CHAPTER 11
Katy
I f I spoke to you, would you remember me,” Katy sang softly before dropping off into a gentle hum as she switched the full bobbin for an empty one. She only had a little flax left to spin, but it would be shearing time again soon. They would make it. It would be tight, but they would make it.
Now if only the price of yarn would increase; she’d barely managed to pay the interest this year, and the remaining principal was enough to make her nervous.
“That’s a…lovely song,” Mother said. Looking up, Katy saw the slightest upward curve of her lips. The fire was crackling behind her, one of the few things Katy could keep at the level she wanted. It meant cajoling her father into spending time with an axe in his hand, but even if he wasted their money at the tavern, he cared about his wife and daughters. He was willing to put out the effort to keep them warm. “Where…did you…learn it?”
Feeling her cheeks redden, Katy looked back down at her spinning wheel to hide it. “It’s from the show Angelika and I saw in the capital.”
“Hmm. And you still…remember it?”
“As you said,” Katy murmured, “it’s lovely. I guess it stuck in my mind.”
And heart…but she wasn’t about to say that.
“Thinking…about Fritz?” Mother’s smile grew. “Is it…toni ght…he comes next?”
“Tomorrow night,” she absently replied. She would need to wash her good dress before then; Liesl had accidentally spilled some soup on it two days ago when Katy left the table to meet him. He was too sweet, she thought with a fond smile; instead of being upset by her tardy appearance in an old dress, Fritz had been very understanding. But it was one thing to wear an old dress because of an accident, and quite another when she’d had time to prepare.
“Such a…nice young man,” Mother sighed. Her eyes drifted closed, but the smile on her lips remained.
Returning her focus to her spinning, Katy let her mind play over their conversation. Fritz was a nice young man. And after three months of walking together, she knew the gossips among the old ladies expected to hear the announcement of their betrothal any day.
Katy rather expected it herself.
As she watched the flax filtering through her fingers, she realized that she’d begun humming again. It was a different song this time, but it was still one Gunther had sung in The Tanner’s Secret .
For some reason, the flax was getting blurry.
“Oh, this is ridiculous,” she muttered to herself. Pausing the spinning wheel for a moment, she swiped at her eyes with her sleeve. “It’s completely impractical. Fritz is a good man, and—and—”
This was the young noble’s fault. If he hadn’t befriended her, she would never have met Gunther, and she would have been thrilled to marry Fritz. But he had, and that had changed everything.
Well, not every thing. She was still going to accept Fritz’s proposal when it came.
Downstairs, she thought she heard the front door open. Katy ignored it until Adele’s voice began to grow louder. Even with the noise from the mill, Katy could hear her sister’s protests rising through the floor. “What are you doing? You can’t—I don’t care, you’re not allowed—Let go of me!”
Katy threw herself out of her seat, grabbing the fireplace poker as she rushed to the doorway. As she scurried down the stairs, the sound of the mill disappeared. Father must have heard enough of his middle daughter’s cries to realize something was wrong. Good – his strong shoulders would be useful.
Then she looked beyond the next step at the sound of another raised voice, freezing at the sight below.
Her father was yelling and gesturing wildly, but he was making no move to eject his antagonists. There were three of them, plus a fourth in the front room with Adele, still shouting. Yet it was not their numbers that kept him from physically throwing them out.
It was the swords on their hips and the dragon crest embroidered on their cloaks.
Slowly lowering the poker, she watched anxiously as her father argued with them. Why were royal guards here? She’d made the required payments!
Sheep have always been the backbone of this community! But what good are they when you can’t spin the wool? For thirteen years, King Steffan crippled us!
“No!” she gasped, barely audible to her own ears. She covered her mouth with one hand, the poker hanging limply from the other. His foolish words must have made it to the king, and now guards were here to drag him away.
He might waste too much of their hard-earned money in the tavern, and he might tend toward loafing more than working, but they couldn’t make it without his help. The guards couldn’t take him!
But what was she supposed to do about it ?
“—an outrage! You can’t take her – you have no right!”
“I’m sorry, sir, we have clear orders from the king. Now step aside.”
“I will not! I won’t let you—”
“Step aside, or I will be forced to make you.”
The guard’s hand moved toward the hilt of his sword, and Katy sprang back into action. “Wait!” The stairs creaked loudly beneath her feet as she nearly fell down them in her haste. “Please don’t hurt him!”
All four men swung around to face her. Father took a step in her direction, an anguished look flickering across his face. “No—”
“Are you Katrin, also known as Katy, daughter of Josef of Flussendorf?” one of the guards asked as he stepped around her father.
She stumbled to a stop on the ground floor. Panting slightly, she looked up at him with narrowed eyes. “I am. Why?”
For answer, he reached out and grabbed her upper arm with one hand while ripping the poker from her with the other and tossing it away. It clanged as it hit the floor. Father lunged forward, but another guard held him back. “Let her go!” Father snarled, struggling against the man restraining him. “You can’t—you can’t take her!”
Ignoring him, the guard began to haul Katy toward the front. She fought him, trying to wrestle her arm out of his grip, but her days of spinning were no match for his days of physical training. He simply tightened his hold until she had to grit her teeth so her cry of pain wouldn’t escape.
“What are you doing?” she gasped out. “Where are you taking me? And why?”
“I don’t want to hurt you,” the man replied without looking at her. “If you would come quietly, I wouldn’t need to.”
“But where are we going?” she asked again. She’d heard rumors that King Steffan had become volatile since his daughter’s death. Was this proof?
“Katy!” Adele’s voice lacked its usual brusqueness. “Let—me—go!”
“It’s all right, Adele,” Katy panted, twisting to look over her shoulder. So far, the guards were merely restraining her father and sister, not pulling them out after her, and she needed to keep it that way. “I’ll be fine. It will be fine.”
Outside, a bitter wind whipped at her, sending loose curls into her face and slicing through her thick wool dress. She shivered, drawing her arms across her stomach as she was tugged forward. A small crowd had gathered in front of the mill.
“Katy?” She heard a familiar voice above the murmur of her neighbors. A quick search revealed Fritz near the back on one side. His forehead was wrinkled as he watched her being led to a group of horses and four more guards.
She couldn’t decide if she was pleased or frustrated when he stayed put. Did he believe she must be guilty of something? Was he proving his wisdom by waiting for a more opportune moment to deal with the situation? Or did he not believe she was worth the hassle?
“You’ll ride in front of me,” the guard holding her said in a low voice. “If you cause problems, I’ll have to tie your hands. If you promise to cooperate, I’ll leave them free.” Casting a quick – and completely unconcerned – glance around their audience, he added, “If it were me, I would prefer not to be bound in front of my family and friends.”
She dropped her eyes to the ground. His eyes were professional – not unkind, but not compassionate. With a quick nod, she whispered, “I’ll cooperate.”
He wrapped his hands around her waist and hoisted her onto the saddle. She wobbled precariously while the horse tossed its head and stamped a hoof in displeasure .
Before she could worry about her position, the guard swung himself up behind her. His arms locked her in place as he collected the reins. She shivered again, from the nearness of this stranger as much as from the cold. He called out a curt command, and she looked up to see one of the other guards pulling a cloak from a saddlebag and tossing it up to him.
“We’re not going back in for yours,” he explained as he settled it around her shoulders. “And I expect this will be warmer.”
Katy wanted to resent his assumptions, but he was right.
“Thank you,” she murmured.
She still didn’t know where she was going or why, but at least she wouldn’t catch her death of cold on the way.
~
The sun sank below the horizon shortly before Katy and her escorts rode through the front gate of Himmelsburg Castle. The torches around the courtyard gave it a darker look than when she had visited her cousin Otto. Or maybe her feelings colored her impressions now that she was a prisoner instead of a free woman.
She caught herself looking for her cousin, hoping for a glimpse of a friendly face. It was unlikely, given he worked an early shift at a gate that wasn’t near the courtyard, but she eagerly scanned the people anyway.
Residents of the castle would have dismounted in the courtyard, but the guardsmen took their horses to the stables on the far side of the castle.
“This way.”
The guard that had ridden with her gestured toward the main building. Wrapping her borrowed cloak tighter, she began walking in the direction indicated. At least he wasn’t hauling her by her arm this time .
He led her through the halls of the castle until he came to a halt in front of a set of oak double doors. They were larger than the doors on an ordinary room, but not so large as to be obnoxious in their self-importance. A pair of guards blocked the way.
“Where are we?” Katy asked quietly.
Instead of answering, her traveling companion addressed the men in front of them. “The miller’s daughter, as requested by the king.”
One of them gave a curt nod and opened the door behind him. Not even the squeaking of hinges or grating of wood across the stone floor signaled the movement. As Katy’s guard led her through, she let her eyes wander about the large room. Under her feet was white marble with yellow swirls through it. Along both walls, tall, narrow windows would have let in the sunlight if it were day. Since it wasn’t, the space was lit by wall sconces.
She wished the chandeliers had been lit instead; the flickering shadows cast by the flames reminded her of the narrow passageways in the lower level of the theater. Anything could be lurking in those shadows. Her heart rate picked up as she dimly heard the scuffling noises that had caught her attention before Gunther had appeared.
Annoyed with herself, Katy pinched her lips together. Being in the king’s castle for unknown reasons did not give her imagination permission to run away with itself. She sternly clamped down on it, and the shadows lost their ominous appearance while the echoes of the theater hallway disappeared.
At the far end of the room, two wooden thrones with dark red cushions sat on a dais. They were empty, but she suspected they weren’t going to stay that way. If she’d been brought to the throne room on her arrival, King Steffan must wish to see her.
Katy noticed her hands trembling as the guard stopped several strides from the dais. A king was simply a man; she shouldn’t feel intimidated about meeting one. And perhaps in different circumstances, she wouldn’t have.
But she still didn’t know why she was there.
And meeting a king rumored to be volatile when she didn’t know why she was meeting him was…a little nerve-wracking, to say the least.
Rubbing her arms under her borrowed cloak, she looked around nervously. The rustle of her movements was almost loud in the excellent acoustics of the silent throne room. Even her guard was perfectly noiseless.
She wished she could have Otto as her guard. Even if he stayed as silent as this one, his familiar presence would be a comfort.
“How long do you suppose we’ll be here?” she whispered.
The guard glanced at her before returning his eyes to the front. “I don’t know, Miss.”
Frustrated, Katy crossed her arms and walked in a small circle for something to do. If the king wasn’t immediately available, couldn’t he have allowed her to wash off the dust and fix her hood-mussed hair first? No one had even bothered to explain why she had been dragged from her home like a criminal.
Since she wasn’t one, she didn’t plan to meet the king looking like something the cat brought home. Not if she could help it.
Ripping the ribbon from her braid, she jerked the twisted strands free and began combing through her riotous curls with her fingers.
“What are you doing?” the guard whispered. His eyebrows dropped as he watched her out of the corner of his eye.
“Making myself presentable for the king.” She flashed him what she meant to be a sweet smile, but it felt more like a sneer. “Since he has graciously provided the time. ”
He opened his mouth, closed it again, and looked straight ahead.
She was gathering her hair into a bun, the ribbon between her lips, when a door behind the thrones flew open and a tall man with strawberry blonde hair and pale skin stormed through it. Unlike Katy, he wore clothing made of expensive materials and boots that shone with polish. A dark red robe fluttered behind him as he strode across the dais, his head turned to a servant scurrying along behind him.
“—to me—the instant he reappears—”
After these two, a middle-aged woman swept through the doorway. Her dark brown hair was braided around her head in a crown, similar to how Louise often wore hers. It was more regal on this olive-skinned woman who could only be Queen Carina, her dark red dress flaring around her as she walked.
Was it a bad sign that both monarchs were formally attired in the royal family’s colors? Or was this how they normally presented themselves in the throne room?
A cleared throat pulled her attention to the guard next to her. He was lowered in a bow, one fist pressed to his chest. Taking the hint, Katy dropped into the best curtsy she could manage with her hands holding a mass of twisted hair behind her head and a ribbon hanging from her mouth.
Perhaps she should have released her hair, but she’d spent the last minute wrestling it into position. She wasn’t redoing it simply because a man with too much power decided to finally show up.
And she’d thought her father was foolish for his remarks in the tavern. Wincing, she slowly gave up on her hair and moved her hands to lift her skirt like she should.
She could hear King Steffan muttering under his breath, but apparently the acoustics weren’t as impressive as she thought, because she couldn’t make out much. “—sible—never here—need him—”
“You could have waited until later,” the queen murmured. Her lips barely moved; Katy wasn’t sure she’d heard the words correctly.
“No.” The king scowled. “I am dealing with this immediately. It’s his own fault.”
Katy couldn’t help being curious about this exchange, but neither royal appeased her curiosity by continuing. Instead, King Steffan turned his fierce expression on her.
“You. You’re the girl who spins?” he demanded.
She nodded. “Ye—” Pausing, she whisked the ribbon from where it was stuck on her lower lip. She felt her cheeks heating. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
“And your work is of the highest quality?”
Brow furrowing, she replied, “Yes, Your Majesty.” It felt like bragging to admit such before the king, but he’d asked, and it was true.
A smug grin spread across his face as he settled against the tall back of his throne. “Good. Then I will take the balance of my principal now.”
“Your—what?” she responded blankly, failing to connect the statement with the questions.
His grin widened; it reminded her of a cat stalking a mouse. “Your father, Josef of Flussendorf, owner of the mill there, did borrow a substantial sum of money from the crown six years ago for the purpose of purchasing a flock of sheep and a spinning wheel, did he not?”
Katy felt the blood drain from her face. “Yes,” she whispered.
“The balance is now due.” He said it firmly, heavily, his eyes boring into hers.
“But I’ve paid the interest!” she protested, taking a half step forward. Her chest heaved as she clasped her hands so tightly in front of it that her knuckles whitened. This couldn’t be happening! “And I’ve paid as much of the principal as I can. We haven’t defaulted!”
His hazel eyes glittered. “If your father’s words are to be believed, you must be living quite well if you can’t pay more than you have. That much gold would more than cover the debt.”
“G-gold?” she stuttered. Her hands dropped an inch as she struggled to keep up. “What are you talking about? We don’t have any gold.”
King Steffan leaned forward. She stepped back a little in response; his eyes seemed as wild as her hair. “The gold you spin your wool into.”
The king wasn’t just volatile. He’d lost his mind!
“I-I don’t know where you received your information, Your Majesty, but I assure you, there’s been a mistake,” she stammered. Shrinking back, she hunched her shoulders and wrapped her arms around her waist. “I can’t spin wool into gold. No one can. It’s impossible!”
Beside her, the guardsman was as stiff as a board, his expression the blank one that only trained guardsmen could maintain in the face of such a statement. Up on the dais, Queen Carina was giving her husband a sidelong look, her hands folded neatly in her lap and her lips pursed. She didn’t do anything to halt the madness, though.
“Your father says you can. What is more, he blames the crown for his need to borrow money in the first place.” The king’s voice was rough in his anger. He gripped the armrests of his throne as he stared her down. “Therefore, I am calling your debt. The balance is due in full. Immediately.”
“But I—” Katy cast her eyes to the queen, pleading silently for help. Queen Carina set her left elbow on the armrest and rubbed her fingers slowly together. “We are poor. There is no way we can pay more than we already have, let alone the balance!” She licked her dry lips before continuing. “The price of yarn is down, and I barely scraped together the money for the interest this winter. If there had been less flax, I wouldn’t have accomplished that much.” Clasping her hands once again, she held them at her waist before dropping to her knees in desperation. “Please, I do not understand why you wish us to pay now, but I beg you, let us have the time originally agreed upon. Please!”
She bowed her head, her loose hair bushing out around her face. Her hands were trembling, but she couldn’t stop them; her father had accepted too much money. He’d paid off several other debts with the money he’d borrowed from the crown, and he’d bought sheep ready for shearing at a time when sheep were costly. Now the price of yarn and wool was down, which meant the animals were also worth less. To raise the necessary funds, her family would have to sell everything they had. Including the mill.
But then they would have nothing left, not even a place to live. Mother was too weak to live without shelter, and she couldn’t assume that her cousin’s family would – or could – take them in. Fritz would probably propose, but Klaus had been conspicuously absent for several weeks, so Adele would be dependent on the family even if Katy could throw herself on Fritz’s kindness. And who would seek to court either of her sisters if they were penniless?
“Please,” she begged once more, her voice barely a whisper through her tight throat. Her eyes were closed, but she doubted she could have seen clearly if they were open. “Don’t do this.”
The guard shifted next to her, but she couldn’t take comfort in what might be a sign of compassion for her. Not when this mad, uncaring king had just ruined her family over a drunken statement. He hadn’t yet ordered her from the throne room, but neither had he offered mercy.
Finally, the king spoke. His voice still had a self-satisfied edge to it. “I will not rescind calling your father’s debts. He failed to show appropriate respect for the crown, and that must be dealt with.” She covered her bent face with her hands. “However, I will offer you a deal that will let you pay it off. If you can complete it.”
“Anything!” Katy said eagerly, lifting her head and springing to her feet. She caught the amused and not-quite-nice glint in his eyes, but she was too concerned about her family to care. “I’ll do anything!”
Leaning back once more, the king studied her over his steepled fingers. “Tonight, you will spin wool. Tomorrow night, flax. The night after that, straw.” Katy started to relax; she’d never tried to spin straw, but she had plenty of experience with wool and flax. Although why would he… “If you spin the material into gold each night, I will admit the truth of your father’s claim, and I will cancel his debt as a wedding gift.”
“Wedding gift?” Katy choked out.
“Yes,” he replied with a raised eyebrow. “When you marry my son.”
The queen’s head jerked toward her husband, her eyes wide as her arm slipped off the armrest. “Steffan?” she exclaimed.
He didn’t respond. The king’s narrowed eyes remained focused on Katy, waiting for her answer.
It had been a long day, and Katy’s head was spinning, overwhelmed by the unexpected announcements of the last quarter hour. Where did she even begin? “What if—what if I don’t want to marry your son?” she finally said in a somewhat dazed tone.
“Then the debt will still be owed.”
“And—if I fail to spin gold?” she asked hesitantly. Because that was impossible.
“Then you will not marry my son, and the debt will still be owed,” he said flatly.
She had to make sure. “There will be no additional punishment if I try and fail?”
“No.”
Katy folded her hands together and lowered her head while she tried to think clearly. The king had set her an impossible task, and despite her initial assessment, she believed he knew it. Which made it strange that he didn’t intend to inflict further penalties on her or her family if she tried and failed – why offer the deal at all?
Was there something she was missing?
“And if I choose not to try?” she asked carefully. She raised her head enough to see his face. “Will I be free to go home, or will I remain here as your prisoner?”
“Hmm…well, now that I’ve offered a way out…” The king smirked at her. From the corner of her eye, she saw the queen’s elbow propped up again, fingers rubbing. “If you refuse to attempt the deal, I’ll have to confiscate the deed to that mill of your father’s for his treasonous words.”
As Katy’s breathing quickened, he relaxed onto one arm, giving a careless wave with the other. “You are not a prisoner, Katrin of Flussendorf. You may leave whenever you wish, whether you wander the city or return home. But unless you spin gold tonight, tomorrow night, and the next, and agree to marry my son as your reward, my steward will arrive at your home with a squad of guards at the end of the week to collect the money your father owes me. And if you leave the city before you complete the deal – or before you fail trying – the deed is mine.”
At least nothing would change as long as she tried, she reasoned. But since she knew she would fail, she had to try one more time to find a better solution.
“There is nothing else you will accept?” she asked. She pressed her hands together to keep them from quivering like her voice. “I cannot simply spin high quality yarn for you for as long as you desire? You could have as many of my years as you like, if you will only accept it as payment and leave my family be.”
“I am not interested in a slave, nor in having a private source of yarn,” he scoffed. “Your father attempted to incite a riot in your hometown, accused me of failing my people, and claimed riches from the gold you spin. This is about nothing more, and nothing less than proving his claim will save him from the due penalty of his actions.”
“I see.” Her voice was quiet, but it carried in the empty room. She took a deep breath to calm her nerves. “Then where do I need to be tonight?”
~
Her guard led her to a large room on an upper level of the castle. Its only furniture was a small bed pushed against one wall. Nearby sat a spinning wheel; the rest of the space was filled with more wool than she could reasonably spin in one night. Since she wouldn’t be turning it into gold, she supposed the amount was unimportant.
Setting her candle on the floor next to the spinning wheel, she removed her borrowed cloak from her shoulders. She walked back to the door and held it out to the guard. “Thank you again for the loan.”
Instead of taking it, he glanced past her. “The king has ordered your door watched while you spin, and I cannot hold it while standing guard. Keep it for the night and give it to me in the morning.”
“Are you sure? ”
He gave her a sharp nod before turning to face the hallway.
“Thank you, then. Good night.”
Closing the door, she turned to survey her temporary prison again. Look on the bright side , she thought wearily. I’m back in the capital. Not that she had any hope of meeting Gunther, let alone furthering a relationship. She was going to be penniless by the end of the week. Unless a miracle occurred, in which case she would be betrothed to a complete stranger.
Neither prospect made her feel very hopeful, but at least the latter would protect her family.
Wandering to the other side of the room, she traced the position on the wall where a window might be if it were an outer wall. She’d never slept in a windowless room before. It might not be the dungeon cell that she’d feared during the journey, but she still felt trapped, especially since there was a guard outside the door.
Wrapping her borrowed cloak around herself, she curled up on the bed and allowed herself a few minutes to fall apart. She’d been torn from her home without the chance to tell her parents or sisters goodbye; they must be worried sick wondering what had happened to her. Her sisters sometimes drove her crazy, but she desperately wished to have one of them with her now. In a few days, they would be homeless because of her father’s rash words and an unpredictable king.
And if she wanted to prevent it, she had to spin this wool into gold and marry a prince she didn’t want.
Finally, she wiped the tears from her eyes, sat up, and used the hem of her dress to blow her nose since she refused to dirty the borrowed cloak. Then she pushed herself off the bed, grabbed some wool, and settled herself at the spinning wheel. If she didn’t try, the king would take the deed to the mill, which would ensure they had nothing left after paying the debt. So even though she would be spinning normal yarn, she intended to work her way through as much as she possibly could while maintaining quality.
It wouldn’t be gold, but the king would have to admit that she had tried.