Bride to the King (11 page)

“You will see,” the King replied.

There was a note of satisfaction in his voice that told Zosina he was really quite pleased that she was going with him.

‘That will be my only excuse if I get into trouble,’ she thought.

It struck her that however plausible was the excuse of doing what the King wanted, the Regent would be disappointed if she behaved in a reprehensible manner after all the flattering words he had said to her.

Then she told herself that it would be foolish of her not to do what the King wanted, when so much depended on their being friendly.

‘If I refuse him this time, he might never ask me again,’ she decided, ‘and we would be back to hating each other and fighting.’

She stopped.

‘I mean,’ she added, ‘the King will be hating
me
.’

At the same time she had the uncomfortable feeling that what she had thought first was nearer to the truth.

The dinner party seemed to be interminable.

When the long drawn-out meal was finished, there were speeches, first by the Prime Minister welcoming the Queen Mother and Zosina to Dórsia, then one from the Regent which managed to be both sincere and moving, witty and amusing.

After him the Lord Chancellor droned on for over a quarter-of-an-hour.

As he did so, Zosina was acutely aware that the King was not only fidgeting restlessly in his chair, but also signalling to the footmen to fill and refill his glass.

‘He is so young, of course, he finds this rather boring,’ Zosina thought and at that moment felt immeasurably older than the man who was within a few weeks of being three years older than herself.

There were several other speeches, none of them saying anything that had not been said before and all of them should certainly have been shorter.

Zosina realised that they were all made by people who had to be heard because of their position in the country and it was with relief that she saw the Queen Mother rise and realised that this would be the last speech of the evening.

There was tremendous applause.

Then in her musical voice, speaking clearly and with a diction that her granddaughters had always admired, the Queen Mother thanked them all for her welcome to Dórsia and said how impressed she and her granddaughter had been with everything they had seen and all the charming people they had met.

“We are only halfway through this delightful visit,” she said, “and I cannot tell you how much I am looking forward, as I know the Princess Zosina is, to all we shall see tomorrow and most of all to our last engagement in the House of Parliament.”

This remark and the way her grandmother said it, Zosina thought, was a direct reference to the fact that it was there that her engagement to the King would be announced.

She knew by the expression of those listening and the way they looked at her that they too understood what her grandmother had not explicitly said in so many words.

She felt the colour coming into her face and almost instinctively she turned to look at the King.

He was lying back in his chair, quite obviously bored and completely indifferent to what was being said.

In fact, Zosina knew he had missed the point, which her grandmother had inferred.

She wanted instinctively to nudge him into an awareness that he should show himself pleased and smiling at the prospect of his engagement.

But once again she realised that he would think that she was interfering and correcting him and instead she forced a smile to her lips as if she, at any rate, was delighted at what lay ahead.

The Queen Mother’s speech came to an end with everybody in the room rising to their feet and not only clapping her, but calling out,

“Bravo! Bravo!”

“Thank God that’s over!” the King hissed, as at last the Queen Mother sat down.

He drank what wine remained in his glass and then rose to his feet to show that dinner was at an end.

The top table left the room first and when they were outside the Banqueting Hall, the Queen Mother said to the King,

“A delightful party, Gyórgy! Thank you so much for giving it for me and Zosina. The food was delicious and I enjoyed every moment of it!”

The King did not reply and after a moment the Queen Mother went on,

“I must admit I now feel rather tired and I think, Zosina, we should retire to bed. We have a great many engagements tomorrow.”

They all said goodnight, and as Zosina curtseyed to the King, he said, hardly moving his lips,

“Be ready!”

She gave him an almost imperceptible nod to show him that she understood.

At the same time, when, after saying goodnight to her grandmother, she retired to her own room, she asked herself if she was being crazy to leave the Palace at midnight.

It was something even Katalin would have never thought of among her wildest pranks and she could imagine that, if her mother was to hear about it, she would tell her that it was her duty to refuse the King’s exceedingly reprehensible invitation.

And she would instruct her also to inform her grandmother of what he intended to do.

‘That is just what he would expect,’ Zosina argued with her conscience, ‘and it would antagonise him once and for all, so that I doubt if he would even speak to me again.’

She felt nervous and afraid to the point where she longed almost desperately to say that, after all, she would not go.

Her lady’s maid, who had come with them from Lützelstein, was yawning surreptitiously and quite obviously she was put out at being kept up so late.

“We keep earlier hours at home, Your Royal Highness,” she grumbled, as she helped Zosina out of her gown.

“You must be tired, Gisela, and I do understand,” Zosina replied. “Now that you have undone my gown, I suggest you slip off to bed. I will manage everything else for myself.”

“I’m prepared to do my duty, Your Royal Highness!” the girl said.

“There is no need,” Zosina insisted, “and, as it happens, I have to write a letter to Papa so that I can give it to the Ambassador first thing tomorrow morning to go in the Diplomatic Bag. You may leave and you know I usually put myself to bed at home.”

Gisela was obviously very tired and, with a little more pressing from Zosina, she capitulated.

“Very well, Your Royal Highness. I’ll do as you suggest,” she said at length. “I’m not pretending these late hours don’t take their toll of me. I’m not used to them and that’s a fact!”

“No, of course not, Gisela. You have been wonderful to have managed the many changes of clothes that I have needed since I have been here. Goodnight!”

“Goodnight, Your Royal Highness!”

Gisela left the room and Zosina gave a little sigh of relief.

It had been easier than she had expected.

She went to the wardrobe and chose one of her simplest evening gowns, managing with a little difficulty to fasten it herself.

At home, when Gisela was usually far too busy to waste much time with them, the four sisters always helped one another and once again Zosina had an overwhelming longing to have Katalin with her.

‘How she would enjoy an escapade like this,’ she thought, ‘and what is more, if Katalin was here, I am sure she would manage the King far more competently than I can.’

However, she knew that her wishes had not a chance of fulfilment and once she was ready, she sat down in a rather hard chair to wait.

It seemed to her that time passed very slowly and for a moment she wondered if perhaps the King was playing a joke on her and had no intention of taking her anywhere.

Then she began to wonder what would happen if they were caught and brought back ignominiously to the Palace by the Military.

She would get a severe lecture from the Queen Mother, but worst of all, she would have to face the Regent.

She found herself thinking of the subjects they had discussed at dinner and how interesting they were.

‘It would be fun to dance,’ Zosina thought. ‘Equally it would be more fun to sit reading poetry with him and trying to be clever enough to cap his quotations.’

She thought of two books she would like to ask him if he had read and, if so, what he had thought of them.

She was just wondering what his opinion would be on Gustave Flaubert’s latest novel or if he would be shocked by the knowledge that she had even read such a book, when there was a knock on the door.

It made her start and for a moment she thought perhaps she had imagined it because it had been so faint.

Then she jumped to her feet, crossed the room, turned the gold handle and opened the door a few inches.

There was a man standing outside and she recognised him immediately. He was one of the
aides-de-camp
who had accompanied the King when they visited the Guildhall.

She had thought at the time that he was much younger than the others and he had looked at her in a manner that was not exactly impertinent, she thought, but did not show the respect that was usual amongst those in attendance.

Now with a grin on his face he did not speak, but merely jerked his head and Zosina slipped through the door into the passage.

He did not attempt to close it for her, but started to walk very quickly ahead, obviously assuming that she would follow him.

She did what was expected and found by the time they had reached the end of the corridor that she was almost running to keep up with him.

There was no one about and many of the lights had been extinguished and she noticed that the
aide-de-camp
kept to the side of the corridor and where possible in the shadows.

Then they were in a part of the Palace that Zosina had not seen before and she supposed they were going to the King’s suite.

Instead the
aide-de-camp
started to descend what was obviously a very secondary staircase.

Down they went until they were in a narrow, almost dark passageway and again Zosina found herself hurrying to keep up with the man ahead of her.

On and on, past closed doors behind which Zosina was sure were rooms that were unoccupied.

They descended yet another staircase and this time she was certain that they must be below ground level until, as they reached the bottom of it, she realised they were in the Palace cellars.

There, in the light of two flickering candles, she saw the King waiting for her.

“You have been a hell of a time!” he complained.

“I came as quickly as I could, Sire,” the
aide-de-camp
replied. “It’s a long way.”

“I thought you were going to rat on me,” the King said to Zosina.

“No, of course not!”

“Well, put this on and we will be off,” he said, thrusting something in her hand.

She looked at it in surprise and then realised that it was a domino.

She had never actually seen one before, but she and Theone had been interested in pictures of the fêtes which took place in Venice when for a whole week each year the Venetians wore dominos and masks and moved about the place incognito, enjoying a licence that could not take place except during a festival.

She saw that the King was already wearing his domino although he had not pulled the hood over his head and the
aide-de-camp
was hurriedly getting into one.

“This is exciting!” she exclaimed, “but please, help me. I am not certain how to wear it.”

“It’s not difficult!” the King said scornfully, as if he thought that she was being very stupid, “and here is your mask. Autal found you one with lace round it, because it is more concealing.”

Zosina realised that Autal was the
aide-de-camp
and she flashed him a glance of gratitude seeing as she did so, that already masked and covered by his domino, he was quite unrecognisable.

By this time some of the apprehension she had been feeling began to vanish.

She slipped the mask on, pulled the hood of the domino over her hair and, as the King did the same, she thought with satisfaction that it would be hard for anyone to suspect his real identity.

“Come on!” the King said impatiently, and now he was walking ahead with Zosina following and Autal bringing up the rear.

They did not go far and she was not surprised when they stopped at the cellar door which the
aide-de-camp
unlocked.

It swung open quietly as if it had recently been oiled and now there was a flight of steps.

Zosina picked up the front of her gown with one hand and held out the other to the King.

“Please help me,” she begged.

With what she thought was rather bad grace, he took her hand and pulled her rather sharply up the steps until they reached ground level.

There was a carriage standing in the shadow of a clump of trees.

The King climbed into it without suggesting that Zosina should get in first and she followed him, sitting beside him on the back seat while the
aide-de-camp
sat opposite.

The horses and there were two of them, started off immediately and the King, lying back, gave a laugh as he said,

“Now are you still doubtful that I can get out of the Palace without anybody being aware of it?”

“It was very clever of you, Sire, to use the cellar door!” Zosina said.

“There is to be no ‘siring’ and all that kow-towing now,” the King replied. “My friends call me Gyo, and that is who I am, and don’t you forget it!”

“I will – try not to,” Zosina promised.

“This is Autal,” the King said, waving his hand towards the
aide-de-camp
, “and we had better choose a name for you. Zosina is a bit unusual in Dórsia, for it not to be suspect.”

“Perhaps you could call me Magda. It is one of my other names,” Zosina suggested.

“That will do,” the King said ungraciously, “but I think Magi would be less pompous.”

Zosina thought it sounded rather common, at the same time she was not prepared to disagree.

“Very well,” she said. “I will answer to Magi. Are we going to meet many people?”

“All my friends,” the King answered, “and they will be wondering what the devil has happened to me. I thought those crashing bores would never stop droning on! One thing I promise you, something I shall forbid in the future will be speeches of any sort.”