leaned closer. “I’m pretty close to the King and Queen of Mardasia, too.” M
illy directed her attention to her husband. “Dear, Queen Amelia and King Robert are coming tonight, as well, are they not?”

  King Alexander nodded, thoughtful. “That’s what the letter said. They didn’t leave much later than we did.”

  Milly turned back to Dalia and squeezed her hands playfully. “You have friends all over the place, Your Majesty. Maybe I’ll see you at the food tables later.” She gave Lord Magnus a pointed look.

  The couple moved away from the line to let others go through. Dalia found that her smile wasn’t fake anymore. There was sincerity in Queen Mildred’s words, unlike so many of the other guests.

  “So odd,” Lord Magnus muttered under his breath. “She wasn’t even born a noble, you know. Manipulated her way to the throne, if you ask me.”

  “She seemed nice,” Dalia replied, nodding to the other guests as they appeared before her.

  “Humph,” the Lord replied.

  There was a sudden break in the line, and Dalia sighed in relief. “How much longer must I do this for?”

  “Not the entire night. Just until Prince Frederik arrives and the dancing begins.”

  “Does anyone else know of the engagement? The people, for instance?”

  He shook his head. “In addition to you and me, just King Alfred, Prince Frederik, and their advisors are the only ones. At least, that was the impression I got.”

  Before she could say another word, the line started up again. The Queen found herself scanning the faces for her future husband, ignoring the fact that she had no idea what he looked like. Her thoughts wandered to the mirror in her bedroom. She could have asked it… Why didn’t she?

  Nick was trembling beside me. He didn’t strike me as the “trembling” type, but I guess that’s what happens when you put a huntsman completely outside his element.

  “Why are you so nervous? Just smile and let me do all the work.”

  “Where do we go?” he said.

  “There’s a huge line. I thought it was obvious.”

  I scanned the crowd, feeling the energy of so many people radiating through me. We were still pretty far in the back of the line, not having made it into the ballroom. The hall we inched through was enormous with a ceiling that reached farther than I could almost see. Golden candelabras lined every inch of the walls, providing the space with a festive, bright light.