The Winter Queen Read online

  “Robbie,” I whispered into the cold air, relishing the sound of his name on my lips. I looked critically in the mirror, and told myself that I looked like a cross between a pirate and a dodgy eighties rock chic. I smiled, saying his name again, “Robbie,” just to see what his name sounded like when I spoke it out aloud.

  “Yes?” his voice came from behind me, causing me to offer a little squeal. “Sorry, the door was open and I heard you talking to yourself.

  “Oh,” I blushed. “I was just…” I waved at the mirror as if that would give some kind of logical answer.

  “I’m glad to see you’re up and about. Doctor Yaratias said that he had manged to patch you up pretty good.

  “More than good. I feel better than I ever have.”

  “Good – then if you’re of a mind to, I could really do with some help with preparations for tonight. It was always tradition that my mother and father set up the room as a kind of gesture of goodwill to the staff who normally waited on them hand and foot.”

  “Sure,” I said, already half way out of the door. I was excited to see what the rest of the house looked like, and to discover more about this beautiful but sad world I had created in my imagination.

  Once outside my room, I began to truly understand the scale of the house. The corridors stretched to almost the horizon in each direction. Door after door – all closed. The room I had been staying in was near to the top of the grand staircase, which led down to a hallway bigger than the floorplan of my home. A cow was tethered to the newel post and was chewing on a rather sad looking bundle of dried grass. It’s bones almost jutted through its skin. A young woman was sat on a stool, desperately trying to milk the beast, but with such starvation, the milk yield was barely a trickle.

  Lord Rime skipped down the stairs and looked thoughtfully into the bucket. “Is that all she has, Lydia?”

  “I’m afraid so, my lord.”

  Lord Rime patted the cow on the head and said sadly, “Then I guess at least we’ll feast on a good beef dinner this evening.”

  Tears sprang to Lydia’s eyes. “It doesn’t seem right, my lord, not when she’s done us so much good.”

  Lord Rime placed his hand on Lydia’s shoulder, and then took her in his arms when the poor girl began to sob uncontrollably. “Ssh, Lydie, ssh – I know it’s horrid, and I know it’s all so unfair, but this way, she’s doing one final act of good for us, and we are grateful, so grateful. Lydia, please – don’t cry.”

  An older woman with a thick set waist and wrinkles etched into her sagging face came scurrying over and took Lydia firmly out of Lord Rime’s arms. “Lydia, goodness, girl. Come on,” she said, escorting Lydia away from the hall. “Whatever has gotten into you?”

  “I’ll call for Jack,” the older woman said. “Tell him to get a move on if we’re to get the meat tender for tonight.”

  I watched all of this with the urge to start screaming. If this was all the product of my imagination then surely I could force a change, I could do something, think something that would change the whole narrative. Seeing me transfixed at the top of the stairs, Lord Rime looked at me and smiled despite the pain I could feel radiating from him.

  “Come on May, there’s so much to do.”

  I headed down the stairs and followed him through the chaos of what had once been a grand house but was now more of a refugee camp for animals, children and other folk who all seemed to be busy doing nothing. And all the time we walked through the house, I felt the tight knot of guilt that I had called him selfish. He had been looking after all these people, trying to do his best and I had just swanned in like some know it all brat and judged him.

  “I’m sorry,” I said when we were finally in the ballroom and alone.

  “What for?” he asked, passing me a cardboard box full of sad looking decorations.

  “For earlier, when I called you selfish – for thinking you didn’t care.”

  He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it May. You weren’t to know. None of this is your problem. You’re just a traveller passing through. You have a home to return to, one where such sorrows are not your concern. Can you pass me the garlands, please?” he said, taking a step onto the dangerously high stepladders.

  I fished around in the box and started to pull out the faded paper garland of snowflakes and passing the end to him as he started his ascent.

  “Doesn’t it seem a little strange to be celebrating winter when…”

  “We used to celebrate all our seasons. Yule was always one of my favourite times of year until my parents died and – until this,” he said, reaching up and attaching the hoop of the garland around the hook that was already in the coving.

  I followed him around, handing him various decorations on instruction and gathering other boxes from the pile in the corner. I tried to imagine what it must have once been like.

  “Besides, there is another reason to do all of this. The king is coming to see me.”

  I faltered. “The king is coming here? Why?”

  “When my parents were alive, they were great friends of the King and the Queen. They always came to the Yule ball, it was a chance for him to forget that he was king for a night – here, they could be just normal people. He could leave his crown at home and all the responsibilities that went with it. When Queen Anabelle died, he stopped coming, and then my parents died. But I guess, what with it being the last time we might actually see Yule, the old man is thinking he would rather spend it here, where he was happiest than up at the castle where every window looks down on his hungry and dying people.

  “We’re going to empty the cellar and party like it’s the end of the world,” he said stepping down the ladder towards me to gather the last of the glass baubles. When his hand touched it, I should have released my grip and let him finish his task, but I didn’t. The air thickened around us and all at once, I found it difficult to breathe. He looked deep into my eyes and I could read in them, both desire and sorrow. It was an intoxicating mix and before I knew what was happening, I was drowning in his kiss, his mouth over mine and his tongue deep in my mouth as if mining for a truth, for a future that might never come. The world lost its substance and I no longer felt weighted to the ground. As much as I didn’t want our kiss to end, I needed air, otherwise I was in danger of slipping into a faint.

  Breaking away, I felt the smile on his lips. “Wow,” he said, touching my forehead with mine. “To find you, now.”

  “Thank you, Lord Rime,” I whispered.

  “Robbie, my name is Robbie. And why you thanking me?”

  “For taking care of me, for kissing me,” I replied, feeling slightly foolish.

  He laughed, cupping my face in his hand. “I think it’s me who should be thanking you.”

  A cough came from the door, alerting us to the arrival of Millie who was doing her best to hide her blushes.

  “I’m sorry, my lord, but I’ve been sent to tell you that there’s a messenger arrived. He’s been shown to the library.”

  “Thank you, Millie.”

  When Millie had gone, Robbie reached out for my hand and leaning forward, pecked me lightly on the cheek. “I’m sorry. I had better go and see what he wants. I shan’t be too long. Feel free to explore and I’ll come and find you.”

  With Robbie gone, I turned my attention to one of the several ten-foot pine trees that were dotted around the room. A cardboard box of ornaments sat at the foot of each one and it was going to take a good couple of hours to get them all ready.

  I began decorating the tree closest to me, pleased to find, that without the sentimental attachment of our own decorations, it was as pleasurable activity as it always had been. It was strange to think how many times the decorations had been used, and whose eyes had looked at them in wonder over the years. I wondered what Robbie’s parents had been like. Which one of them he looked most like.

  Whatever reason the messenger had come for, it took up more time than Robbie had hoped, and by the time he returned, I had co
mpleted the decorating of three of the six trees.

  “I’m sorry to have taken so long,” he said, striding across the wooden floor of the ballroom.

  “Is everything alright?” I asked, seeing the serious look on his face.

  “Yes,” he said shortly. “Everything will be fine. Thank you for making a start on the trees. They look perfect.”

  I smiled, slightly disappointed that whatever news he had received had soured his mood and certainly burst the earlier bubble we had been caught up in. I had spent the last hour or so replaying that kiss in my mind, and had visions of him returning to sweep me up in his arms and repeat it.

  “The cooks are doing a good job and everything is on schedule. The guests will begin arriving at about two hours after sunset and then the King will arrive an hour later. Dinner will be served about half an hour after that. It gives us plenty of time to get everything else done, although I will have to attend to some business for an hour or two later this afternoon.”

  Impulsively, I threw out my hand and placed it over his as he went to place one of the exquisitely blown, gold painted baubles onto the tree. He flashed me an apologetic smile and I snatched my hand back, realising I had made a mistake.

  “About what happened earlier, May, I’m sorry – I shouldn’t have let that happen. I was caught up in the moment.”

  The heat of humiliation began to surge up my body and I just hoped that he couldn’t see the blush on my cheeks or the tears that were pricking the corners of my eye. Seeing my distress, he stopped and stroked my cheek. “It was a magical moment, May. One that I can’t thank you enough for. In another time, in another place, things would be different – but things here are…” he paused to swallow down his emerging emotion. “May, we’re already half way into the grave and there are things that are going to happen that are going to be difficult to accept.”

  Before I could respond, he had bent down and was busily sorting through the collection of decorations. “Actually, would you mind finishing the trees for me. There’s something I need to go and check on in the kitchens.”

  “Of course. No worries,” I said, sadly. He was right, of course. All of this was a nightmare not a dream. What was I thinking that somehow love could take a hold in a place barren and dying? I refused to watch him as he left the ballroom, although every piece of my heart begged me to turn and look at him. Our time had already ended, besides, I would be leaving soon.

  “Why not now?” I muttered under my breath, startling myself. The questioned stymied me. I’d been here for hours and I hadn’t even thought to leave. Why? I put the bauble down back in its box and headed to the window. The snow was lightly falling, adding another layer of certain doom. I shuddered. It no longer looked beautiful, just bleak. “Where would you go?” I asked myself. I had no idea where I was and so where would I start? I could walk for days aimlessly.

  “You need to be careful, May,” someone said from behind me. I jumped out of my skin. Even though I had been lost in thoughts, it was almost impossible not to make a sound as you walked across the wooden floor. Turning, I saw a small man who was only a little taller than my waist.

  “I’m sorry, do I know you?” I asked, unnerved by the familiarity in his voice.

  “No, but I know you,” he said tugging on his beard and looking at me with beady eyes like French jet, which sparkled in the light. “And I need to warn you that you are in terrible danger.”

  My chest tightened at his sombre look and I let out a nervous laugh.

  “Who are you?”

  “That ne’ry matters, May, and it’s best you don’t know my name. All you need to know is that you’re not safe here. You need to leave.”

  “And go where? Do you know how I can get home?” I asked with desperate hope rising in my voice.

  He flashed me a look as if to say I was clearly an idiot. “Why, the same way you came.”

  “But I don’t know how I got to be here. One minute I was in the woods, and the next… I was being eaten by some terrible monster, the world went black and I found myself here.”

  “You need to think carefully, May. You found a doorway to this world, and if you found it once, then somewhere deep inside of you knows where to find it again.”

  I cast my mind back to my walk in the woods with Tom. There had been nothing unusual, except for the fact it had been snowing, and Tom had been messing about. We had been near the Widows, and I had left the path to find him, turning in each direction…

  “That’s it!” I exclaimed. I rushed forward and awkwardly hugged the man, who almost toppled under me. I let him go, and laughed, “Thank you. Thank you. I think I know how to get back home,” I called as I headed towards the door. I needed something warm and to recover my boots, which I had left upstairs, then I would go.

  “Don’t stop to say goodbye,” the little man called after me. He was still calling out to me as I dashed down the corridor, but his words faded. What did it matter? He had told me everything I needed to know. I was going home, and I’d be back in time for Christmas Eve.

  CHAPTER 6 HOME

  I threw open the door of the bedroom and gathered my boots, jumping down onto the bed to lace them up. My velvet jacket was pretty much a right off, but it still had arms and offered me some kind of extra layer. The fur throw on the end of the bed would make a reasonable makeshift cloak and would at least offer me some decent protection from the cold. My leather gloves were still in my pocket and I thanked small acts of fate that I had removed them to take a photo minutes before things went a little crazy. Grabbing my camera, I headed out the door, down the stairs and towards the front door, relieved that everybody was far too busy elsewhere in the manor house to stop me.

  The strange little man’s warning echoed round my mind. “Don’t stop to say goodbye.” But as my hand reached for the handle, something in my heart felt compelled to stop. “Robbie?” I said to myself. It didn’t seem right after everything he had done for me to just leave without explanation; not after the kiss we had shared.

  “Are you leaving?” Robbie’s voice caused me to turn from the door and disengage my hand from the handle.

  “Yes. I think I know how to get home.”

  Robbie strode towards me, his face crumpling with various emotions. “You’re not staying for the ball?”

  My stomach began to flutter. I was doing nothing wrong and yet I felt like a caught thief.

  “I… I… It’s Christmas Eve. My father will be worried. I can’t leave him alone at Christmas, as much as I want to stay.”

  “And you’re certain you know how to get home?”

  Doubt and fear began to crowd in on me. “I think so.”

  “You know that it’s going to get dark soon. The night comes in so early with the snow.”

  “It can’t be that far away,” I said, not certain at all as to how far Robbie had brought me after the incident with the monster.

  “You’re far enough away that with the snow, and the time of day, you’re putting yourself in terrible danger. There are still wolves in the woods, and those that remain are as hungry as we are – and if not wolves, then bears and… folk who are hungry enough to not abide by the usual common decencies, if you catch my drift.”

  My unease led to a snort of laughter. “What? You think that they might try and eat me?” I asked incredulously.

  “When your child is near death, people will do anything.”

  Wolves, bears, cannibals – it didn’t sound the most enticing of trips, but I needed to get home and I was certain in my heart, I now had the map.

  “Why don’t you stay for tonight. Enjoy the ball, and then tomorrow, I’ll ride you out to The Widows myself with some men – and guns. It would be a much safer option.”

  “Could we go now?” I asked, knowing I was pushing my luck.

  Robbie placed his hands on my shoulders and smiled reassuringly. “Tomorrow morning. Early.”

  As much as my head was screaming at me to go, I found myself nodding. “Early.
I really need to get back. My father will be losing his mind with worry.”

  “Early,” he said, guiding me back into the body of the house. “And with more suitable clothes. As much as I am finding the whole bandit-look highly attractive on you, I think perhaps we could find you something more fitting for both tonight and your journey tomorrow.

  I followed Robbie back up the stairs towards the corridor with the seemingly infinite doors.

  “There’s a trunk in one of the guest rooms that is full of gowns one of my cousin’s left behind. She was the kind of girl who wore a dress once and then discarded it, much to my mother’s disapproval. But my uncle was always such a lavish spender that I think he took a certain amount of pride in his daughter’s frivolousness.”

  “Was? They’re dead, too?”

  He shook his head. “Sorry, no – at least I don’t think so, it’s just that it’s such a long time since I have seen them. There was some kind of falling out between my father and him.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry.”

  “These things happen,” he said, stopping at one of the doors and turning the key.

  “How many bedrooms are there?”

  “I think thirty-five, not including the staff quarters.”

  I smiled to think how different it was to our house back home with its two bedrooms and tiny box room. Robbie would have thought we lived in a matchbox. I stood, taking in the fading grandeur of the room. It was bitter cold and the window was laced with ice. When I reached out to touch the beautiful embroidered silk bed throw, it felt damp to the touch.

  “Hopefully, there might be something here you can wear tonight. It’s not excessively formal. There’s a sense of dressing down to ensure the staff feel comfortable, but folk like to dress up a little nevertheless.”

  I nodded, taking in the trunk full of squashed satins and silks. It was hardly my go-to kind of evening wear, and even though the cedar balls did a good job at masking some of the must that had gathered, it didn’t completely rid the chest of eau du jumble sale.