It also meant the book had double protection. First, it was hidden from view by any but his ancestors. Second, if it was located, what was inside couldn’t be read, except by them. That level of security and secrecy indicated the contents were either valuable or personal.
She gently closed and replaced it and continued her search. She would return to it soon, but since nobody could see it, she felt it safe where it was. One square leg of the next table she searched was turned slightly, so the angles didn’t match. She propped the corner of the table on a stool that seemed placed there for that reason and twisted. The leg unscrewed. She removed it and found a single rolled scroll inside a hole drilled in the wood.
She carefully worked it free because it had expanded to fit the size of the hole, and over time had grown dry and refused to unroll. She carefully eased it open and read the title. It was a copy of the official Royal Line of Succession for the Kingdom of Wren, a modified document with her name inserted above that of Princess Elenore, and signed by the King.
This cannot be an accident. But how? Her father hadn’t known about her until he had gone to the Earl’s Castle, and he died a day later. So how had this document been created? And who placed it in the table leg? Not her mother or father. But nobody was supposed to have entered this room, and the scroll suggested someone had.
It must have been someone who supported her. A friend. But only the King had known of the apartment he’d agreed to keep sealed for her, but someone had violated that seal and done it soon after she departed. The slightly turned leg of the table was a clue left for her, not an accident.
Only one person came to mind. Evelyn, the sorceress who made her workshop in a hollow tree. The pieces fell into place. After her interview with the King, he must have searched for, and located Evelyn. He’d probably brought her here and escorted her into her father’s apartment to place the scroll where she would find it.
She looked at the table leg again and found the second recess. In it rested a small, carved raven dyed black, the same birds that had issued warnings to her sent by Evelyn. It was possible Evelyn lived and worked nearby, possibly in the palace.
Her hand shook, and when the door to the balcony opened, she started, almost dropping the table leg as she spun around. The leg had become a club.
“Sorry,” Brice said, slipping inside and peeking back through a slit to make sure he hadn’t been discovered.
He held three dresses over his forearm and a sack in his hand. When he was satisfied he’d returned safely, he held up his arm. “All blue.”
She rushed to him and examined the dresses one by one. All of them were acceptable, but the one on top was perfect for her needs if it fit. She held it against her and knew it would. “The bag?”
“Shoes and other things the dressmaker said you’d want.”
She peeked and sighed with contentment as she removed a jar of cleansing cream smelling of roses, and other items a young woman needed to wear with a gown. She said, “Help me wash my hair to get the powder out.”
“You already look like a woman again.”
“My appearance is critical for what I’m about to do.” She bent at the waist and let her hair hang where he could use the cream to clean it. Then she used more on her face to remove the grime and soot and asked Brice to remain in the workshop while she went to the bedroom and changed.
When done, she wished Maude had included a spell for her to dress and act a Queen. It was still well before noon, and while physically ready, she held back. Then she lifted her chin and walked slowly into the workshop.
Brice’s mouth dropped.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“You. Well, you look like a princess. No, you look like a queen. All you need is a crown.”
“Are you sure? Check everything.” She spun around.
“Perfect. Now, what’s our plan?”
She pointed to a sword hanging on the wall. “Remove that and put it on.”
The sword was old, the hilt showed signs of wear and the leather on the scabbard was faded and dry. He pulled it free. The blade sparkled as beautifully as the day it was last polished. He held it reverently in both hands.
“That is the sword of the High Knight of King Charles the Second, better known as Charles the Just. Over two hundred years old. It’s yours, now.”
“I can’t wear a treasure such as this.”
“As your future queen, I command you.”
“Is it enchanted?”
“Obviously. But it is rightfully yours, and you will accompany me. All should know your royal position, but that sword is not simply for show. Be prepared to use it.”
“What are we going to do?”
“Not we. Me. I am not going to slink into my palace like a thief in the night. I am going to draw attention and enter like a future queen should. I will hold my head high.”
“Hannah, you can do all that after you wear the crown.”
Instead of answering, she strode quickly to the door, threw the lock, and pulled it open to face a surprised and startled palace guard. He stepped back and half-drew his sword.
Before he could speak, she said in a calm voice, “You were ordered by King Willard to stand guard over my father’s rooms until his daughter, Princess Hannah, returns. Well, relax good man, for I am here.”
“Huh?”
“I am Princess Hannah. You will escort my Head Knight and me to the King’s chambers where I will wait for him to join me. We will be on that small balcony of his and would appreciate tea and a light snack. Now, please lead us there.”
The palace guard only hesitated a brief moment before snapping a salute and turning smartly. Hannah breathed a sigh of relief. That encounter had been her biggest worry. If the guard had refused or placed her under arrest for violating the apartment, things would have been different. She might have ordered Brice to draw his new sword. She had no doubts Brice could remove the guard’s weapons without hurting him badly.
She walked behind the guard, Brice behind her. The hallway, as before, was deserted, but as they reached the first intersection, the tapestries on the walls and the carpets became rich and elaborate. Paintings and statues worthy of masters told their stories.
But they encountered the first Royalty, two young women who pulled to a stop and looked at her, puzzled. One giggled.
Hannah paused, and the Guard halted when he realized she had. But Hannah’s eyes bored into those of the two women, neither of whom she’d ever seen. Her voice came forth as ice. “Curtsy.”
The girls exchanged almost amused glances, but neither moved.
Brice pulled his sword in a whirl of motion, cocking it over his shoulder where he could swing it to reach both of them. His tone was colder than Hannah’s, “Shall I take their heads, Princess?”
Both curtsied in unison. Brice muttered something about lacking Royal manners and ceremoniously replaced his sword.
Hannah saw no more humor in the women. But before Hannah would be out of their sight, they would rush off and spread the rumors. She wanted the entire palace to know of her return, and there was no faster way than to let the pompous, arrogant, self-important royal women of the palace control a juicy bit of rumor.
Hannah motioned for the guard to continue. But by the time the rumors flew, she would be in the King’s chambers. They passed a man and woman, each wearing expensive clothing. Jewelry glittered on their fingers and hung from chains around their necks. They must be very important.
Hannah met the woman’s eyes as they approached. She considered what to do, but to her surprise, the woman curtsied, and the man bowed deeply. She nodded as she passed them. How did they know?”