Page 35 of The Beauty and the Griffin

“You could be right,” Hortense told Geneva. “She’s beautifulandsweet-natured. Now that we’ve got her dolled up, I think the king really might choose her.”

“Thank you . . . but . . .” I had to ask: “I’ve never even met your king. Doesn’t he personallyknowany eligible women he could marry?”

As in, was he repulsive or old or evil?

“Sure!” Geneva gave me a dismissive wave. “Everyone always thought he would marry the Lady Arabella—”

“They’ve been in love since they were children,” Hortense interrupted in her sweetly breathless way. “Or so everyone’s always said. But now they say she doesn’t want to marry him.” The maid appeared torn.

“I wouldn’t marry any ofmycousins.” Revulsion tinged Geneva’s voice. “Why should she have to marry him just because of some prophecy?”

Hortense frowned. “They’re notfirstcousins,” she explained to me. “Just third or fourth or something. It’s too bad the king isn’t more charming.”

Ah, so he was a loser.

Then, after a pause, she added, “But he’s handsome and noble,” and stage-whispered, “Some of the manservants say he has magic.”

Geneva gave apffof disdain. “Magic doesn’t run in the royal family. Nobody wants a mage king or queen. Royals have too much power as it is.”

That part sounded much like modern-day news.

Hortense shrugged, looking pouty. “What if our royal family does have magic and we just don’t know it? Maybe the King’s Fated Mate will be here tonight! The prophecy says they’ll save the world together.”

Something like ice-water trickled down my spine. After a pause, I chuckled. “Okay, you two had me going there for a minute. Fated mates and prophecies, indeed!”

Their serious expressions rattled me.

“I’ve heard tales—I mean, old folk tales and legends—but surely people don’t really . . .” My voice trailed off. The question wouldn’t come out right. I wasn’t entirely sure what to ask.

Most of what I knew about history I’d learned while tutoring Princess Eddi, but her history textbooks had focused on wars and their consequences, not matrimonial customs, andneveron magic or the World Magic Council. For all I knew, bride-selection royal balls and Fated Mates had beende rigueurat one time.

“Has . . . has His Majesty been the king for long?” I asked for lack of a better question.

Both girls gave me incredulous stares. “You don’t know?”

“I don’t. I’m not from around here.”

They exchanged looks. “She does talk funny,” Geneva stage-whispered.

“His father, King Siegfried II, died suddenly one year ago,” Hortense explained, looking as if she didn’t quite believe my excuse. “The prince became King of Adelboden then, of course, but a proper mourning period had to be observed before his official crowning and the coronation ball. Now, the pressure is on for His Majesty to marry and produce an heir.”

Adelboden. The country where Faraway Castle was located. I knew little of its political history, but I was pretty sure Adelboden had been a republic for . . . well, as long as I’d been alive. At least, I thought so.

But what did it matter? All I wanted just then was to attend a ball while dressed up like a historical movie star. Snatching one more look at myself in the mirrors, I pursed my lips into a moue like I’d seen in photos from a century ago and nearly laughed at the result. Too funny!

I turned to the maids. “So, what happens next?”

Geneva glanced at the mantel clock and sprang into action. “Ooh! We’ve got to escort you to the Great Hall.”

Hortense dangled a little satin bag on a braided-silk rope from my wrist—it supposedly contained a handkerchief, a lipstick, and a peppermint drop. Then they hustled me into a carpeted hallway. Other guests walked ahead of us, and I relaxed a little since their clothing looked much like mine. Part of me still wanted to believe it was all a dream, but . . . I couldn’t. For one thing, whenever I thought a dream might not be real, the adventure or nightmare fizzled away, and I woke up. For another, nothing in this adventure was fuzzy around the edges. If anything, it seemed too vivid, almost larger than life. Just like my visit to Othniel’s garden had been so much better than anything in my own world. If I could have stayed in that time and place, maybe I wouldn’t constantly feel as if I were looking in on life from the outside.

My maids avoided crowds by taking me down a back stairway that was nonetheless beautiful, and we eventually entered a large hall where guests were supposed to wait for the royal family’s entrance. I rather enjoyed seeing the men in tuxedoes, and the women all sparkled and shimmered. Delightful!

“We’ve got to find a good position so the king will see Beatrice,” Geneva muttered, craning her neck to scan the crowd.

“But we’re supposed to help set up refreshments.” Hortense tugged at her friend’s sleeve.

Geneva’s eyes went wide. “Oh yeah, you’re right. But first, we make sure Beatrice knows her onions.” With that puzzling remark, she drew me into a corner, explained the order of events, then made me repeat it all back to her. Satisfied, she turned to Hortense and flatly stated, “She’ll do.”

---