Entwined(101)

For the past year, there had been a tension about it, weighing like the darkness. But like the drapery, it had gone. The palace hadn’t felt this bright since before Mother had taken ill.

“Most of the palace has been unmagicked,” said the King, leading them into the east wing, to the gallery. “But you all have keen eyes. If you see anything I missed, raise the cry. Don’t step on the rug. It’s a bit…peckish.”

Azalea searched the familiar gallery, taking care to stay away from the rug, wanting to hug the spindly, stain-prone furniture and kiss the portraits. None of them had red eyes now. They looked lifelessly ahead, to Azalea’s relief. A second glance revealed a somewhat changed portrait of Great-Aunt Chrysanthemum. Her eyes were crossed.

“Ah,” said the King, following Azalea’s gaze. “I unmagicked that one at the wrong time, unfortunately.”

“Papa?” said Flora as the younger girls gathered around a new portrait leaning against the wainscot. It was a fine portrait, one thick with strong brushstrokes and rich colors. Azalea gaped at the figure; tousled auburn hair, sweet smile, and a light in her eyes that sparkled nearly off the canvas.

“Great scott,” said Azalea, wanting to embrace the painting. “It looks just like her!”

“I know,” said the King. He looked pained.

“How could we possibly afford it?” said Bramble, her fingertips twitching as though to touch it. “This was done in a Delchastrian conservatory, for certain.”

“Miss Bramble!”

The words rang through the gallery. Everyone turned quickly. Bramble blanched.

There, in the doorway at the end of the hall, stood Lord Teddie. He loped across the gallery floor, over the magicked rug, and halted several paces from Bramble. She clutched the sides of her skirts so tightly her hands shook.

“Lord Haftenravenscher,” she said, unsmiling.

Lord Teddie shrank. He shoved his hands in his pockets, took them out, shoved them in again. He nodded at the portrait.

“I—just brought it,” he said. “I—hoped you would be here. Do you like it? I remembered your mum from ages ago, and when I found out she…you know…she—anyway, I thought, wouldn’t it be chuffing if I collected all the pictures I could find of her and had Carrivegh—that’s our family painter, Carrivegh—paint her. And it could be a surprise for you all. Because, well. You hadn’t a mum now.”

Bramble’s lips were tight. Her fists still shook.

“Take it back,” she said. She gazed at the floor, but the words whipped. “We don’t want the picture. We don’t want your charity. Take it back!”

Teddie drew himself up to his full, towering taffy height.

“N—dash it—O!” he said. “It’s not charity and I won’t take it back! It’s a gift! A gift, dash it all! Because I liked your mum! And I like your sisters! And you, Bramble! I love you!”

The words echoed. Everyone’s hands clasped over their mouths, and they stared at Lord Teddie, who panted but kept a tight chin up. Bramble’s lips were still pursed. They were white.

“Young man,” said the King gently. “Your ship leaves soon?”

Azalea guessed that, with the fiasco of everything, the King had annulled any arrangements between Bramble and Lord Teddie. Lord Teddie’s entire taffylike form slumped. He turned to go, all bounciness dissolved.

“Do you mean it?”

Lord Teddie turned quickly. Bramble’s lips remained tight, but her gaze was up, blazing yellow.

“Gad, yes,” said Lord Teddie. “I love you so much, my fingers hurt!”

“Oh!” Bramble slapped her hands over her mouth, and doubled over. “Oh—oh-oh-oh!” She shook. It was hard to tell if she was crying, or coughing, or ill. “Oh!”

In a billow of skirts, Bramble leaped. It was a grand jeté worthy of the Delchastrian prima ballerina. She landed right on Lord Teddie, who had no choice but to catch her, and threw her arms around his neck. Then, to everyone’s shock, she pressed her lips full on his.

“Oh…my,” said Clover.

No one seemed more surprised than Lord Teddie, who stumbled back under Bramble’s assault. He staggered onto the magicked rug. In a blur of red, the rug clapped over them like a red snapdragon.

The entire package overbalanced and fell to the ground with a whumpf.

No one moved inside the rug. Everyone stared.

“Sorry,” said Eve. “What just happened?”

From the rug came a muffled Mmm mmm mmfph.

“We’d better take them out,” said Azalea. “Before they start to digest.”

With Clover’s help, she peeled the carpet back to reveal Bramble, snuggled in Lord Teddie’s arms, her nose buried in his bright green bow tie, and nearly crying.

“—the ballroom windows and when I saw you I thought I would cry, you were so brave—”

“I say,” said Lord Teddie. “I say!”

The King grasped Bramble around the middle and pulled her from Lord Teddie’s arms. The carpet end slipped from Azalea’s hands and snapped again over Lord Teddie.

“Bramble, really!” said the King.

Bramble’s face had the largest grin Azalea had ever seen on it.

The King looked at a loss. He ran his fingers through his hair, distracted. Azalea, knowing Mother would have been able to manage this, stepped forward.