When she reached Jonquil and the fox-faced man, Petunia stopped them with a firm hand on Jonquil’s arm. “Come, darling,” Petunia said, “let’s get you freshened up.”
“She must dance,” said Jonquil’s partner, leering down at her.
“She needs to retire for a moment,” Petunia said, trying to pry the courtier’s fingers from Jonquil’s thin arm.
“No,” the foxy man snarled.
“Say no to me one more time,” Petunia snarled back, “and I will have you killed. And if you think I won’t, and if you think Rionin won’t, then you don’t know either of us very well.”
Petunia caught Jonquil around the waist as the fox-faced man pushed her away. At the archway that led to the hall, Tirolian had his hands locked around Daisy’s waist as though preventing her from fleeing.
“Daisy doesn’t need freshening up,” he said. “She’s just come back from the retiring room, haven’t you, my pet?”
“Pet is my nickname, if you must know,” Petunia told him. “Now make way; Jonquil is faint.”
As they walked around Daisy and Tirolian, Petunia had to fight the urge to give Daisy some sign that all would be well. But she could feel Oliver’s hand on her back, urging her on, and knew that the least hint of something amiss would ruin their chances. Tirolian was watching, so they went quickly into the retiring room.
“I can’t take it,” Jonquil said, bursting into fresh tears. She sank down on stool covered in threadbare velvet.
“Shhh,” Pansy said, wiping at their older sister’s face with her handkerchief. “We’re going now, please don’t cry.”
“Now?” Jonquil gulped, looking around. “Are Galen and Oliver … ?” She stopped crying and got to her feet with visible effort. “I’m ready.”
Petunia had stayed near the door while Oliver kept watch just outside. The door opened a crack and his voice came in softly.
“It’s clear.”
“Let’s go,” Petunia whispered.
They walked swiftly through the front hall to the palace doors. One was ajar, but Petunia didn’t have time to wonder about it, just kept going as she half carried Jonquil.
“The boats are there,” Oliver whispered. “I’ll row you across and—”
“Hello, Olga,” Petunia said.
They stopped short a few paces from the boats. Olga was sitting in one, trying to row even though the boat was too far out of the water to actually move.
“Where are you going?” Olga eyed them suspiciously.
“We were going to hide in the silver wood, to get away from our princes for a time,” Petunia said. Jonquil let out a little moan, and Petunia squeezed her waist to make her stop.
Olga looked outraged and started to say something, but Petunia cut her off.
“Do you want us to help you across? You’re not going to get far, otherwise,” Petunia said.
“What are you doing?” Oliver whispered in her ear.
“Pan and I will row Jonquil and Olga across,” she murmured, trying not to move her lips. “You get Orchid and Lilac.”
“Are you sure?”
Petunia decided that she had had quite enough of everyone doubting her.
“Come on, Jonquil,” she said, pulling her sister toward the boat. Pansy trailed behind, looking uncertain. “We’ll help you get to your darling Grigori,” Petunia told Olga, “but you keep your mouth shut about what we’re doing, all right?”
Olga still looked suspicious.
“Do you love Grigori or not?” Petunia wanted to slap the girl. How dare she sit there like a mule; did she not realize that Petunia and her sisters were in grave danger and it was partially her fault?
“Get in,” Olga said. “I’ll keep quiet.”
Petunia installed Jonquil in the bow, and Olga moved to the stern. Petunia sat in the middle and Pansy pushed them easily down into the water. Petunia could tell that Oliver was helping her, and just hoped that Olga wasn’t looking when Pansy miraculously leaped into the boat without getting her skirts wet.
“It’s too easy,” Jonquil whispered.
Rescuer
Once Petunia was well under way with Pansy and Jonquil, Oliver ran back to the ballroom. He scanned the room, but of course there was no sign of Galen. Then Oliver realized: they were supposed to take the princesses out youngest to oldest, to avoid confusion … but he didn’t know who came after Pansy. Iris? Lilac?
Then he saw one of them coming his way. It was Orchid, with the spectacles. She had spilled something purple on her skirt and was holding it up so it wouldn’t drip on the floor.
“Clumsy me,” she called almost gaily over her shoulder. “I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll help you,” said another one. Lilac?
“Hurry,” Oliver muttered as they passed him.
The other one—Lilac, he was almost certain—jumped.
“Sorry,” Oliver muttered.
“Galen’s bringing Violet,” Orchid whispered. “See if you can get Iris away from Derivos.” She gave a little flutter with her free hand in the direction of the dais.
“Thanks,” Oliver murmured.
Iris was engaged in heated debate with her prince right at the foot of the dais. Lily had gotten up from her throne, and Rose was moving toward them as well.
“It’s just not fair,” Iris was saying shrilly. “Why can’t I be with Blathen? And you’ve always had your eyes on Rose, Derivos, don’t deny it!” She jabbed Derivos’s chest with one finger.
“You want to marry Blathen?” Derivos was plainly baffled by this turn of events.
The King Under Stone sat on his throne, laughing.
Oliver could see what Iris was doing. She was causing a diversion so the others could slip away. But he’d heard about their escape ten years ago, and that diversion. When it had ended, the king had seen immediately that the most of the princesses were gone. If Rionin saw through Iris’s ploy before the others were out …
“It’s just not fair,” Iris said, beginning to cry. “You get to trade us or cast us aside! And we’re stuck with your decision! It’s just not fair!”
“Of course it’s not fair,” said Poppy, coming forward and putting her arm around Iris’s waist. “When have they ever been fair?” She glared at Rionin.
“Come, dear, you’re not yourself. Let’s go get something to drink,” said Daisy, coming up on Iris’s other side.
That was nine of them, Oliver calculated. Nine of them out safely, if the twins managed to sneak Iris out now. Leaving Hyacinth, Rose, and Lily. There would have to be another diversion, Oliver realized. A big one. They’d hoped to slip the princesses out without resorting to extreme measures, but Oliver’s stomach was twisting with fear and he knew they needed to go, now.
Galen had the same thought.
“Grab Rose, Lily, and Hya,” came the crown prince’s voice in his ear. “I’m going to make some noise.”
“Right,” Oliver whispered.
Galen didn’t wait long. Oliver was just reaching for Rose’s arm when the far wall of the ballroom exploded outward in a maelstrom of black shards. Everyone screamed, including Oliver, much to his embarrassment. He was fortunate that no one noticed the extra voice in all the confusion.
Rionin stepped down from the dais and strode toward the explosion. Rose had Lily by one arm and was calling for Hyacinth. Oliver could see her, caught in the melee in the middle of the dance floor. He tugged at Rose’s sleeve to get her attention.
“What is it?” She looked around, irritated.
“It’s Oliver,” he said, speaking normally so that he could be heard over the din. “I’ll get Hyacinth, you and Lily run for the boats.”