Artread a label on the parchment. It was fragile with age, and it crinkled under her fingertips.
No, it wasn’t parchment at all, but a page from an adventure novel, much like the ones the duchess read. A note was written in the corner:
I’ll meet you at the fork in the tunnels tomorrow at noon. Ferdinand intends to destroy it. —Ginny
Could this note be from Duchess Genevieve? And the note in the other book she’d found—Art... That was the name of her husband, Arthur!
Cinderella reread the note over and over again, unable to believe what she’d found. Was it the Grand Duke who’d had the magical archives destroyed? Had he aided his father in the ban?
Slowly, the pieces came together. Magic must have caused the animosity between Genevieve and the Grand Duke—was it the reason the duke had asked Cinderella to spy on her?
Before she could seek more answers, footsteps approached, and Cinderella sprang up in alarm. As quickly as she could, she rolled up the note and returned it to the book.
“Cinderella! What are you doing here?”
It was Louisa and two other seamstresses—Cinderella recognized Gisele and Victoria from Blooms and Looms—followed closely by the royal librarian.
“I... I was just getting some books for the duchess.”
“You!” cried Mr. Ravel. “You aren’t allowed to be moseying about the royal archives. I thought you’d left—”
“I’m finished,” Cinderella said quickly.
“So are we,” said Louisa, grabbing Cinderella and her friends by the arms. “Thank you for your help!”
Once the girls raced out of the library, Louisa gave in to a fit of giggles. “Did you see how upset he was? ‘You aren’t allowed to be moseying about the royal archives.’ ”
“And the way he latched on to us the whole time!” Victoria added.
“As if we were going to steal his precious books.”
Cinderella laughed, too. “Why were you three in the library?”
“The head seamstress asked us to compile some designs for a dress for Duchess Genevieve. She’s going to have a welcome banquet at some point, so we need to be prepared in case she wants a gown made for the occasion.”
“Cinderella, you work for her. Maybe you can help us.”
“I could,” she mumbled as they passed the hall of portraits once more. Except this time Cinderella’s eyes picked out the faded sun lines on the brocade wallpaper, a telltale sign that some paintings had come and gone. The frames for the former Grand Duke’s portraits were more ill-fitting than most—and she thought of what Mr. Ravel had said about the destruction of all paintings about magic. What must have been in this hall before? Portraits of fairy godparents to the royal family, perhaps?
“Cinderella?” Louisa said, tapping her shoulder.
“Sorry, my mind was elsewhere.”
“I’ve noticed,” said her friend dryly. “You have a habit of disappearing into your daydreams.”
“She’ll want to wear something black,” Cinderella said. “She doesn’t talk about him often, but she’s still in mourning for her husband.”
“You think so?” said Gisele. “I would have thought she’d be glad he died. He was the reason she left the palace in the first place.”
“Do you know why he was banished?” Cinderella asked.
Victoria shrugged. “Something about a disagreement with the king.”
“There’s an unwritten rule not to speak of it,” said Louisa, glancing over her shoulder to make sure the guards couldn’t hear. “My father used to attend the Duke of Orlanne... back when I was a little girl, but he’s never said anything about what happened. Not even Aunt Irmina will talk about it.”
“Why not?” asked Cinderella.
“Let’s just say there are spies all around the palace... and people have been dismissed for less.”
