I was entranced. I could have played with the kitten all night. It was a gift to equal the precious things Rune had given me. As I sat on the floor watching the little one run about, I asked the girl, “What is your name? And why would you bring this for me?”
“My name is Laerke,” she said. “I thought you might be lonely, Lady Hulde.”
It did not seem to matter that she was breaking more rules every time she spoke. This was different. She was the girl from the mirror, and ordinary rules did not apply. Laerke. What a wonderful name. I wished I was named after a bird.
“The gift is given freely,” she said. “But I do have a favour to ask.”
I waited.
“I understand you are soon to be married,” Laerke said, glancing at the bridal gown on the wall.
“In three days.”
“I need to… I want to… This is difficult, Lady Hulde. I don’t know how to say it.” She looked at me as a friend might, eyes wide, mouth half-smiling.
“Tell me,” I said.
“I cannot explain why, but… the man you are to marry… he is a friend, familiar to me, and… and I need to speak with him alone. At night. That sounds odd, I know. But I hope very much you will grant my request. To… to spend the night in his chamber…”
“If my mother knew you had asked such a thing, she would have you killed. She would kill you herself.”
“Yes, I… I have heard that the Queen of the Mountain is somewhat fierce. Hulde—may I call you that?—if I promise you that he and I will do nothing more than talk… If I promise that I will not touch him… Please?”
Nobody had ever spoken to me so sweetly. Apart from Rune, and Rune was gone.
“My mother gets very angry,” I said. “Angrier than you could imagine. If she found out, we would all be punished. You, me, the guards, everyone. Her punishments are… rather harsh.”
“Then she must not find out.” Laerke’s eyes were ablaze with courage; it was an invitation to be as brave as she was. “Help me, Hulde. Please.”
She was sweeping the story forwards, and I could not resist her. “Very well,” I said. “I’ll do my best.”
I did not tell her about the mirror. I did not tell her I knew—suspected—that she and my bridegroom were married. Should my mother learn that, she would see a simple solution. If Laerke met with a fatal accident, the prince would be free to marry again.
I told Laerke that the prince was locked away on his own, because of the need not to be seen by me before the wedding. I told her where she would find him, and how she could get into the walled garden. I was too big to fit through the gap in the wall, but Laerke was slender; she could do it. I explained where the storeroom key was hidden. I took her to my window and showed her where the garden was.
“You could go now,” I said. “It’s getting dark, but not too dark to see the way. There will be guards at the gate. In the morning, make sure you come out before it’s light or they’ll see you. I’m not sure you know what a great risk you’re taking. If you’re caught, I won’t be able to help.”
“I do know,” she said. “Thank you, Hulde. I had heard that you were a kind person, and I see it is true.”
Who could possibly have told her that? “Good luck. You’d best go. Come back in the morning and tell me what happened.”
That night, I did not see Laerke in the mirror. I did not see the Prince of the Far Isles. But I did see a white bear running through a forest, his pelt catching the moonlight. “Rune,” I breathed, wondering if he was on his way to the mountain of glass; hoping beyond hope that he would be here before the wedding and that everything would be made right. I knew it was foolish. What could he do? But I wept, and hoped, and held my black kitten close to my breast.
Laerke was back in the morning, after my maids had cleared away my breakfast tray. She had her red hair tied up in a kerchief, and was carrying a bucket and mop.
“Come in,” I whispered, glancing up and down the hallway. I bundled her into my chamber and bolted the door. “What happened?” I saw, then, that her eyes were red.
“I couldn’t wake him. I tried and tried. All night. I think he’d been given a sleeping draught. But who would do that?”
Why was she looking at me that way? Could she be thinking I had drugged my bridegroom? My heart clenched tight; I had thought we were friends. “My mother has a store of such potions,” I said. “She might have ordered it done. I don’t know why.” I could not stop myself from adding, “I couldn’t have done it, Laerke. There wasn’t time. Besides, why would I help you see him, then prevent you from talking to him? That doesn’t make sense.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, with a sweet smile. “I’m worried, that’s all. Could we try again tonight?”
“I’ll think about it.” Only two days until the wedding. If Rune was on the way here, it might be better to wait until he arrived before taking such a risk. Maybe Laerke would uncover the truth, whatever it was. Maybe she would cause a disaster with her meddling. “Hadn’t you better go and do your cleaning, so nobody gets suspicious?”
When she came back later, she had her little bag with her. I was on the floor playing with my kitten, but when she took out a snow-white puppy and made him run and jump and let out little wuffing sounds, I could not wait to play with him.
“Oh, how precious! What wonderful things you have!”
“For you, if you would like it. It’s a gift, yours even if you say no to my request. We are friends, aren’t we?” She put her hand on my shoulder. It was an offence that would have earned her a whipping if Mother had seen, but it filled me with warmth.
“We’re friends,” I said. “Try again tonight if you wish.”
“Could you… is there a way to find out about the sleeping draught? Perhaps to be sure he does not take it?”
“Without alerting my mother? Almost impossible. I’ve already been down to the guard room once, asking questions about who was in that chamber. I don’t see how I can do it.”
She turned her eyes on me; laid both hands on mine. It was like a picture in a book of tales: Faithful Laerke pleads with the Queen’s Daughter. “Please, Hulde.”
“Why is it so important that you speak to him?” I made myself ask, though I was not sure I wanted an answer.
“I cannot tell you. I promised. If I tell, I will bring down a curse.”
A curse! This really was like a tale of wonder and magic. And I was part of it. I must not be the part that prevented the happy ending. “I will try to find out about the sleeping draught,” I said. “But I can’t promise anything. This is very dangerous, Laerke. I don’t think you can understand how dangerous.”
I meant to do as I’d promised. I meant to go down to the cellars and find out if anyone was drugging the prince’s wine. But my mother called me to her quarters and made me spend all day there learning a dance she said everyone would be performing at the wedding, a swaying, turning, tripping thing that made me dizzy. When I said I felt unwell, she made me lie down on her bed to rest. When I said I was hungry, she had her servants bring a tray of delicacies. By the time I escaped, it was dark outside and Laerke was nowhere to be seen.
I was tired and sad. I felt defeated. I had tried to be a hero, like Laerke, but I was no hero. I was clumsy and stupid. I had thought there might be friends for me. But Rune was gone, and Laerke would go, and I would be all alone again. Except for a prince who, I suspected, did not really want to marry me. And my mother.