“When the High King was killed - first poisoned, several times, then shot with pistols, then his head cut off, then burned in the great palace fire ... no one really liked to talk about it ...”
“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.”
“His steward his here,too.""Oh,look, the King's gone out to greet him.""With a gun," said Bramble.Everyone leaned forward."Pistols!" cried Clover. She fled the room."Clover-duels aren't-oh,hang," said Bramble. "She's going to do something rash. Well, at least we can see it from here."Two seconds later, Clover streaked out the entrance hall doors, down the marble stairs, her skirts flying behind her.The gentlemen had a split moment to look up before Clover threw herself onto the King in a scatter of gravel, sobbing as she hung about his neck.The window muffled their voices. Everyone leaned even farther forward.Clover fell to her knees and kissed the hem of the King's coat."Oh,now,let's not go overboard," Bramble muttered.Fairweller removed his coat and set it over Clover's shoulders; the King threw it off and put his own coat over her shoulders.”
“We can go without dancing and things a little longer.""Especially since our Great Slipper Scandal quickened the undead and nearly destroyed the palace," said Bramble. "It put us off dancing for at least an hour.”
“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.”
“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.”
“I will tell you about the lady I loved."The girls settled together on the entrance steps, not even breathing, for fear it would rustle the rosebushes about them and mask Mr. Keeper's words. Mr. Keeper stood unmoving on the dance floor."Once upon a time," he said. His voice dripped in silk strands. "There was a High King, who wanted more than anything to kill the Captain General who incited a rebellion against him. It consumed him. The desire to kill the Captain General filled him to his core, and he spent every breath, every step, thinking of ways to murder the Captain General."But he was old, and time passed, as it always does."Mr. Keeper paused. Bramble cast a slightly bemused glance at Azalea, her eyebrow arched."So," Mr. Keeper continued, "he took an oath. He filled a wine flute to the brim with blood. And he swore, on that blood, to kill the Wentworth General, and that he would not die until he did."And then, he drank it."The end."There was a very ugly, naked silence after that. The girls' mouths gaped in perfect Os."Sorry?" said Delphinium. "I missed the part about the lady?""Ah," said Mr. Keeper. "The blood. It was hers.”