A Dance of Silver and Shadow: A Retelling of The Twelve Dancing Princesses (Beyond the Four Kingdoms Book 1) Read online

  “The Princesses need to come with us now.” The newcomer reached forward and gently gripped my upper arm, attempting to lead me off the ship. “The Emissary will remain to explain everything. And you may follow as soon as the extra carriages arrive.”

  I dug my heels in and glanced back at the baron and baroness. They both looked concerned, but I could read the truth in their eyes. They could do nothing against the might of this entire land. Even the ship we stood on was theirs. We would have to acquiesce and hope for the best.

  I stopped resisting and gripped Sophie’s hand, dragging her along behind me.

  Don’t worry, Lily, you know they can’t separate us. Not truly. Sophie looked at me knowingly, and I felt a renewed sense of justification for keeping our secret.

  No one in all the kingdoms knew about our connection. Not since Nanny had passed away the previous year. She alone had known the true effect of the gift our godmother had given at our Christening. A greater bond than ever twins have shared before. And she had always advised us to keep it to ourselves.

  “Your special secret,” Nanny had told us as children, and “Your special weapon,” as we had grown older. “It will unnerve others, unnecessarily,” she had warned. “You have no need to speak of it.”

  I had wondered, sometimes, if she was wrong. If we should have told our family at least. But now I tucked the knowledge of the secret close. There was no way anyone in Marin could have heard of our connection so, whatever happened, we had one unexpected advantage.

  The Marinese herded Celine along behind us and within moments had bustled us all into a waiting carriage. Their attempts to shut the door were hampered by Celine’s outstretched foot. “Wait,” she said. “Where are we going?”

  “To the Palace, of course, Your Highness,” was the reply, before the door was forcibly closed. Celine collapsed back onto a seat, and I took her place, peering out the window.

  The carriage jolted and started to move, and I watched the distant figures on the ship recede farther and farther away. Was it only minutes ago I had been comforted by the presence of the older nobles? It looked like I wasn’t going to be able to rely on them to fix things, after all. My earlier instinct had been right. If we wanted to stay safe, we would have to rely on ourselves.

  Chapter 2

  “So what do you think about this ceremony?” asked Celine. “Are they carting us off to be innocent sacrifices? Ooh, or maybe we’re going to be part of a coup?”

  “Celine!” Sophie sounded shocked. She’s ridiculous, she projected, apparently not wanting to offend our friend by saying the words aloud.

  I had no such qualms. “You seem rather buoyant if you think we’re about to become maidens sacrificed to a horrible beast, or some such. And I can’t imagine what good we would do anyone in a coup.”

  “Speak for yourself, Lily.” Celine smiled over at me before positioning herself at the opposite window. “It’s big, isn’t it?” She watched the city rolling past.

  “The Emissary said the whole duchy is one giant city,” said Sophie, attempting to peer over my shoulder. “There must be a lot of people here with all those ships in the harbor.”

  “I suspect they’ve come for this Princess Tourney,” I said. “That would explain why the Emissary looked so confused at seeing them all.”

  “What in the kingdoms do you think a Princess Tourney involves?” Sophie looked a little nervous.

  “Sword fights? Jousts? Hey, maybe they’ll have an archery competition. Marie’s been helping me with my aim.” Celine’s older sister-in-law had become something of an expert archer in recent years, but I didn’t have the same confidence in Celine’s skills.

  “I hope not. The Emissary never said anything about all their princesses being expert warriors.” I frowned. “Of course, he didn’t say anything about a tourney either.”

  The numerous stone buildings of the city seemed clean and prosperous, as the Emissary had described. But I received the inescapable impression of age and fatigue. Curtains, clothes, awnings—everything looked a little faded. Only the flowers maintained their bright cheerfulness.

  The people themselves seemed excited, however, flocking through the streets in droves. Many were headed in the same direction we were—toward the palace. But others were occupied selling their wares, and still others stopped to point at our carriage and exclaim loudly or whisper to their companions.

  “There must be a lot of people going to this opening ceremony,” said Celine, still gazing out the window.

  I pulled back. “Do the people seem…happy to you?”

  Sophie pushed past to take my place. “Not exactly. It doesn’t have the same air that a celebration in Arcadia has. It feels almost...” She glanced back at me, her eyes wide with concern.

  “Apprehensive,” said Celine, the light-hearted humor from earlier replaced with grim seriousness. “Excited but a little bit afraid would be my assessment.”

  “Look,” Sophie pointed out the window. The palace had come into view.

  The imposing stone building looked older than the rest of the city but also lighter somehow. Its towers soared over the duchy in graceful spires, bright with flags. Somehow the sight of it drove away some of my anxiety. “It’s beautiful.”

  “At least we should know what’s going on soon enough,” said Celine, apparently unimpressed by the elegant structure.

  “Since I’m a year older, you’d better let me go in first,” she added, as the carriage rattled through the palace gates and into the courtyard.

  I snorted. “Yes, because that extra year definitely makes you more fit to face coups and sacrifices.”

  Sophie smiled at our friend. “That’s very brave of you, Celine. But whatever is coming, we’ll face it together.”

  Celine sighed. “You know I have six older siblings, right? You could consider letting me have my moment of glory.”

  Sophie looked down, biting back a smile. “If there’s any glory to be had, I promise to step briskly to the side.”

  Celine looked at her, a twinkle in her eye, but her voice grave. “Thank you, Sophie, I appreciate that.” She pushed open the door of the carriage and stepped out, waving away the assistance of two footmen who rushed forward.

  She looked backwards over her shoulder. “Come on twins, it’s time to show these people what princesses from the Four Kingdoms are made of.”

  We followed her as a throng of waiting officials ushered us into the palace. Our arrival appeared to have produced a wave of relief and a great deal of noise. The man from the dock had led us to the palace, and he now rushed us through the building and into a small receiving room.

  I had only a brief impression of smooth stone, long corridors, intricate tapestries and elegant furniture before the door closed, shutting us in. The room held nothing but a slightly threadbare rug that looked as if it had once been plush. But a bevy of women awaited us, their moving limbs and lowered voices making the space appear crowded.

  They descended on us immediately, exclaiming with relief and smoothing our dresses and hair.

  “We’ve been in such a panic,” said the one who appeared to be their leader, as she patted at my windswept curls. “Word arrived this morning that the Emissary had reached the harbor, and that he had brought a foreign princess with him.”

  “Who could have dreamed it would be three foreign princesses!” interrupted another. “Such unfortunate timing.”

  “What do you think would have happened if they had arrived the day after the opening ceremony?” One of the women paused in her useless flitting.

  A momentary stillness swept through the room as the other women considered this question. Then the leader shook her head and returned to her task. “Perhaps they would have been free of the whole thing. Or perhaps they would have brought down curses on all our heads. That doesn’t matter now, though, because they’re here.”

  Curses? Sophie projected, wisely refraining from attempting to speak above the babble.

  Well, she di
d say if we didn’t arrive today, I pointed out. So, hopefully that means we’re safe from curses.

  Sophie met my eyes. And maybe it means the Marinese really are being forced into this, whatever it is. Maybe they do have our best interests at heart, like the Emissary keeps saying.

  Then why don’t I feel heartened? I raised an eyebrow, and she shook her head back at me. I was glad to see her sense of humor remained intact.

  In the distance, a trumpet fanfare sounded. A side door swung open, and a footman stuck his head in. “The first of them has already been announced,” he said to the room at large.

  “No time for more, then, they’ll have to go as they are,” said the leader, sweeping her arms out in a clear command for the rest of the women to move away from us.

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” muttered Celine. “And here I was, thinking I’d worn one of my best gowns for our arrival.”

  I shook my head. “You know perfectly well you look stunning in that dress, Celine.”

  “I do, don’t I?” Celine flashed a satisfied smile at us as two of the women thrust her out of the room.

  You know I love her, but she’s a bit much sometimes, I projected.

  Sophie disappeared from the room, propelled by the leader of the women. She wouldn’t be Celine if she wasn’t, she pointed out, her voice sounding in my head as if no distance separated us. We had tested it when we were younger and had yet to find a physical limitation that affected our ability to communicate.

  The remaining women gestured for me to follow my sister. I found myself in a large stone hall facing a tall double doorway. The trumpet fanfare sounded again, and a loud voice proclaimed, “I present the eleventh contestant—Her Royal Highness, Princess Sophia of Arcadia.”

  I could see Sophie’s back as she stepped through the doorway and began to walk down a long, red carpet. A large crowd on both sides of the aisle pressed forward, whispering loudly to each other.

  Whoa, Lily, there are a lot of people! Sophie sounded amused. Don’t forget to smile.

  I had barely registered the truth of her words before the fanfare sounded again, and the herald announced, “I present the twelfth and final contestant—Her Royal Highness, Princess Liliana of Arcadia.” A hand in the small of my back thrust me forward, and I stepped through the open doors.

  Are there really nine other contestants? I kept my pace steady and my expression confident. How many princesses do these lands have?

  It’s the princes I’m more interested in, Sophie replied with a giggle.

  A moment later I advanced far enough to see the front of the great hall. The crowds were packed in with standing room only, but two thrones faced the crowd with a row of chairs extending to either side. The occupants of all of the chairs, including the thrones, were standing facing me as I moved toward them.

  An older couple wearing circlets, presumably the duke and duchess of Marin, stood in front of the thrones. My eyes skated over another older couple standing to the duke’s right with a child beside them. They then travelled across to the left of the duchess and snagged on four young men. Four handsome young men wearing circlets of their own.

  The princes all looked tall and strong but otherwise nothing alike. How many different kingdoms did they represent? Was I destined to make a marriage alliance with one of them?

  I was hoping there might be twins, Sophie projected.

  You never know, I replied, they could be non-identical.

  Maybe. She giggled again in my head. I like the look of the one on the end.

  I could understand why. He had a contemplative, melancholy look sure to appeal to Sophie’s soft heart. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, I projected back. We have to survive this Tourney before we can think about alliances.

  Sophie sent me an image of rolled eyes. I wasn’t thinking about alliances. I was thinking about how handsome he looks.

  I was about to scold her, when my eyes caught on the prince standing next to the duchess. He had broad shoulders and chestnut hair that looked as if it was about to flop into his eyes. But it wasn’t his unquestionable good looks that caught my attention. It was the expression of unmistakable horror in his warm brown eyes as they rested on me.

  I almost recoiled. I might look a little mussed from our mad dash to the palace, but I couldn’t imagine anything about my appearance worthy of such a response. I met his gaze with a glare, while calling out silently for my twin.

  Sophie! Is there something wrong with my dress? Or my face?

  I had reached the end of the aisle and found a line of richly dressed girls spread out at the front of the crowd, facing the duke and the other royals. I took my place next to Sophie, and she turned slightly to examine me.

  No, you look fine. Why?

  I didn’t reply because the duke had started to speak, and I didn’t want to miss my chance to find out what was going on.

  “Welcome fair contestants of the Princess Tourney of Prince Dominic of Palinar.”

  I glanced at the row of princes again. Was one of them Prince Dominic?

  “It is our honor to host this Tourney on behalf of Palinar. I, Philip, Duke of Marin, commit to housing all contestants, and their retinues, for the length of the competition. I remind you all that anyone who attempts to interfere with, or in any way disrupt, the fair running of the Princess Tourney shall forfeit their life. So say our laws.”

  “So say our laws,” echoed the crowd behind me. I glanced uneasily at Sophie and Celine. I didn’t like this talk of forfeiting lives.

  The duke scanned the row of girls in front of him. “By standing before me, you have bound yourselves to complete this Tourney. The winner shall be declared on the first day of summer…”

  That’s weeks away! Sophie’s surprise echoed through my mind.

  “…and the winning princess shall immediately be bound by legal betrothal to Prince Dominic of Palinar.”

  Ah. I should have guessed. Why else would there be a competition of princesses? But what kind of kingdom was Palinar? And what kind of prince was Dominic? I needed more information before I knew whether this was a competition I wanted to win. Or perhaps my duty to Arcadia meant I should attempt to win regardless. We had come here to make alliances, after all.

  Chapter 3

  An hour later, I stood in another small room flanked by Sophie and Celine. A modest gap separated us from the nine other princesses who mingled and whispered amongst themselves. Plenty of glances were sent our way, but none of them seemed to know what to make of such unexpected late arrivals. I took the opportunity to examine them.

  “They’re so young!” said Sophie quietly.

  “Too young.” Celine’s grim voice had reappeared.

  I had to agree. Another set of identical twins looked barely thirteen and terrified. They clung to each other and barely spoke. And at least two of the other girls looked almost as young. Looking from face to face, I suspected that Celine at eighteen must be the oldest.

  “We can’t compete against children,” said Celine. “Where’s the integrity of that?”

  “You heard the duke.” I shook my head. “We are all legally bound now. And they don’t seem to take interference lightly.” I gave her a significant look.

  Two girls with particularly cold expressions stood alone and silent to one side of the room. One of them looked barely more than a child, but the other didn’t look much younger than us. Something about their expressions irritated me, and I admitted to myself that I wouldn’t mind beating either one of them in some sort of contest.

  Another older girl also stood apart. But her beautiful face held such a heartbroken expression I wanted to give her a hug rather than a lesson. The remaining four girls stood in a tight huddle, glancing our way much more frequently than the others.

  “Do you think they’ll let us speak to the baron and baroness soon?” asked Sophie, looking around for some sort of official or servant. I just hoped our delegation heads had made it to the palace.

  “Tradition
requires that the contestants speak to no one between the opening ceremony and the opening ball. Except for each other, of course.” The oldest looking girl from the huddle had approached us, the other three trailing behind her, their faces open and curious. “But you’ll be free to speak to whomever you like at the ball. And I’m sure your delegations will be there.”

  She dropped a small curtsey. “I’m Princess Millicent of Trione, by the way. But everyone calls me Millie.”

  We all gave return curtsies and murmured our own introductions.

  I like her.

  I had to agree. Millie’s friendly smile was a welcome sight after the madness of the last couple of hours.

  “This is Lilac, Hazel and Marigold of Marin,” she added, pointing to the three girls behind her in what appeared to be descending order of ages. Seeing the three princesses in closer range, it was obvious they were sisters. But even the oldest looked barely mature enough for a betrothal tourney.

  “Isn’t Marin a duchy?” asked Celine.

  “Yes,” spoke up Lilac, the eldest of the sisters. “But the children of the ruling duke and duchess are given the honorary title of prince or princess. I used to be glad, but now…”

  “You don’t want to be a princess anymore?” asked Sophie.

  “Only princesses have to compete in the Tourney,” explained Hazel, the middle sister.

  “And you don’t want to compete?” Sophie sounded sympathetic.

  “Only because it’s Prince Dominic! He’s scary,” whispered Marigold, the youngest.

  Hazel elbowed her in the side. “You’re too young, anyway. You shouldn’t have to compete.”

  “I wouldn’t mind if it was Prince Gabriel.” Marigold giggled. “He’s cute.”

  “None of the princes looked scary to me,” I said, hoping to reassure her and allay my curiosity at the same time. “Which one was Prince Dominic?”