“Is Jonquil still—” Petunia started to say to Rose in a low voice, but Rose shook her head. Her eyes went to the grand duchess, seated in her usual high-backed chair with its many small pillows to cushion the elderly woman’s back.
“You all look so worn out, my dears,” said the grand duchess, whose ears had not been dimmed by her age, something Petunia always forgot. “Is it the preparations for the double wedding that keep you so busy?” She smiled at Poppy and Daisy.
“I wish,” muttered Poppy.
At the same time, from her seat on a pouf in front of Petunia’s, Iris said, “Yes, but it’s the wrong royal wedding.” Lily gave her a light poke between the shoulder blades before she could say anything else.
“How is that, my dear Iris?”
The grand duchess had remembered their names instantly upon meeting them, which impressed Petunia. She’d spent years being called Pansy or Poppy, sometimes even by her own father. And most people seemed to have trouble telling Orchid and Iris apart, despite Orchid’s wearing spectacles.
“I just … it was nothing,” Iris said, and from behind her, Petunia could see her ears turn pink.
“I think that perhaps Iris is a touch jealous,” Rose said in a confidential voice, leaning over the arm of the sofa a bit, as though sharing a secret with the grand duchess. “She is only a year younger than the twins, you know.”
“I’m not—” began Iris, but both Petunia and Lily poked her and she subsided.
“It has been most trying,” Poppy said in a posh voice that Petunia suspected was modeled after that of Lady Margaret, their mother’s cousin, a famous Bretoner society lady with whom Poppy had lived for a year. “One wedding takes quite enough planning, but two?” She threw up her hands dramatically.
Petunia had to admire Poppy’s skill at deflecting the grand duchess. Poppy, who as a child had been known for her sharp tongue and hoydenish ways, had been greatly improved by her time in Breton. Yet Petunia often got the impression that Poppy was merely playing a part, impersonating Lady Margaret, and was relieved that Poppy’s personality had not gone through a permanent transformation. She could tell that Prince Christian loved Poppy just as she was, too.
“A difficult task, indeed,” the grand duchess agreed. “I recall my own wedding, so many years ago. Russaka has always held itself aloof from the rest of Ionia, and our customs are very different. I thought my betrothed’s mother would faint from shock when she saw my wedding headdress and heard the mandolins and flutes playing instead of the church organ.”
“Did you marry here in Westfalin?” Pansy looked dreamy at the thought. If anyone was feeling a bit jealous of the twins’ upcoming marriages, reflected Petunia, it was probably Pan.
“Yes,” the grand duchess said, nodding. “My betrothed was already an earl, and I was only one of nine daughters. It was easier to send me here with my mother and two of my sisters as attendants than to bring every Westfalian noble who wished to attend to Russaka!” She laughed at the memory.
Pansy looked as though she was going to press for more details, but Hyacinth, seated on the chair just beside Petunia’s sofa, spoke up first.
“Nine daughters?” Her eyes were narrowed.
“Yes, it was considered a lot, until your mother went three further than mine!” The old lady cackled good-naturedly.
Hyacinth muttered under her breath, “I wonder who her mother bargained with to get nine daughters.”
“My mother didn’t make any bargains,” the grand duchess said coolly, and Hyacinth looked nonplussed at being heard.
Petunia wondered if any of her sisters caught the emphasis on the word “mother.” Did she, then, know someone who had made a bargain with a supernatural being? Who? The grand duchess herself? If she had in fact borne a son to the King Under Stone … no, Petunia couldn’t even think it of her.
“Now, we must get you rested before your husbands join us tomorrow!” The grand duchess got to her feet, moving to the door of the parlor. “Though I find it most strange that none of them came with you,” she added.
“Galen and Heinrich had business in Bruch,” Rose said. There was a small line between her brows, and Petunia wondered just what the cousins were doing. “And Poppy and Daisy’s husbands-to-be had to return to the Danelaw and Venenzia to make their own preparations for the wedding.”
“But lucky Violet’s husband is coming tomorrow,” Daisy said.
“Ah, the Archduke von Schwabian’s son,” the grand duchess said, and Petunia thought she detected a slight curl to the older woman’s lip. “The musical one.”
“He’s picking up a new cello from the luthier,” Violet said, as though it was a matter of grave political importance.
“And yours? Where is your husband?” The grand duchess looked at Hyacinth.
“He’s going to Venenzia with Ricard, actually,” Hyacinth said, a blush staining her cheeks. “He wished to consult with a physician there.”
They were all poised to follow the grand duchess into the hall, but she stood unmoving in the doorway. “None of you have children, correct?” The question was shockingly blunt.
Lily swayed and Lilac put her arm around her older sister. Petunia glanced up at Rose and saw Rose’s jaw clench. Someone gave a little gasp, and Petunia looked at Hyacinth, but Hyacinth’s expression was cool, her blush gone. It was Orchid whose mouth was open in shock, her eyes flashing behind her spectacles.
“No,” Rose said finally. “None of the four of us who are married have children.” Her voice was steady, but deeper than normal.
“What a shame,” the grand duchess said. “It’s children that really tie a man and woman together.”
“If I may be shown to my room,” Lily said. “This has all quite worn me out.”
“And I as well,” Jonquil said, moving to stand beside Lily. The two of them together looked like they might simply break in half if a strong draft blew through the room.
“Of course,” said the grand duchess. “Come into the front hall, and I’ll have the maids show you up. I’m afraid that the stairs have become too much for me.” The grand duchess’s private apartments were on the main floor overlooking the gardens. In fact, they were directly below Petunia’s room, and Petunia wondered if she’d seen Kestilan and his shadowy brethren coming across the lawns at night.
After the sisters had been shown to their rooms and thanked the maids for working so swiftly to unpack the princesses’ luggage, they all gathered in Rose’s sitting room. The maids tried to crowd in as well, but Rose sent them off with a few firm words and a quick close of the door.
“What’s happening?” Petunia asked as soon as she was sure the maids were out of earshot.
“Galen and Heinrich are setting your young man free,” Rose said. “That’s why they won’t be joining us until tomorrow. They wanted to make sure that we were out of the way, and so was Father. Dr. Kelling is taking him to the fortress for a few days, to clear his head.”
“My young man? Setting him free?” Petunia stared at her. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Rosie. What young man?”
“The handsome bandit earl,” Poppy supplied.
Petunia felt her mouth slip open. “Oliver?”
“Yes,” Rose said, and gave Poppy a quelling look before she could say anything else. “He came to Bruch last week and confessed to leading the bandits, and to abducting you.”
“He did? Why would he do that?”
Petunia felt like the floor had just dropped out from under her feet. She sank down onto the very edge of a sofa, and Lilac, grumbling, made room for her. Having the leader of the Wolves of the Westfalian Woods turn himself in after all attempts to capture him had failed was likely to have put her father in a very dangerous mood.