Midnight in Everwood(53)
The captain gave her a curious look. ‘What kind of beverage is coffee? I have never heard mention of such a thing.’
Marietta laughed. ‘It is a bitter, strong drink that people imbibe to render them more alert. Rather useful in the mornings, I find, though I have a habit of drowning it in milk and sugar to flavour it more to my liking.’
His smile was faint, fleeting. ‘I do not pretend to understand how you are feeling.’ He swallowed. ‘If only I could turn this sleigh around. Return you to your world.’ His face betrayed a stifled wildness. In that flash, Marietta saw him as somewhat akin to herself; a caged bird.
She laid a hand on his arm. ‘I understand,’ she said quietly. ‘You have responsibilities here that necessitate you filling your obligations to the king. Lest you draw attention to others that need you more than I. Besides, my fate is now aligned with that of Pirlipata and Dellara; I could not forsake them now. You spoke honestly of your own unwitting role in circumnavigating an old uprising. Well, I too regret the mistakes I have made in the past. I was a selfish, vain creature, ignorant to the world around me. I still have much to learn but I am hopeful that I shall be wiser in the future. If I ever return home.’
‘It’s in the stars that you shall dance in your own world once more.’ The captain laid a gloved hand atop hers. She felt its warmth, a beam of sunlight cutting through the harshest winter. ‘Of that I have no doubt. Many wanderers, lost souls, find themselves in Everwood for a spell; most return home.’ He hesitated then. ‘Some time ago you informed me that you were far from safe in your own world. I must confess, I have often dwelled on that since. Is that what led you here?’
Once, Marietta would never have considered telling him her story. She had kept herself locked away as tightly as she was in the frozen palace, hesitant to share even the smallest morsel of herself with others apart from Frederick. But Dellara and Pirlipata had shown her another path. One of companionship and finding strength in each other. So, she began to speak of Drosselmeier, the truth bleeding from her lips.
The captain’s hand fell to his sword hilt. ‘Do you wish me to—’ He stopped and cleared his throat.
Marietta’s hand still lingered on his arm. ‘No. I will not have anyone else fight my battles for me. I shall seek a way to defeat him myself and it will taste all the sweeter for it. Besides, we come from different worlds, lest you forget.’ Her smile was wry.
After a beat, Captain Legat inclined his head. ‘You are more than capable of doing so. I understand it cannot have been easy to share that with me but I am honoured and grateful to have been taken into your confidence. In fact—’ He handed her a battered notebook from his breast pocket. ‘Since you are already in possession of my deepest secret,’ he said roughly, ‘what is one more?’
She took it curiously, made to open the cover when the captain shook his head. ‘Do keep it hidden.’
She secreted it under her cloak.
As their sleigh rushed through the illuminated night and towards the frozen sugar palace, Marietta wished the world would still, just for a moment.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
‘Where, perchance, has my dancer wandered off to?’ King Gelum asked.
Marietta stiffened. Dread pooled in her stomach, heavy as clotted cream. She had been observing tonight’s feast in the throne room alongside Dellara in an attempt to keep her eyes averted from Captain Legat’s, whose gaze she kept inadvertently meeting. They had not conversed since the events that had transpired a few days ago, since their intimate sleigh ride back to the palace with his most dangerous secret in her possession. An inchoate awareness that she had penetrated his armour. And he hers.
King Gelum had accepted their tale of events yet was reluctant to allow her a moment’s respite on each occasion she was within his presence. She ached to sit, her feet blistered and sore, her muscles tiring.
A trade delegation from another world had arrived less than an hour earlier, stepping directly into the throne room by means of tiny golden keys which cut an entrance through magic Marietta could not decipher. Dellara had informed her that they were rare and valuable beyond measure. The guests were now ensconced in a celebratory dinner that the king was presiding over. Seated on low cushions, they dined from the backs of silvery sugar swans, their backs heaped high with delicacies from Sugar Alley.
Marietta stepped forward. A woman in a raspberry-pink gown tittered and whispered to the man sat beside her. Marietta suppressed a smile at the golden birdcage perched atop her head, replete with miniature songbirds fluttering about her pinned curls. Bright yellow, each one was a ray of sunshine distilled into feathers and song.
King Gelum pointed to a stretch of opaque floor that ran alongside half of the diners. ‘I command you dance for the Bellinnese.’
Despite a flicker of temptation at the notion of publicly refusing the king, Marietta acquiesced as the musicians picked up their instruments in a hurry and began to play. Closing her eyes, feeling the music unfurl, she danced. Attempted to conjure the vision of weightlessness that Anna Pavlova and all the greats of ballet conveyed. To transform into an ephemeral creature of silk and gossamer, carried by the wind. Yet, having been commanded to dance, she failed to summon the passion slumbering in her bones. Her ankle buckled during a pirouette and Marietta fell.
The Bellinnese fell silent. Several called short tunes to their birds, which returned to perch on fingers and curls of hair, their baleful eyes swivelling moons. Marietta chanced a glance at King Gelum. Though his expression maintained an immaculate calmness, his thin lips had paled and clamped together, conveying his distaste.