Now, the cobbler’s eyes widened and Issy could almost see the coins spinning in them. “All twelve? Two pairs each? I am not sure, Your Royal Highness, this is quite a large order. I may need to buy more materials. It could be days. Weeks, even.”
Issy’s smile felt forced, she knew the game he was playing, and her part in it, well. They needed the shoes, and Master Conti was the finest cobbler in the entire kingdom. “Whatever it costs, we’ll pay double for the inconvenience. You have the measurements of all of our dancers, please deliver as many pairs as you can each day.”
Issy caught the grin on Livia’s face out of the corner of her eye. She hoped her sister wouldn’t get her hopes up too high, only to have them dashed.
“If you would like to choose from these materials, Princess. I brought some bolts of our newest silks and leathers for you to sample.” Dominic took a metal ring from his satchel and spread the attached fabrics out for Livia to see and touch. Issy saw the moment Livia’s hand brushed Dominic’s, and she didn’t fail to notice the redness that tinged his ears, or the shy smile he gave her sister. Her heart sank. It would only end one way for them, and she dreaded the thought of her sister getting hurt. If anything happened to damage Livia’s prospects, their father would be furious. Issy didn’t want to be the one to discourage her sister’s affections, but with their mother gone, who else was there to guide Livia? Certainly not that wretched Lady Fiona.
“If I may, Princess Isadora,” the cobbler began, and Issy turned to find him studying her with a curious expression on his face.
“What is it?”
The cobbler leant forwards and lowered his voice, but Livia and Dominic were chattering away about the suppleness of theleathers he had brought and showed no interest in their hushed conversation. “What are you and the others doing to wear through my shoes so quickly? Is it truly just dancing?”
Issy baulked. She hadn’t expected such impertinence, and refusing to answer the cobbler’s question could be considered incredibly rude. She knew she and Livia were a source of gossip in the town, but it galled her to know that the people of Orovia were whispering about her, suggesting all sorts of unseemly explanations for their unfortunate predicament. The curse was ruining her life, and she had to sit here and be interrogated by a lowborn tradesman about it?
She swallowed her anger, smoothing her features into a demure smile. “Of course, Master Conti. What else would it be?”
The cobbler appeared to realise his mistake, his eyes widened momentarily, and then he laughed and waved a hand in the air. “Oh, nothing. Forgive me. The townsfolk do love to gossip and invent stories.” He cleared his throat and gestured to Dominic, who began to pack away the stack of fabrics he’d been showing to Livia.
Issy stood, giving Master Conti permission to do the same, and extended a hand, which he bowed to kiss. “Thank you for your time, we do so appreciate all your hard work, Master Conti. We look forward to receiving our order and continuing to enjoy your exquisite craftmanship.”
The cobbler nodded and exited the parlour followed by Dominic, leaving Issy and Livia standing there in silence. Nina darted in through the now open door and Livia bent down to scoop the calico into her arms.
“Which materials did you choose?” Issy asked without looking at her sister.
“Materials?” Came Livia’s dreamy reply, eyes on the door where the cobbler and his apprentice had just been, her hand rhythmically stroking the cat as it purred in satisfaction.
Issy gave her sister an ironic look and flicked her braid over her shoulder. “Never mind. I’ll find out tomorrow when Dominic delivers the shoes.”
But something like anxiety gnawed at Issy’s stomach. What lengths would the cobbler go to to ensure he received regular orders? They were his best customers, and the King’s pockets were deep, but surely cursing the Princesses to dance through their slippers every night was a step too far? She pushed the thought away; Master Conti couldn’t possibly be to blame for their midnight escapades. Could he?
Chapter 9
Anders
Marco held the door to the Princesses’ rooms and Anders stepped inside. He was struck by the opulence of the space, even compared to his own guest room; dozens of cushions and pillows lay scattered across sofas and chaise longues, embroidered bedspreads and blankets were draped over hard surfaces, and the walls were hung with embossed wallpaper and delicate watercolour paintings of dancers mid-pirouette.
In comparison, the castle he’d grown up in seemed sparse and comfortless. But that was how they liked it in the north, none of this wasteful extravagance and ostentatious displays of wealth. Although, he had to admit, his guest room mattress was very comfortable.
“The King stipulated that you’re not to touch anything,” Paolo reminded him from the doorway.
Anders nodded vaguely in response and continued his search, circling around the room from the centre and working his way outwards. He peered under the sofas, tapped the wooden floorboards, and lifted the patterned rug that covered a large area of the floor with the toe of his boot. From what hecould see, there were no hidden trapdoors, no loose floorboards and no secret triggers that opened a concealed door.
Anders scratched the back of his neck and cast his eyes around the room. “Marco, could you be a gent and open this trunk for me?”
The guard joined him in the corner of the room where a leather travel trunk with gold clasps stood under an arched window overlooking the gardens. Marco hesitated.
“I just need to see what’s inside, in case it could explain how the Princesses are leaving the room each night. If it doesn’t contain a hidden staircase, you can close it immediately.” Anders gave the guard a wry smile and stood back as Marco bent to unfasten the clasps. The left pinged open with ease, but the right wouldn’t budge. Anders gave it a try himself, but the metal almost seemed to have been welded shut. Paolo abandoned his post at the door and joined them, taking out his sword and using it to leverage the lid open. The clasp broke, clattering to the ground in two pieces, but Anders didn’t care. He needed to see what was inside this trunk and why it had been sealed. Without waiting for Paolo or Marco to open it for him, he lifted the lid and gazed down at the contents of the trunk. His heart sank. There was nothing but dozens of tattered, old shoes inside. How disappointing. He’d been convinced there must be some clue to the mystery inside this trunk, but it was just as Paolo had said. There was no way the Princesses could possibly be leaving this room unseen and unheard.
Unless the conversation he’d overheard in the tavern had been right and the Princesses were leaving voluntarily. If he had been drugged, perhaps the guards were also being drugged each night and the Princesses were sneaking out once everyone was asleep…
He made his way towards Princess Isadora’s private chamber and caught a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye.The palace cat, a black, white and orange creature that he’d seen following the younger Princess around, had prowled into the room through the open door. The creature rubbed itself against Anders’ ankle before stalking away and sitting in the far corner of the room, its amber eyes still on him. He noticed a mirror hung on the wall behind the cat, reflecting himself standing in the entrance to Isadora’s room. He walked towards it, eyeing the elaborate gold frame and how it protruded from the wall. The cat mewed as he approached, and he bent to scratch it behind the ears as he studied the mirror more closely. The frame appeared to be gilt, with some chip marks on one corner, and the carvings at the top reminded him of something, although he couldn’t put a finger on what. But when Anders gripped the edge and pulled it away from the wall to see what was behind, he found nothing but smooth wallpaper and solid stone. He let out a groan of frustration.
“I need some fresh air,” he said, pushing a hand through his short, pale hair. With an empty stomach and the aftereffects of the drug he’d been slipped, he felt a little lightheaded.
“How about a stroll in the palace gardens?” Marco suggested. “They’re quite lovely this time of year. What?” He asked as Paolo stared at him with barely concealed shock.
The grey-haired guard shook his head. “Nothing, I just didn’t realise you were such a naturalist.”
