A Clockwork Fairytale (30 page)

Dante waggled his eyebrows. “It must be an improvement on smelling like trash.”

“Anything is an improvement on trash.” Turk would be happy if he never smelled that stink again.

Dante leaned back against the wall and surveyed the marketplace and the Palace. “So how are we going to play this?”

“We go in separately. When the king has formally presented Melba and the nobles are free to speak with her, I want you to go to her. Vittorio will no doubt stick to her side like a limpet to a rock, but I imagine he won’t perceive you as a threat.”

“Don’t be too sure of that. My brother and I have had our differences.”

“Well, try not to upset him. I’ve arranged for a diversion just after six bells. My hope is that Vittorio will attend to the disturbance himself. As soon as he’s busy, Melba must tell her father she feels unwell and you should escort her out of the ballroom. Leave via the door behind the thrones and I’ll meet you in the hall. It’ll take a while to cleanse her of the poison, so I’m banking on her not being missed too soon.”

Three young ladies walked past and Dante tipped his hat to them. They giggled behind their hands as they walked on. “You’ll concentrate on what we’re doing, tonight, won’t you?” Turk asked.

Dante’s grin fell away and he sighed. “I find I’m rather enjoying being acceptable to the ladies again, but I’ll not let the princess down.”

“Right, we enter separately but stay within sight of each other.” Turk set off among the crowd of nobs making their way up the steep road to the Palace. They didn’t have far to walk, as a temporary wooden staircase had been erected providing access to the ballroom balcony. Turk glanced back and noticed Dante flirting with an attractive older woman.

The guards at the door were so busy checking nobs’ invitations they didn’t notice Turk slip inside. The ballroom was vast, the high roof supported by columns. White limestone walls gleamed in the light of thousands of flickering candles in two huge chandeliers, and green leafy garlands dotted with apples, lemons, and oranges adorned the room.

Many nobs were already milling around finding friends, and the room was full of chatter and laughter. Footmen wielding silver trays crowded with glasses handed out the traditional Great Earth Day drink of cider. Turk took up a position giving him both a view of the room and sight of the marketplace clock.

Dante and the older woman stopped beside a pillar and his eyes met Turk’s briefly over his companion’s head. Turk leaned a shoulder against the wall and waited for the king to make his grand entrance and introduce Melba. He heard both Melba and the Royal Victualler mentioned often in conversation as the nobles gossiped about what had happened in the marketplace only a few days earlier. Those who had missed the amusement were keen for a look at the unorthodox princess who had climbed on top of her sedan chair. Those who had attended the marketplace were hoping that Melba would do something even more scandalous tonight.

Turk fidgeted, his gaze fixed on the small door behind the thrones, impatient to see her again. He just wished it could have been under happier circumstances. The hands inched around the face of the marketplace clock. Turk started to worry that the king would be late and that the diversion he had arranged would take place before Melba arrived.

Then the drummers at the four corners of the room beat out a call to order. He straightened and his gaze clashed with Dante’s before returning to the end of the room. The door behind the thrones opened and the first thing Turk saw was Vittorio’s gleaming blond hair. His heart thumped and he rubbed his damp palms on his jacket. Something wasn’t right.

Vittorio stepped up on the dais dressed in an extravagant Earth King costume of bronze-toned fabric, glinting with gold and green jewels. Melba mounted the steps and stood at his side with her face averted, and Turk couldn’t see her properly. Without planning to move, Turk found his feet carrying him through the crowd, drawn toward Melba like a butterfly to a flower. Layer upon layer of shining multicolored fabric formed her dress, the extravagant garment bedecked with tiny jeweled leaves and apples while a headdress of jeweled fruit topped her golden curls.

Then she looked up. Turk’s step faltered with shock. She was beautified, with her hair glossed gold and gliss on her cheeks and around her eyes. But beneath the makeup, her skin had an unnatural gray cast and her usually sparkling eyes were dull and lifeless.

She sank down onto the smaller throne and Turk could no longer see her over the crowd. Where was the king? Other people looked at each other and whispered the same question. Vittorio stepped in front of the king’s throne and raised his hands for silence. “My noble friends, His Royal Highness wanted to be with you tonight to present his beloved daughter to the Court. Unfortunately he is indisposed and requested that I perform this joyous duty in his stead.” He turned and held out a hand. Melba rose and stepped forward. “I give you Her Royal Highness, Princess Melbaline.”

Applause broke out and rippled around the room, but the clapping was tentative and the nobles glanced uncomfortably at each other. Vittorio handed Melba back to her throne, then raised his hands for silence again. He gave a smug smile that whispered unease through the crowd and sent a chill through Turk. “I have more news that His Royal Highness King Santo had planned to announce tonight.” Vittorio paused, his gaze sweeping the crowd, letting the tension build. “I am delighted to inform you that Princess Melbaline has graciously agreed to become my wife. His Royal Highness wishes the wedding to take place at the earliest opportunity.”

Turk rocked back on his heels as if he’d been struck. “No,” he whispered.

There was a moment of stunned silence, followed by a smattering of polite applause that grew louder until nearly everyone clapped obediently. Turk’s heart thundered, disbelief, pain, and anger churning inside him. Melba stared at Vittorio with a look of stunned disbelief on her face. It was obvious she had not agreed to this betrothal. A hand gripped Turk’s arm and he looked around to find Dante at his side. “Great Earth Jinn,” Dante said under his breath. “I had no idea he planned this. Melba looks much sicker than she did two days ago.”

“If she deteriorates this fast she will not last long,” Turk whispered. “You told me he didn’t want to kill her.”

Dante expelled a noisy breath, his gaze fixed on Vittorio, who stepped forward to accept congratulations from the senior nobles. “I don’t know what he’s capable of anymore.”

Chapter Twenty-two

Anchor your ship well or it will not be there in the morning
.

—Bluejackets’ saying

Melba thanked the Great Earth Jinn that she was sitting, otherwise her legs might have given way with shock at Vittorio’s announcement. He must have tricked her father into agreeing to them marrying. Master Maddox said old folks went a bit doolally and were confused, so you could steal from them easily. Vittorio was about to steal the throne and her pa was too sick to stop him, but she would not marry Vittorio even if her life depended on it.

“Come on, Melba, time to meet the nobility and accept their congratulations.” Vittorio gripped her elbow and pulled her to her feet. “Smile, my betrothed.” She wanted to slap his stupid, smug face and announce that she refused to marry him. But putting him on the defensive would make him more dangerous. She desperately needed Turk’s help and advice.

Her head throbbed and her legs ached after walking down all the steps from her suite. She scanned the sea of faces before her. “Please, Great Earth Jinn,” she whispered, “please make Turk be here.” But even if he was present, he wouldn’t be able to show himself openly. She needed to get away from Vittorio so Turk would come to her. All she could do was be patient and wait for an opportunity. She stood on the front of the dais and greeted lavishly dressed men and women who were instantly forgettable, all the while keeping one eye on the crowd.

The sight of Dante pushing through the throng of people gave her a burst of encouragement. His hair was shorter than before and he was clean and smart, but she recognized his unmistakable grin. “Well, well, you look a treat, ma’am,” he said, hopping onto the dais at her side.

“Oh, Dante, I’m so glad you’re here.” She almost fell against him with relief, but he caught her elbows and held her steady so she didn’t disgrace herself in front of the assembled nobs.

Vittorio grabbed her upper arm and pulled her back toward him. “Get off the dais, Dante,” he hissed under his breath. His fingers pinched her arm and she winced, more with frustration at her own helplessness than at the pain.

“Let me go,” she snapped

“The eyes of Malverne Isle are on you, Vitto,” Dante said with a nod toward the crowd.

With an angry huff, Vittorio released her. He stepped up to Dante and turned his head away from the curious onlookers to speak. “Just remember she is
my
betrothed.”

“That means she will become
my
sister. I’ve always wanted a sister,” Dante said, grinning at the people closest.

Vittorio grunted, then straightened his flamboyant jacket and turned to greet more nobles. “This is Lord and Lady Martino,” Vittorio said to her. She smiled, vaguely recognizing the old man with gray mutton-chop whiskers who must be one of her father’s advisors.

Once Vittorio was engaged in conversation, she turned back to Dante and leaned close to whisper to him. “Is
he
here?”

Dante nodded almost imperceptibly. Melba once again scanned the edges of the crowd, her headache forgotten at the promise of seeing Turk. “Where?”

Dante took a pocket watch from his vest and flipped open the cover. “Wait five minutes.”

She had no idea what was due to happen in five minutes but she waited expectantly, doing her best to be polite to the nobles who passed before her.

When the clock in Sugar Street Market started to chime six bells, Dante took her arm. Melba held her breath, and stared around the ballroom looking for Turk, wondering what he had planned. As the last of the chimes faded, a tune rang out from the sacred tubular bells in the marketplace shrine. A few heads turned curiously; then the chatter quieted and people started drifting toward the balcony to see what was happening outside.

Beside her Dante chuckled and she giggled when she recognized the tune. It was not a sacred mantra to the Great Earth Jinn as she had expected but a bawdy song from the outer circles.

“Great Earth Jinn!” Vittorio exclaimed. “How dare someone desecrate the shrine, and today of all days?” He glanced at Melba, then past her to Dante. “Make yourself useful and stay with her until I return.”

Vittorio jumped off the dais and pushed through the people who were wandering toward the balcony. Dante’s hand tightened on her arm and he eased her backward. “Your Master Turk is very clever,” he whispered as they retreated. “I had thought nothing short of an armed invasion would prize Vittorio away from your side tonight.”

While all heads were turned toward the balcony, Dante jumped off the back of the dais and handed her down the three steps. Her heart thumped with a mixture of fear and excitement as they slipped through the door into the hallway behind the ballroom.

Joy and relief swirled through her, bringing tears to her eyes when she saw Turk waiting in the shadow of a doorway. He looked so handsome, even dressed as a Royal Guard. His dark hair gleamed in the lights as if each strand had been polished. She ran to him and threw herself into his open arms. Pressing her face against his chest, she breathed the wonderful lemon-spice smell of him and hugged him tightly. His arms encircled her, his hands warm and gentle cradling her back. “How do you feel, Melba?”

“Rotten. Madam Borrelli says Vittorio is poisoning me.”

“My poor little Star. I’m so sorry.” He cupped a hand around the back of her head and kissed her hair. “I’ll take you somewhere to make you better.”

Dante cleared his throat and grinned when she glanced around. “I’ll return to the celebration. When Vitto comes back I’ll tell him you’ve retired, feeling unwell.”

“Be very careful what you say,” Turk said over her head. “We don’t want Vittorio to become suspicious.”

“Where shall I find you?” Dante asked Turk.

“When you finish here, come to the monastery chapel to discuss our next step. I’ll have someone looking out for you.”

“Thanks, Dante.” Melba touched his arm. “Will I see you again?”

“Indubitably.” Dante grinned, then slipped back through the door into the ballroom.

“We must fetch you a cloak to hide your identity when we leave the Palace.” Turk took her hand and headed for the staircase that led up to the higher floors.

The poison had left her so weary she could hardly put one foot in front of the other. “I ain’t got the energy to go back up.”

“I’ll carry you then.” Turk swept her up in his arms. She put an arm around his neck and snuggled her face against his shoulder. Most of her life she had looked out for herself and accepted that that was the way of things. She had never realized how good it would feel to have a man to look out for her.

***

Turk ran up the stairs with Melba cradled in his arms, fear for her a cold knot of dread in his belly. He had sensed the Foul Jinn contamination the moment he touched her and it was far worse than he had expected. The rapid contamination meant she must be wearing something infected with a Foul Jinn. He concentrated on guarding himself against absorbing any of the poison. Gül, his Silver Serpent, squirmed inside the medallion, desperate to fight the Foul Jinn threatening to infect him.