[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
For the next hours, I sew in silence, the only sound
being the steady rhythm of needle in fabric. Finally, the old
woman, seeming pleased with the length of my stitches,
which I have purposely made minuscule, to take up more
time, allows me a small supper of bean soup. I hope that
she will not require me to sew any more for the day. I wish
to extend the job over as many days as possible.
Over supper, I glance at the departing sun and play
with a streamer of silk in my lap. I have stolen it from the
leftover scraps for I love its feel. This is excellent soup, I
say. I eat slowly, one bean at a time.
Surely not what you are used to at the castle, she barks.
314
Surely not. Mistress Pyrtle, the cook, was no artist with
soups. Too salty. But you must remember that?
No response. I try again.
I heard you tell the men who came that you used to
work at the castle. Is that true?
Malvolia s black eyes narrow. You know tis.
I know nothing of the sort. I was told nothing.
Indeed? She thinks upon it a bit, staring at the hori-
zon. No, I am not surprised at that. Why would your
father tell you anything other than that I was evil, bent
upon your destruction?
And is that not the truth?
But I say, Mainly, we discussed what I must avoid
spindles something I did not do very well. We discussed
it . . . frequently.
Malvolia laughs. The spindle-pricking was inevitable.
With my spell, I assured it was so. I took great amusement
in seeing your father s pathetic efforts to prevent it.
To protect me. I wonder why, if it was so inevitable, the
old woman bothered to come to the castle herself on the eve
of my sixteenth birthday, to present me with the spindle.
Was she nervous?
As if hearing my thoughts, Malvolia says, I brought
the spindle myself because I wanted to see that it had been
done, so I did it myself.
Nice. But I say, I am glad you told me that it was inevi-
table, for I have been blaming myself, or rather, Father has
been blaming me.
315
Malvolia laughs. That does not surprise me. Aye, he
was always one to place blame.
What did he blame you for that you did not deserve?
I cry out. You cursed me. You made me sleep three hun-
dred years! And now, when I have been wakened, you are
making excuses, saying that the curse was not properly bro-
ken, so that you might bring me back.
I should not have had such an outburst. Now that the
scalding words are out, it is impossible to push them back.
I am speaking of before that, Princess, when I was but a
seamstress in the castle, and he was an all-powerful king.
What happened? Can there be a reason for Malvolia s
animosity other than merely not being invited to the party?
Tis of no import. She gestures toward the table.
Clear the dishes, and if you can do so with no more imper-
tinent questions, I will allow you to read to me instead of
sewing away the evening. My eyesight is too poor to see the
stitches in the waning light, and I do not trust your clumsy
hands.
I suspect her eyesight is perfect. Still, I follow her
instructions, then read to her from the only book in the
house, the Bible, until the light wanes so that I cannot see,
even with a candle.
316
Chapter 41:
Jack
j
he flight to Brussels is only an hour. Travis meets us at
Tthe airport.
Dude! I say when I see him at the rental car place.
Thanks for coming.
No worries, man. I wanted to get out of that
castle before the king threw me in the dungeon as an
accessory.
My dad finishes renting the car and says to Travis, So
you believe all this, then, the kingdom and the curse, and
that there s a princess being held by a witch?
Travis shakes his head. I know it sounds like we re
smoking weed, Mr. O Neill, but Scout s honor, I saw it
with my own eyes. And I had to help out because I feel
sort of responsible, seeing as how we woke them up and
everything.
317
My dad nods. It s important to fulfill one s responsi-
bilities. He looks at me.
Can we go? I say. Talia could be getting stabbed to
death with a spindle right now.
I m not really serious when I say it, but after the words
come out, I sort of am. I want to see Talia again. I want her
to be okay. And I want it to be now.
318
Chapter 42:
alia
T
j
alvolia does not bind me or place me under a spell
Mduring the night. Rather, she enchants the locks on
the windows and doors so that I cannot escape without
her knowledge. Jack s family had a similar invention in the
twenty-first century, an alarm system, it was called.
When morning comes, I return to sewing. The bodice
is nearly finished but for the buttonholes. The skirt should
be short work. I hope I might live another night.
I stop to admire my handiwork.
Keep at it, Malvolia snaps. She has been in a particu-
larly sour mood today.
I am sorry. It is just so . . . lovely. I must try again
to strike up a conversation with her. It is my only hope of
survival. You have been kind to me. Were you to release
me, I would speak to Father on your behalf. I would
319
persuade him to make amends . . . for not inviting you to
my christening party.
Your christening party? Is that what you believe this to
be about?
That is what I was told, and you have not told me
otherwise. Is it not the case? I make one small stitch, then
pause, awaiting her response.
No. It is not. She glances at the stitches, and I believe
she will hurry me on, but instead she says, Were I you, I
would not be so determined to live. Your father is angry for
what you did. You have destroyed his kingdom. Indeed, it
may not be a kingdom at all, and he may not be a king.
And as for your marital prospects, any prince you might
have married is dead. What have you to live for?
It seems that if I had nothing to live for, allowing me to
live would be far worse punishment than killing me. But I
say, I am in love.
Impossible. But the old lady leans toward me. With
whom could you be in love?
His name is Jack. I abandon my sewing entirely. He
is the boy who kissed me awake. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl ocenkijessi.opx.pl
For the next hours, I sew in silence, the only sound
being the steady rhythm of needle in fabric. Finally, the old
woman, seeming pleased with the length of my stitches,
which I have purposely made minuscule, to take up more
time, allows me a small supper of bean soup. I hope that
she will not require me to sew any more for the day. I wish
to extend the job over as many days as possible.
Over supper, I glance at the departing sun and play
with a streamer of silk in my lap. I have stolen it from the
leftover scraps for I love its feel. This is excellent soup, I
say. I eat slowly, one bean at a time.
Surely not what you are used to at the castle, she barks.
314
Surely not. Mistress Pyrtle, the cook, was no artist with
soups. Too salty. But you must remember that?
No response. I try again.
I heard you tell the men who came that you used to
work at the castle. Is that true?
Malvolia s black eyes narrow. You know tis.
I know nothing of the sort. I was told nothing.
Indeed? She thinks upon it a bit, staring at the hori-
zon. No, I am not surprised at that. Why would your
father tell you anything other than that I was evil, bent
upon your destruction?
And is that not the truth?
But I say, Mainly, we discussed what I must avoid
spindles something I did not do very well. We discussed
it . . . frequently.
Malvolia laughs. The spindle-pricking was inevitable.
With my spell, I assured it was so. I took great amusement
in seeing your father s pathetic efforts to prevent it.
To protect me. I wonder why, if it was so inevitable, the
old woman bothered to come to the castle herself on the eve
of my sixteenth birthday, to present me with the spindle.
Was she nervous?
As if hearing my thoughts, Malvolia says, I brought
the spindle myself because I wanted to see that it had been
done, so I did it myself.
Nice. But I say, I am glad you told me that it was inevi-
table, for I have been blaming myself, or rather, Father has
been blaming me.
315
Malvolia laughs. That does not surprise me. Aye, he
was always one to place blame.
What did he blame you for that you did not deserve?
I cry out. You cursed me. You made me sleep three hun-
dred years! And now, when I have been wakened, you are
making excuses, saying that the curse was not properly bro-
ken, so that you might bring me back.
I should not have had such an outburst. Now that the
scalding words are out, it is impossible to push them back.
I am speaking of before that, Princess, when I was but a
seamstress in the castle, and he was an all-powerful king.
What happened? Can there be a reason for Malvolia s
animosity other than merely not being invited to the party?
Tis of no import. She gestures toward the table.
Clear the dishes, and if you can do so with no more imper-
tinent questions, I will allow you to read to me instead of
sewing away the evening. My eyesight is too poor to see the
stitches in the waning light, and I do not trust your clumsy
hands.
I suspect her eyesight is perfect. Still, I follow her
instructions, then read to her from the only book in the
house, the Bible, until the light wanes so that I cannot see,
even with a candle.
316
Chapter 41:
Jack
j
he flight to Brussels is only an hour. Travis meets us at
Tthe airport.
Dude! I say when I see him at the rental car place.
Thanks for coming.
No worries, man. I wanted to get out of that
castle before the king threw me in the dungeon as an
accessory.
My dad finishes renting the car and says to Travis, So
you believe all this, then, the kingdom and the curse, and
that there s a princess being held by a witch?
Travis shakes his head. I know it sounds like we re
smoking weed, Mr. O Neill, but Scout s honor, I saw it
with my own eyes. And I had to help out because I feel
sort of responsible, seeing as how we woke them up and
everything.
317
My dad nods. It s important to fulfill one s responsi-
bilities. He looks at me.
Can we go? I say. Talia could be getting stabbed to
death with a spindle right now.
I m not really serious when I say it, but after the words
come out, I sort of am. I want to see Talia again. I want her
to be okay. And I want it to be now.
318
Chapter 42:
alia
T
j
alvolia does not bind me or place me under a spell
Mduring the night. Rather, she enchants the locks on
the windows and doors so that I cannot escape without
her knowledge. Jack s family had a similar invention in the
twenty-first century, an alarm system, it was called.
When morning comes, I return to sewing. The bodice
is nearly finished but for the buttonholes. The skirt should
be short work. I hope I might live another night.
I stop to admire my handiwork.
Keep at it, Malvolia snaps. She has been in a particu-
larly sour mood today.
I am sorry. It is just so . . . lovely. I must try again
to strike up a conversation with her. It is my only hope of
survival. You have been kind to me. Were you to release
me, I would speak to Father on your behalf. I would
319
persuade him to make amends . . . for not inviting you to
my christening party.
Your christening party? Is that what you believe this to
be about?
That is what I was told, and you have not told me
otherwise. Is it not the case? I make one small stitch, then
pause, awaiting her response.
No. It is not. She glances at the stitches, and I believe
she will hurry me on, but instead she says, Were I you, I
would not be so determined to live. Your father is angry for
what you did. You have destroyed his kingdom. Indeed, it
may not be a kingdom at all, and he may not be a king.
And as for your marital prospects, any prince you might
have married is dead. What have you to live for?
It seems that if I had nothing to live for, allowing me to
live would be far worse punishment than killing me. But I
say, I am in love.
Impossible. But the old lady leans toward me. With
whom could you be in love?
His name is Jack. I abandon my sewing entirely. He
is the boy who kissed me awake. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]