Heather Dixon

“I love you so much, my fingers hurt!”

“You forgot my birthday, too.""And mine."The girls looked miserable. The King opened his mouth, then shut it."Sir!" whined Lord Teddie. "You forgot my birthday, too!"Bramble gave a surprised laugh, then slapped her hand over her mouth, as though shocked at letting it out. The tension broke. The girls laughed sheepishly, and Lord Teddie beamed. He probably did not have many ladies think him funny. In fact, he probably got slapped by a lot of them.”

“He was shockingly easy to follow. The pressure of his hand, the step of his foot, the angle of his frame... it was like reading his mind. When he leaned right, they turned in perfect unison. He swept her across the gallery in a quick three, a dizzying pace. Gilded frames and glass cases and the window blurred in her vision, and Azalea spun out, her skirts pulling and poofing around her, before he caught her and brought her back into dance position. She could almost hear music playing, swelling inside of her.Mother had once told her about this perfect twining into one. She called it interweave, and said it was hard to do, for it took the perfect matching of the partners’ strengths to overshadow each other’s weaknesses, meshing into one glorious dance. Azalea felt the giddiness of being locked in not a pairing, but a dance. So starkly different than dancing with Keeper. Never that horrid feeling that she owed him something; no holding her breath, wishing for the dance to end. Now, spinning from Mr. Bradford’s hand, her eyes closed, spinning back and feeling him catch her, she felt the thrill of the dance, of being matched, flow through her.”Heavens, you’re good!” said Azalea, breathless.”You’re stupendous,” said Mr. Bradford, just as breathless. “It’s like dancing with a top!”

“Bramble's lips were tight. Her fists still shook."Take it back," she said. She gazed at the floor, but the words whipped. "We don't want the picture. We don't want your charity. Take it back!"Teddie drew himself up to his full, towering taffy height."N-dash it-O!" he said. "It's not charity and I won't take it back! It's a gift! A gift, dash it all! Because I liked your mum! And I like your sisters! And you, Bramble! I love you!"The words echoed. Everyone's hands clasped over their mouths, and they stared at Lord Teddie, who panted but kept a tight chin up. Bramble's lips were still pursed. They were white."Young man," said the King gently. "Your ship leaves soon?"Azalea guessed that, with the fiasco of everything, the King had annulled any arrangements between Bramble and Lord Teddie. Lord Teddie's entire taffylike form slumped. He turned to go, all bounciness dissolved."Do you mean it?"Lord Teddie turned quickly. Bramble's lips remained tight, but her gaze was up, blazing yellow."Gad, yes," said Lord Teddie. "I love you so much, my fingers hurt!""Oh!" Bramble slapped he hand over her mouth and doubled over. "Oh-oh-oh-oh!" She shook. It was hard to tell if she was crying, or coughing, or ill. "Oh!"In a billow of skirts, Bramble leaped. It was a grand jete worthy of the Delchastrian prima ballerina. She landed right on Lord Teddie, who had no choice but to catch her, and threw her arms around his neck. Then, to everyone's shock, she pressed her lips full on his."Oh...my," said Clover.No one seemed more surprised than Lord Teddie who stumbled back under Bramble's assault.”

“The simultaneous scream sounded from teh twins. Borth clasped their hands over their mouths, their eyes wide with horror. Azalea followed their gaze.There, in patches of light, scratched-up Fairweller held a weeping clover in his arms, cradling her head against his shoulder. He murmured into her ear.Delphinium screamed."Oh, Clover, how could you?" said Eve."Is he a good kisser?" said Hollyhock.The King had no words as he strode to them. In an instant he had torn Fairweller away from Clover, wound up, and boxed Fairweller straight in the face.Fairweller stumbled backward and fell to the floor, glass crunching beneath him."You may fill out your resignation paperwork tomorrow," said the King. "ExPrime Minister Fairweller!”

“From a memory deep inside her, so faint it only held sounds and slips of color, a tiny, three-year-old Azalea wailed, "Papa.""Papa," said Azalea to the lifeless form of the King. The word was so forgein, it choked her throat. "Papa... you can't leave us, Papa... It would be very...out of order-"Bramble knelt opposite her, grasping the King's bandaged hand."She's-she's right, Papa," Bramble stuttered. "We have...rules..."Clover fell to her knees and pressed her handkerchief to his chest. Blood soaked through. "Papa," she whispered.The girls knelt around the King, their skirts spead out like forlorn blossoms, swallowing , and whispering one word."Papa.""Papa.""Papa.”

“When I saw you at the graveyard, looking so white, I knew something was wrong. I knew it."Azalea stared at him, the fire flickering highlights in his eyes."So...I thought I should do something," he finished lamely."You saw everything?"Mr. Bradford gave a half of a crooked smile. "I did knock.""You didn't see Mr...Mr.-""Mr. Keeper?" Mr. Bradford spat the name. "Oh yes, I saw Mr. Keeper. Rather hard not to. I saw him try to kiss you. Or what he said was a kiss. I want to snap his head off!"Azalea had her hand over her mouth, shocked that someone as solemn and dignified as Mr. Bradford could have such venom. He took her hands, gently, and pushed up her sleeved, revealing her swollen wrists. His fringers traced the bruises."You stopped him," said Azalea. She bowed her head, shy. "You kept him from-from-""Ah, yes, my lady!" Mr. Bradford smiled a crooked smile in full. "His ponytail was simply begging to be yanked.”

“You once said you had studied at the university," said Eve shyly. "What did you stufy, please?"Azalea blushed. It was all right for the girls to interrogate normal gentlemen, but this was the one she wanted to keep."Ah," said Mr. Bradford, coloring as well. "Politics, actually. Some philosophy, and sciences. But...mostly politics, I'm afraid.”

“What happened?" said Clover, wetting a cloth in the basin, and dabbing Azalea's face."She had a sort of fit," said the King. "I think her underthings may be laced too tightly."All the girls, including Azalea, blushed brilliantly."Sir," said Eve. "You're not suppose to know about the U word!""Am I not? Forgive me.”

“What did your mother do?" he said."Sir?""When it was time for bed," said the King. "Tell me."The girls exchanged nervous glances. He was talking about Mother."She used to help the girls with their prayers," said Azalea, hesitant. "And-sometimes she would read stories."The King set the sword on the table, next to the vase."Very well," he said as the girls whispered to one another. "I will read you a story."The whispering stopped.”

“And," said the Keeper, his eyes cold. "You are never to refuse me another dance again.”

“Hush," he murmured. "There now. Hush." He traced his finger along her jaw. "That is a sweet thought," he whispered. "Except, my lady, I cannot die.”

“Keeper!" He inhaled slowly, took Azalea's outstretched hand-shudders went through her throat, he felt so solid-and pressed the brooch into her marked palm."I was only picking it up," he said, quietly. His thumb rubbed the red nail mark on her hand. A smile crossed his lips. "Temper, temper.”

“Try it alone now," he said. "I taught you when you were six. You were a fine little rider then. Do you remember?""No!" said Azalea."You remembered how to ride last winter," said the King quietly. He had his arms crossed. "You rode very well, one night last winter, if I remember."The horse beneath Azalea shifted, and she clutched to keep her balance."That was nearly a year ago," she stammered."Some things are burned into one's memory."The King helped her down gently onto solid ground, and didn't say another word.”

“The King smoothed the blanket on Thackeray's back. He opened his mouth, and shut it. Then he opened it again, and after a moment, said, "You used to call me Papa, do you remember that?"The question took Azalea back."No," she said.”

“He is writing a book," said the King, following them out into the sunny, crisp gardens. "About the gardens here. We have two of his books already. Library, north side, O. What say you, Miss Azalea? Does he pass that list of your sisters'?"Azalea cocked her head. Was the king actually teasing her?"He'll have to shave," she said, deciding to take his lead."And what," said the King, stroking his own close-trimmed beard, "is wrong with whiskers?"Azalea laughed, surprised at the King's uncharacteristic funning.”

“The King emerged from the library, paperwork in hand, eyebrows furrowed."Well, what is it, what is it?" he said crossly. "Can you not let me work for five minutes at a time?"The girls burst into angry cries. Kale let out another piercing shriek."Him-him-him-" said Delphinium, pointing a shaking finger at Mr. Hyette, who laughed still. "He-he-him!""He-he-he was spying on us!""And we weren't even wearing our boots!""Or even our stockings!"Thunpfwhap. The King threw Mr. Hyette up against the paneling. My Hyette's head slammed against the wainscot.Kale stopped midscream, hiccupped, and giggled."Mr. Hyeete!" said the King.Mr. Hyette struggled against the King's steel grip."Ow," he said. "I say, ow!"The King yanked Mr. Hyette from the wall and grabbed him by the scruff of his fluffy cravat. He handled Mr. Hyette out the entrance hall doors, slamming them behind him. Outside, gravel scuffled."I say," said Bramble, in an impeccable impersonation of Mr. Hyette. "I say, I say! I say-this Royal Business could actually be quite a lot of fun!”

“Five minutes later, the girls stood at the open kitchen door, blinking in the brilliant overcast light. The smell of lilacs, roses, sweet peas, and honeysuckle mixed with the scent of crisp late summer leaves. None of them had been in the gradens for nine months, and the bright saturated greens, reds, and violets overwhelmed them. It reminded Azalea of Mother, beautiful and bright, thick with scents and excitement. And the King-he was like the palace behind them, all straights and grays, stiff and symmetrical and orderly."It's really allowed?" said Flora, her eyes alight at the colors."Allowed allowed?" said Goldenrod."For the last time," said the King, pushing them gently out the kitchen door and onto the path. "It is Royal Business! Go On. Get some color in your cheeks.”

“You cannot dance up there," he said, quietly. "I can see you are in mourning. But you are welcome to dance here, among the magic. Please. Come and mend you broken hearts here. Come back, every night.”

“The teeth must have escaped while you murdered the rest of it," said Bramble, cough-laughing into her napkin. "Ha ha ha! You know, sometimes I think Clover is harboring some deep, dark shocking secret. Fire poker! Ba-hahahahaaa!”

“A muffled voice startled them both."When are you going to kiss her?"They pulled away. In the ballroom windows, noses and hands pressed against the glass, were the girls. They stood among the prickly rosebushes, beaming wicked little grins. Delphinium and Eve whispered and giggled to each other; Bramble wore a magnificent grin on her face and a spark of light in her yellow-green eyes.Another figure stood among them. This one had his arms folded across his chest, stiff and firm and formal......Yet he did not look displeased.”

“Mr. Bradford," she said. "I'm not going to propose to you."The twinkle in Mr. Bradford's eyes faded. So did his smile. He managed to keep it on his face. It looked painful."Oh," he said."Mr. Bradford?""Yes?""Would you mind it so very much if...you know...you proposed to me?"The light in Mr. Bradford's eyes jumped to life. He beamed so largely it almost wasn't crooked."If you want.”

“Ah, Azalea," said the King. "He's not going to be the one proposing."The springs in Azalea's feet went poioioing."Sorry?" she said."You outrank him, you know." The King shifted, uncomfortable. "It would be highly inappropriate for him to propose to you. The Delchastrian queen had to propose-""I will do no such thing!" said Azalea.”

“He's around the twist,' said Azalea. 'Breaking all the windows? He's mad.''Ah, no,' said the King. 'It's only madness if you actually do it. If you want to break all the windows in the house and drown yourself in a bucket but don't actually do it, well, that's love.”

“Down with tyranny!' Bramble cried. 'Aristocracy! Autocracy! Monocracy! Other ocracy things! You are outnumbered, sir! Surrender!”