Chapter 3

“ T he Frost family was already registered and assigned rooms yesterday afternoon,” the head steward Octavius told me in a bored tone. “There must have been an error on the books; my assistant only wrote two entries instead of three.”

“I was delayed in coming and my sisters weren’t sure if I would make it or not. I hope it’s no trouble,” I told him with a dazzling smile, ensuring that my cloak covered my dress. Even if the red fabric hid the majority of Kodiak’s bloodstains, it still looked travel worn and dirty.

“We don’t have an additional suite for lodging, but there should be an extra bed in your family’s rooms.” He dipped his quill back into the inkpot and scribbled a note. I couldn’t help feeling that he had the look of a rat about him, with a small, pointed nose, ruddy cheeks, and small, beady eyes.

“No problem at all,” I lied smoothly, still holding my smile in place. “I’m simply glad to be here.”

Octavius stamped his seal next to my name and handed me a sheaf of parchment. “All of the instructions are enclosed. The first ball begins this evening in the largest ballroom. Follow the signposts at sundown. Meals are served in the banquet hall, though breakfast already finished, and you’re free to roam the grounds. There will be daytime activities in the various rooms; it’s all on the schedule in your packet. If you have any questions, feel free to reach out to myself or any of the other attendants.”

Clutching my papers, I retreated to an alcove to think. I needed to be presentable by evening for the first ball, but that meant finding clothing and a place to wash and style my hair. Valencia should have the dress I originally packed if she hadn’t already thrown it out, but I would rather burrow into the snow than ask my stepmother for help. I bit my lip. I barely knew Jack, and my pride wouldn’t allow me to ask him for anything else anyway.

Deciding that looking for the records room was more important than worrying about my wardrobe, I set out, striding purposefully down corridor after corridor, scanning each open room I passed for signs of scrolls and documents.

“I beg your pardon,” I said to a passing servant girl. “Do you know where I could find the records room?”

“I don’t know,” she answered, boosting her load of laundry in her thin arms. “It’s off limits and I’m not a scribe.”

The guard I asked reiterated that the records hall was off limits to anyone other than scribes and senior staff, but added warmly that I was welcome to explore the rest of the castle or participate in the activities the staff had planned for the women coming to meet the prince.

“There is even painting,” he told me proudly .

“Is there dress-making, by chance?” I asked. “I have an interest in that.”

His brow puckered as he thought. “I don’t think so. But there is some needlepoint.”

“I’ll look forward to it,” I lied again, then thanked him and continued to search.

There were rooms packed with women painting, sewing, learning new dances, or just sitting and conversing as they waited for the day to pass so the first ball could commence, all clearly too eager for the ball to sleep in. I had no such leisure time. My goal was to find a copy of the will, not socialize, but I did wish I’d thought to ask when exactly the next meal would be served.

In the subsequent hours I spent wandering through the castle, I felt like I managed to memorize a great deal of the layout, from the location of the courtyards all covered in a thick layer of snow to the guest rooms, which all had the same high-pitched chattering within as girls squealed together about the opportunity to vie for the prince’s hand. Their enthusiasm was palpable, and I found myself almost wishing that I could share in their energy with a sister or friend. My stepsister Vallia was tolerable sometimes, but any friendship or kindness she showed when we were alone together was inevitably eclipsed by her mother’s coldness and her sister’s cruelty. Remembering that one of those doors hid all three members of my stepfamily, I quickly turned my feet in the opposite direction and bit back a sigh of frustration.

The records for the entire kingdom had to be contained in a large room or set of rooms. Even if it was off-limits, was it truly that difficult to find? Besides, all I had to do was find a scribe to look for me if I wasn’t allowed in. Surely that wouldn’t break any rules. By the time the sun reached its peak in the sky, I had already passed the same guard I’d spoken to three times, who was looking increasingly suspicious as to why a woman would be wandering alone through the halls for such an extended period of time, and in a dress and cloak with a damp hem to boot.

As if my thoughts had summoned him into being, a man with the signature scribe’s cap perched on his head came into view, sitting on a bench near a window, sunlight streaming onto the sheaf of parchment he was poring over. Eager anticipation gave me a surge of energy that chased away my fatigue and hunger.

“Excuse me!” I approached him, politely waving and smiling broadly.

“Good morning,” he answered cautiously. “May I help you?”

“Yes, actually. My father recently passed away, and I think he sent a copy of his will to be stored in the records room. I was wondering if you or another scribe would be able to retrieve it. I’d very much appreciate it.”

“I’m afraid I can’t help you.” The scribe went back to his work. “All matters unrelated to the prince’s balls have been postponed until after he selects a bride unless it is a direct order from the king. You are, of course, welcome to petition to have it extracted from the records room after the conclusion of the balls. It’s only a week away.”

A week would be too late. “It shouldn’t take long, and I need it so I can renew my school’s license. Please?”

He gathered up his papers, clearly annoyed at my persistence. “My apologies, but the answer is no, and the records room is restricted to all but scribes and senior staff, all of whom are much too busy this week.”

He left, turning down another hall and leaving me in the corridor where sunlight filtered through the window to mock the despair that was creeping in. It seemed that getting a scribe to retrieve something would be more difficult than I thought, but I hadn’t come all this way to simply be told no . I refused to be a quitter. My students were counting on me.

After exploring all the levels above ground and ignoring the growling of my stomach, I ventured down the steps that led underground. It had to be here. There were far fewer people here, but the ones who were looked curiously at me, clearly wondering what a woman attending the balls was doing so far removed from the festivities above, but didn’t question me.

Would they report me? I could always feign ignorance or claim that I’d gotten lost. Lit torches burned in brackets as I hurried along a long corridor, my footsteps echoing and sounding unnaturally loud in the empty hallway. A long window to my left showed into a room, and I stopped dead when I saw what was beyond the glass.

This was it.

Rows upon rows of shelves held rolled-up scrolls, and desks had documents stacked in neat piles between corked inkwells, each with a quill laid beside it. I stared hungrily in, searching the tiny cubbies as if expecting to see a banner pointing me to where a copy of Cedric Frost’s will would be. He was one of the kingdom’s ten lords. It had to be important enough to be there.

A glance up and down the corridor confirmed that no one was approaching, so I cupped my hands around my eyes to stare in again. I couldn’t see any scribes, but they easily could have been behind some of the shelves that nearly stretched up to the ceiling. There had to be a way in. I paced along the length of the window and finally turned a corner to discover a door with a plaque that simply read Records, on it with smaller lettering under it that said Restricted .

With another uneasy look around to confirm my solitude, I quietly tried the handle and found it locked. I jiggled it a little harder, but whatever bolt was securing it in place held fast. For half an hour, I circled the area, trying to find another entrance, but the only other door I found was also locked with the same message.

Footsteps approached, and I left before the incoming person could find me, eager not to be seen lurking near a restricted area. Once I had returned to the ground level, the smells of lunch beckoned me and I followed my nose to the dining hall, satisfied that I had at least discovered where the records room was, even if it wasn’t open. It was just as well—my stomach’s insistent snarling would have given me away if I’d tried to snoop any longer.

Several other girls had meandered in to find a meal as well. Tiny, dainty sandwiches, roasted chestnuts and other such light finger foods were laid out on a long table with bowls of poinsettias and holly between the large silver platters of food. Even though the dining hall was warmed by cheery fireplaces set into every wall, I kept my cloak secured around my shoulders with my hood up, still self-conscious about my inability to freshen up. If I met the prince right now, he wouldn’t hesitate to send me away.

I was hungry enough I could have easily managed triple helpings, but my concern over my students occupied my mind so much that I stared at each morsel of food before biting into it. I could still see each of their crestfallen faces as the marshal had ordered them back to their homes. They were counting on me, and I only had six days until our ability to renew our license expired. To make matters worse, in order to renew it and maintain the school, I needed a substantial sum of money. If it did expire, that would mean months to a year of more paperwork, petitioning the courts, and even more money that I didn’t have. Why, why, why had Valencia picked the worst time to force the school to close?

A slim, red-headed girl looking even more forlorn than I did sat at the table opposite me and picked at the fruit on her plate without enthusiasm.

“Trista, is that you?”

The girl looked up, then hurriedly gathered her things and came to sit next to me. “Noelle, I didn’t expect to see you here.”

I pulled off my hood. “Nor I you. Aren’t you engaged to the blacksmith’s apprentice?”

“Yes—or I was,” she answered, her glum expression returning. “My parents insisted that I break it off to come here.”

My jaw dropped. “What did Cal say?”

She smiled. “He said to do my best to get sent home quickly so we could get engaged again.” After throwing a surreptitious glance over her shoulder she went on, “And I plan to. I shall pick my nose, belch, and scratch my bottom when I meet the prince tonight.”

I burst out laughing. “An excellent plan! It’s no wonder we’re friends.”

“I haven’t seen you at any ice skating events for ages,” Trista said, digging into her fruit with renewed enthusiasm. “What happened? Did you give it up?”

“For the most part, yes. I just don’t have the time anymore. I opened a school for mages two years ago, and my father passed away recently.”

She dropped her fork and clutched at my hand. “I’m so sorry, Noelle. I had no idea. ”

The ache that had gnawed at my heart since his death gave a particularly sharp stab. “Thank you. My stepmother kept it very private. I’m sure the king and queen themselves would have come otherwise. They knew Father well.”

“Is there anything I can do for you?”

“No, but…actually yes, there is.”

“Name it.”

“Can I stay in your room and borrow a dress for tonight?”

She nodded, casting a critical eye over the sorry state of my dress and cloak. “Of course, and I can get yours cleaned as well. Where are you staying right now?”

“Nowhere, actually. It’s a long story.”

I told Trista everything as she finished her meal. She was an excellent listener. She gasped at all the right places in my story of my stepfamily abandoning me, let out a sigh of relief when I regaled her with the tale of how Kodiak and I were rescued, then raised her eyebrows as I described Jack.

“A young man, you said?” she asked in amusement.

“Nothing can ever happen between us. He’s a mage,” I said, internally cringing as I thought of my brief bout of flirting that had caused Jack so much discomfort.

“Too bad. So now you can’t be with your stepfamily and you don’t have anything to wear?”

“Exactly.”

“Then come up to my room so you can choose. We’ll make sure you look beautiful for the prince since you can’t have the advisor. Who knows? Maybe if you charm him, Prince Stephen will give you the money you need.”

“I don’t want to marry the prince,” I told Trista as we left the banquet hall. “And I’m not going to exploit some poor man just for his wealth. Anyway, I only need to find my father’s will so I can get the school back up.”

“How do you know you wouldn’t want to marry him? Have you even met him yet?”

“No,” I admitted. “Father never brought me on his work trips, so I’ve never met anyone in the royal family.”

“Keep an open mind, then,” Trista said. “My room is in the next hall. My parents insisted on a whole new wardrobe for me since they’re hoping I’ll marry the prince. You can choose any of the dresses to borrow.”

She pulled a key out of her handbag and unlocked the door. “Mama, Papa, I’m back!” she called as she entered the room. “Do you remember my friend Noelle? We used to skate together all the time.”

“A pleasure to see you again, Noelle,” her mother said graciously, extending her hand, but Trista’s father frowned.

“First ice skating competitions and now the prince? You’ll beat her this time too, Trista.”

“Robert!” her mother scolded, shooting a cold look at her husband. “You’re welcome here, Noelle. Never mind him.”

“I just came to borrow a dress,” I said awkwardly.

“What’s wrong with your own wardrobe?” Trista’s father asked.

“It was lost on the journey over,” Trista lied for me. “I told her she could borrow one of mine for tonight.”

Her father continued to scowl but made no additional comments as Trista led me over to the closet. It was large enough for two men to stand in and packed with an array of gowns in a variety of colors. “This one would look good on you,” Trista said, pulling out a pale-pink gown. “And it would go better with your hair than it does with mine.”

I held it up in the mirror. “Thank you, Trista. I really appreciate it.”

After Trista and I got ready and Trista sent my dirty dress and cloak to be laundered, it was nearly time for the first ball to start. Trista’s father was still grouchy, and I was more than glad to leave him behind as Trista and I went down to the ballroom.

“So after you finish with your nose-picking and belching and are sent home, will you and Cal get married?”

“That’s the plan,” she said with a crafty smile. “But don’t tell Papa. He was happy enough about the engagement when we first announced because he knows how I feel about Cal, but the allure of his daughter marrying a prince was too tempting to pass up. What are you going to do when you see your stepmother tonight?”

I heaved a sigh. “I don’t know. If I confront her immediately and stir up trouble, I’m sure the prince won’t keep me around, and I need time to figure out the inheritance situation.”

“If you win the prince’s heart, I bet he would give you whatever you wanted,” Trista said slyly.

“I’m sure he would, but I won’t gamble my future on it.”

The ballroom was lit with hundreds of lamps, and the chandeliers overhead glittered as the candlelight winked through the crystal, casting the entire dance floor into a soft, sparkling glow. On the stage, the orchestra tuned their instruments, wafting gentle, melodious music over the girls already gathered there. It didn’t matter that the prince wasn’t due to arrive for another hour; it seemed as though none of the girls could wait any longer.

I looked around for my stepfamily but didn’t see them. They might be waiting to make a grand entrance. Vanessa was particularly fond of having every eye on her whenever she entered a room.

“I don’t see them,” Trista said, also looking around for my stepmother and stepsisters. “How long does it take them to get ready?”

I chuckled. “Hours, actually. My stepmother always spends ages primping in front of the mirror every day.”

“What did your father say?”

I shrugged. “He always said she was beautiful and could take as long as she wanted.”

“Men,” Trista said with a small snort. “Always willing to overlook bad behavior if a woman is attractive enough.” Then a stricken expression crossed her face. “I’m so sorry; I didn’t mean to speak ill of your father.”

“It’s fine. I was just glad she made him happy, even if she and I didn’t always get along.”

Trista nudged me and pointed at the door, where Vallia and Vanessa had just entered the room. They were stunningly beautiful, their gowns were in the latest fashion, and they had spared no effort in getting ready. From the tops of their heads to the bottoms of their pointy-toed shoes, they were perfectly put together. Every strand of hair was neatly in place and their cosmetics had been applied so that their faces were flawless.

“The prince will never look at me now, not compared to them,” I heard a girl lament from behind me.

“Of course he will!” Trista smiled at the girl with long, curly brown hair. “What’s your name?”

“Jasmine.”

“I’m Trista, and this is my friend Noelle. Those are her stepsisters who just came in.”

I waited for Valencia to follow my stepsisters, but she never appeared.

“Maybe she wants her girls to look independent without a parent hovering,” Trista noted, reading my mind as she stared at the entrance as well. “My father said so, which works well for me. Now I can be as unladylike as possible and Papa will never know.” She lowered her voice to Jasmine and told about her plan to sabotage her chances with the prince, which Jasmine found wildly funny.

“Uh-huh,” I answered distractedly, still tracking my stepsisters as they moved through the ballroom, gracefully greeting each person they met with smiles plastered onto their faces. At one point, Vanessa’s gaze drifted toward my side of the room, and my back stiffened, but she gave no indication she’d noticed me. No one would be able to tell that such beauty hid such a horrible personality, and if I accused her of anything here, I would only appear to be a jealous competitor.

“Do you want to talk to them?” Trista asked quietly.

“Not now,” I answered, watching as Vallia laughed at some joke one of the noblemen made. The nobleman looked highly pleased with himself.

For the remainder of the time before the ball officially started, I meandered through the large, crowded ballroom with Trista and Jasmine, actively avoiding my stepsisters. If Vanessa wasn’t there, I might have been willing to approach Vallia, but I didn’t trust her when her sister was nearby. My stepmother still never appeared, and I wondered if she truly wanted her daughters to simply not have their mother hovering nearby. It was possible, though I’d never known her to pass up an opportunity to rub shoulders with anyone wealthier or more important than herself.

As the orchestra shifted from tuning their instruments and playing warmup melodies to performing rehearsed numbers, the tension in the room became nearly tangible. Several young women quivered with excitement, and many already had beads of perspiration dotting their foreheads .

“Ah, Lady Noelle, you’re here. Good, good.” The steward, Octavius, was bustling around with a sheaf of papers, ticking marks next to names as he located each of the fifty assembled women. “And Lady Trista and Lady Jasmine, I have you marked here too. I trust you’re all settled in well?” His question must have been rhetorical, for he scampered away without waiting for any of us to answer. Even the way he moved reminded me of a rodent. His feet shuffled as he scurried rapidly across the floor, his wide midsection never once slowing him down. The herald picked that moment to give several blasts on his trumpet that immediately silenced everyone.

“Their Royal Majesties,” he boomed from the front of the room, “King Wenceslas, Queen Isolde, and their son, Prince Stephen.”

The crowd applauded as the royal family entered the room. King Wenceslas’s hair was peppered with grey, and though he wasn’t a particularly tall man, he had broad shoulders and an expansive chest that had clearly seen many hours training with the military. While Queen Isolde had many more wrinkles than her husband, it looked like they were due to a highly expressive face rather than to her age, and she beamed at each person, waving enthusiastically at many in the crowd. Prince Stephen looked exactly as I imagined a prince would look. He was tall, with his father’s broad shoulders, but he had none of his mother’s charisma. The expression on his face was serious to the point of being almost bored. I thought, given that he had just entered a ballroom packed with eligible young women all eager to marry him, that he would have shown at least a little enthusiasm. He was handsome enough, I supposed, but I much preferred Jack’s roguish looks to Stephen’s pristine and starched appearance .

The moment Stephen descended the stairs, he was immediately engulfed in a sea of pastel-colored dresses as girls all vied to be the one he danced with first. I didn’t think any of them heard or cared about the next several officials who were being introduced, but I did.

Many names and titles were read off, like the chancellor of the exchequer, treasurer, lord chamberlain, and master-at-arms. Following them was a long line of advisors, and I kept my eyes peeled until finally…

“Royal advisor Jack,” the herald announced simply as the next man walked through the door, giving no additional details. The lack of his last name drew my attention. What was his surname?

If it hadn’t been for the white hair and electric-blue eyes, I may not have recognized him. Long gone were the heavy snow boots, shabby brown furs and carelessly combed hair. He was dressed in a crisp suit and his hair was neatly parted. Every bit of dirt and dog hair had been scrubbed away so he was left looking like a true royal advisor. My heart beat faster just looking at him. Perhaps a starched appearance wasn’t the worst look in the world after all.

Jasmine gasped in shock. “He’s a mage,” she whispered. “I’ve never met one before.” Across the ballroom, I saw Vanessa give Vallia a pointed look then curl her lips into a flattering smile directed at Jack that unsettled me far more than the glares she always saved for me.

The ball began. Many of the men asked the attending girls to dance, and I spotted Jack at a distant table, making notes on official-looking forms and listening as other advisors came to whisper in his ear after dancing with each woman. One by one, Octavius would seek out the girls and lead them to be introduced to the royal family. Jasmine was one of the first and she gave us a nervous wave as she was led off.

Twice, I was asked to dance by different advisors, and I accepted each time. While I was more comfortable ice skating than dancing, the two shared enough overlap that I was able to perform to an acceptable standard. The advisors made polite inquiries about my family, interests, and hobbies, then when the dance ended, bowed over my hand and went to whisper to Jack. I caught his eye on one of those occasions and resisted the urge to wink. Jack didn’t betray the slightest hint of recognition when we made eye contact and lowered his gaze back to his papers. I couldn’t help but feel slightly let down. Even though I knew he had to maintain his image, I would have at least liked for him to acknowledge that we’d met before.

Trista waltzed by, intentionally treading on the feet of her partner, who had plastered a polite smile on his face, but occasional winces broke through his stoic expression.

“Lady Noelle, you’re next,” Octavius rasped. “Follow me and wait to be introduced.”

I trailed obediently after the steward as he led me up to the stage where the royal family stood in a receiving line. The queen, first in line, peered at me even before my name was announced. “You’re Lord Cedric Frost’s daughter, aren’t you?”

Taken aback that the queen knew my name, I stammered, “Y-yes, Your Majesty. How…?”

“Oh, I never forget a face,” she said with a cheery laugh. “And I can tell you, it has come in quite handy when I have to meet so many people. You look very like your father. I knew him well.”

“Thank you.”

“His Highness, Prince Stephen,” the herald announced, rather loudly considering his proximity.

I curtsied to the prince, who was the spitting image of his father, down to the jet-black hair, dark eyes, and heavyset eyebrows.

“Lady Noelle Frost,” the herald announced, reading off his long scroll. “Daughter of the late Lord Cedric Frost.”

Prince Stephen bowed with the same somber expression I’d noticed when he’d first entered the room. “I was sorry to hear of your father’s recent passing. He will be greatly missed. Please accept my deepest condolences.”

“Thank you, Your Highness. He always spoke highly of you.”

“I look forward to conversing again.” His tone was polite but slightly dismissive, gaze already shifting to the next girl in line.

Determined to stay in the competition until I had my father’s will in hand, I asked, “What are your interests, Your Highness?”

Stephen returned his gaze to me, and continued in a rehearsed way, “I enjoy badminton, dancing, and archery. And yourself?”

“Ice skating, teaching, and I have a particular fondness for dogs.”

The feeling that the prince was reciting a memorized list of interests disappeared as he nodded appreciatively. “You must meet my advisor, then.” Stephen turned and beckoned to Jack. “He trains dogs.”

Jack rose from the table where he’d been sitting and came over. A genuine smile stole over my features and I raised my hand as Jack stretched out his hand. “A pleasure to meet you, Jack. I hear you share my interest in dogs.” My stomach swooped when Jack pressed his lips to my knuckles instead of shaking my hand.

Stephen’s eyebrows furrowed. “I never told you his name. Have you two already met?” Jack’s previous indifferent attitude melted and his electric-blue eyes sparkled with mischief.

I blinked innocently. “He was introduced at the beginning of the evening.”

Stephen’s expression cleared. “Ah, yes. I’d quite forgotten. You must have an excellent memory just like my mother. It was a pleasure to meet you, Noelle. I look forward to spending more time with you in the future.” He also kissed my hand and lifted his gaze to the next woman in line.

After being briefly introduced to King Wenceslas, I walked with Jack back to his table. “You did it,” he whispered, shielding his notes from me. “You passed. Just don’t tell the others I told you. You aren’t supposed to know.”

“What is it exactly that I passed, Mr. This Isn’t a Competition ?” I whispered back.

“Ah-ah, I’m not allowed to tell you. That’s strictly against the rules. I’ll need all of tomorrow to go over the notes for all the women, but you can trust that you will be allowed to stay.”

“Sounds like a big job to process all those notes.” After glancing around to ensure that no one was near enough to overhear, I lowered my voice. “I found the records room today, but it was locked.”

“It always is.” He hesitated, then said in a rush, “I’ll be reviewing these notes tomorrow in the library, if…if you want to join me. That way we can schedule that ice skating lesson you owe me, and sometimes scribes work in the library. Since the records room is off-limits, you might be ab le to find something there instead. Books about how inheritances are passed, or…something.”

“That sounds wonderful. I’ll be there.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Trista, who intentionally stumbled and fell as she went to meet the royal family and picked at something in her teeth right before grasping hands with Prince Stephen, who politely bowed to her. After she left, Stephen discreetly wiped his hand on his handkerchief and tucked it back into his breast pocket.