The Secret of the Seven Princesses
Secrets Chapter 9

Petra rarely remembered the details of her dreams. Most of the time, she could recall the feelings or emotions they evoked—whether triumph, disappointment, anger, or delight—but it was uncommon for her to have a tangible memory of a dream.

Deep in blissful oblivion, she dearly hoped that this would be a dream that she would remember—if only for the exhilaration rushing through her veins. Her dream-self demonstrated a dexterity that her real self had never possessed; she dashed in and out of shadows along the manor's main hallway, entirely disappearing from sight only to reappear again several feet away. Her heart pounded as she stole from corner to corner, avoiding the few people who meandered by, their faces a blur. All the while, she maintained a distinct visual of her prize. She didn't know what it was, but her dream-self communicated the urgency that she must possess it at all costs. As Petra drew closer to her object, it slowly began to come into focus and take a recognizable shape. She felt a flash of comprehension as her hands closed around the mysterious object and—

BOOM!

Petra jolted awake, the images of her dream trickling away from her conscious memory like water through her fingers. She groggily pulled down the blankets covering her head to glare at the culprit who had so obnoxiously woken her by slamming the door—only to be startled into true wakefulness by the unwelcome sight of her father standing at the entrance to the princesses' bedchamber. Despite the earliness of the hour, Gustave was already replete fully dressed and impeccably quaffed, with velvet waistcoat and gem-encrusted crown. Upon seeing the glint of the circlet in the sunlight, Petra felt the same flash of recognition from her dream…but no; it would be too difficult. She wasn't her dream self, after all. And there were more pressing matters at hand.

Lit from behind by the early morning sun, King Gustave was flanked on either side by Valeria and Justine, the maid usually charged with cleaning the princesses' domain.

"Rise and shine, girls," boomed Gustave, stepping further into the room. He walked to the nearest window at the head of Cliodne's bed, whipping open the curtains and sending a stream of sunlight over the second-born's form.

"Father…" Cliodne groaned, drawing her covers over her curly head of curls to evade the blinding rays and snuggling further into the darkness. "What is the meaning of this?"

"Truly, Father," Petra protested, mustering up her best what-are-you-thinking? look. "Couldn't this wait for a little later in the day?" This seemed to have little effect on her father, however, as he merely returned her look with one of his own.

"It certainly cannot," he said. "If I were to wait until later, you'd all be scattered to who-knows-where. I needed to speak to all of you at one time, and as our last dinner meeting apparently didn't convey my meaning well enough, I thought I'd make my statement in a different way."

He had successfully gained the princesses' undivided attention. Callia and Thaleia were sitting straight up in bed, rubbing sleep from their eyes. Callia had drawn her knees up to her chest, whereas Thaleia regarded her father with a saucy—albeit sleepy—defiance. Eurielle and Cliodne didn't look nearly so alert, both still relatively prone under the covers, with only their heads sticking out. They each blinked sluggishly through their thick lashes, and Eurielle in particular seemed to find it difficult to focus on their father. Only Eralie and Raia, the early risers of the group even from the start of their adventure, seemed relatively conscious. In fact, their presence in the room and in their beds attested to the early hour. Petra could never remember a time when she had woken up early enough to catch either princess still in bed.

"When I spoke with you a month ago, I hoped that I would witness a change in your behavior," said Gustave, strolling around the foot of each princess' bed, his sharp glance belying his leisurely stride. "Considering the measures I have taken to ensure your safety inside this manor, I had hoped that you would respect my wishes as your father and your protector." sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ (F)indNƟvᴇl.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

"But I was apparently over-hopeful. Valeria tells me—" he indicated the rotund woman standing behind him— "that my daughters have continued to lie abed far past the waking hour, and that they—you—are tired and secretive during the few hours you are awake. Furthermore, Justine has informed me that in cleaning your bedchamber and retrieving your laundry, your clothes and shoes have been in unacceptable states of disrepair. Again, I must conclude from these clues that my daughters are somehow sneaking from the castle at night and doing who-knows-what in some unknown place." Eurielle shifted uneasily, but stopped when Petra shot her a quelling look. Their father ignored the slight disturbance as he continued. "But what I fail to understand is—how? For Valeria and Justine have not been the only ones to report news of my daughters' activities."

Gustave paused for dramatic effect. Petra couldn't see his face, for he had turned his back on the princesses to face his informants, but she could well picture his serious expression. Her estimation was confirmed an instant later, when he wheeled around to address his daughters again.

"Have you forgotten about the guards I placed outside your door at night? They were supposed to prevent this from happening, but they have apparently failed—for not only are my daughters still wandering beyond their bedchamber at night, but my finest guards have been unable to discover anything about where they are going or how this is possible. In fact, they have not reported anything at all. By this, I must assume that however you are leaving your room at night, it is not by way of the door." He cast a searching look around the room, lingering on the bolted windows at the other end. Petra's gaze swept the room as well, though she fixedly refrained from sparing even a glance toward the rug and the hidden passageway.

Gustave returned his attention to the princesses. "So, my daughters, I must ask you once again to come clean about your activities. Where are you going at night? The forest? The village? How have you been leaving your room without alerting the guards?" He studied the face of each girl in turn; Petra was practiced in maintaining a stoic expression, and this talent served her particularly well at this moment. She didn't dare look at her sisters, but hoped that they, too, remained as composed and apparently innocent as she.

When Gustave spoke again, his voice was dangerously quiet. "Nothing? None of my daughters care to be honest with me? I had hoped for better. So I shall do what I proposed to do a month ago: place an overnight watch inside your room."

Eralie interjected, her voice surprisingly firm and her blue eyes blazing. "Father, if you mean to put a guard within the room, allow me to remind you that the times have not changed since the last time. It would have been improper a month ago, and it would still be improper now, to expose your daughters' reputations in such a way."

Gustave merely smiled. "So apparently my daughters would rather not have someone in their room at night? Your protests give me hope, my dear, that my new plan of action will succeed this time. But in answer to your question: no, I do not mean to put a palace guard inside your bedchamber for the entire village to whisper about. Instead, Justine—" the woman in question started upon hearing her name—"will bunk with you, and she will report to me everything that takes place in this room after dark."

Petra felt an electric jolt run through her, her mind frantically racing to consider how to foil this quite brilliant plan of her father's. Her sisters appeared to be in similar states of panic or surprise, some more visible than others. Thaleia ran her hand through her snarled bedhead anxiously, working her wavy auburn hair into even more of a mess. Eurielle's mouth was hanging open, and Petra dearly hoped that a fly would swoop into it. Callia's face was screwed up in consternation, and Eralie's eyebrows had risen above her hairline. Petra kept her face passive and her muscles relaxed, however, as she stared down Gustave defiantly, noting with satisfaction that when his eyes fell on her, they were quick in darting away again. She made a big show of yawning as if her father's announcement hadn't disturbed her a whit.

Unruffled by Petra's behavior, Gustave looked supremely satisfied at the reactions of his remaining daughters. "Well, then. I will leave you to the rest of your day. After all, you'll surely wish to enjoy the morning now that you're awake."

He smiled, his eyes crinkling in a way that Petra usually loved, then politely took his leave of the room, ushering Justine and Valeria out in front of him. Before the door shut behind him, Gustave glanced back at his stupefied daughters, allowing Petra a glimpse of the smirk that had replaced his smile. She felt irritation build inside of her, and she took great satisfaction in glaring at the now-closed door and hoping that, by some chance, it had hit her father on his way out.

Silence pervaded the room after his exit, then noise burst out from every corner of the room as the princesses started talking simultaneously.

"Now what can we do?"

"But if Justine comes—"

"Did you see his face?"

"I never expected him to—"

"Horrible!"

"He looked so smug, I just wanted to—"

Petra cut off her heated rant, noticing Cliodne's disapproving look and her efforts to get their attention. Gradually, the uproar died down as each princess turned their attention to the curly-headed leader and voice of reason.

"I know this is unexpected," she said. "But we had to know something like this was bound to happen eventually. So let's not waste our time on complaining about it, let's actually figure out what to do."

Upon being met with silence, Cliodne huffed and spoke again.

"Well, obviously, it's going to be a lot more difficult to sneak down the passageway at night with a baby-sitter in the room, right? So maybe we should hold off for a while, let Father's suspicions die down. Maybe he'll remove Justine after a couple weeks if it looks like we've stopped going."

Petra whimpered at the very idea, a weak sound that she hated from the moment it left her lips. But she wasn't the only one to make a sound of complaint—even one so uncharacteristic. Raia moaned, Eurielle groaned, Eralie shook her head violently, and Callia—was Callia crying? Yep, two tears plopped onto her rosy cheeks, and her eyes were over-bright. Cliodne raised her hands, palms side out. Petra caught the flash of a ring on her left pinky finger, and felt the strangest urge to flex her fingers…but her impulse was stopped by her sisters' words.

"Okay, okay. I get it, I want to keep going, too. But what else can we do?" She was met with a barrage of half-cocked, desperate suggestions.

"Could we lock her out?" Eurielle asked.

"Oh, that'd be great," Petra snapped. "That'd really keep Father off our backs about the whole thing. If anything, he'd be even worse!"

"We could send her on an errand right before we leave," said Thaleia.

"But even if that worked the first time, there's no way it'd work more than once," Eralie said softly.

"Why can't we just wait until Justine falls asleep?" Callia suggested.

"No one sleeps that deeply," said Cliodne. "And besides, it'd be too risky. She might wake up while we were gone and follow us down the trapdoor."

"What if she couldn't wake up?" Raia asked.

Petra glanced at her red-headed sister quizzically, wondering at her cryptic answer. Eurielle spoke up tentatively: "You don't mean…we're not going to kill her, are we?"

"Of course not!" Raia admonished."Then how wouldn't she wake up?"

"We could use valerian root." Her answer was met with blank stares from all of her sisters. Suddenly, Thaleia spoke drily: "Okay, I don't think we need to know what would happen if you crossed the housekeeper with the gardener."

Raia rolled her eyes and explained, "It's a plant that makes people sleep. I've seen Cook make it into a draught after one of the kitchen maids started sleepwalking, and Mollie said that it gives you the longest, deepest sleep of your life."

"I could use some of that right now," Thaleia said through a gigantic yawn.

Raia spared another glance at her twin, then continued. "My point is, how difficult would it be to give Justine a dose of valerian root sleeping draught in her dinner, or a cup of tea or wine before we go to bed? From my understanding, it takes a couple of hours to take effect, so no one would be the wiser. And we could still…you know."

Smiles slowly crept back onto the princesses' faces as they each contemplated the idea. It just might work.

Author's Note: Thank you to our wonderful readers and reviewers, and special thanks to Braindead Malfunctions. We really appreciate all the insight and questions, and please let us know in the coming chapters if there are questions that you feel were unanswered.

As always, reviews are much appreciated and beloved.

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