The Time of the Clockmaker (18 page)

“You could have done it some other way!”

Keep your voice down if you don't want one of the maids to come in,
Henley hissed, and I knew he was right.
What other way was there? There wasn't any time. I had to act.

“You acted in a way that brought so much attention . . . Even if I had
tried
to draw more attention, I don't think I could have.”

So you wanted me to let that candelabra drop on you? Sorry for not abiding by your wishes. I'll know better next time.

“You know I don't mean that. It's just . . . Now everyone knows.”

Knows what?
He scoffed.
That you're somehow “blessed by God”?

“I don't know what they think. But I do know that they don't think I'm normal anymore. Any hope of me passing unnoticed, grabbing the clock, and going is pretty much shattered.”

So what?

“What do you mean, so what? You're the one who always insisted on making this as simple as it could be—get it and go. This is as far from simple as you can get!”

The game has changed, Rebecca. That's just it. The game has changed, and the rules have changed, but we're still playing it to win.

“This is more than a game . . . this is my life.”

All the more reason we need to win.

“I don't think you fully realize what the consequences are for what you just did. You not only put yourself in danger of being found out, but you also put me in danger. What if Miss Hatfield's murderer was there in the room watching when you pulled that stunt?”

What then? It's not like he could have seen me.
Henley chuckled and I had never wanted to smack him more.
And as for you, he'll think that you're some sort of blessed angel on earth. Or maybe even that you have superpowers.

Henley laughed, not caring who heard him. His voice reverberated in the room.

He won't even touch you after that scene in the great hall. You should have seen yourself—you sat there with a halo of fire. Everyone was under your spell.

“And what about you?” If the attacker was in fact immortal, I feared he could do something to hurt Henley.

You really don't have to worry about me. What could he do to me? Kill me? If only.

I knew he didn't mean it the way it sounded, but Henley's words hurt. I loved him. I didn't want to see him this way—without a body, with those thoughts in his mind. If only things
could have stayed the way they were when we first met. Henley had no clue about immortality, time travel . . . even who I really was, but things were better that way. At least he was happier.

“It shouldn't have happened this way,” I whispered.

Well, it is what it is.

SEVENTEEN

“
ELEANOR! LADY ELEANOR
!”

I jolted up in bed and held my head, cursing myself for sitting up too quickly. Light was streaming in from the windows. The sun was high—maybe eleven or noon? It had been a late night, and since the countess hadn't mentioned we would be meeting anyone the following day, I had assumed I could sleep late.

“Eleanor, wake up!”

It wasn't Helen's voice. It wasn't Joan's either. As I listened closely, I realized that it was the countess.

The door blew open and the countess breezed in, closely followed by both Joan and Helen.

“Good. You're up.”

I was about to make a snarky reply about how it was impossible to sleep through the ruckus, but seeing as it was the countess, I thought it better to hold my tongue.

“You need to get dressed immediately,” she said.

I slipped out of bed slowly, so as to not make myself dizzy again. “With the commotion you're making, I'd think the entire palace was on fire,” I muttered.

“Nonsense. Helen, get out Lady Eleanor's finest dress. The green one, I mean. Joan, you brought the jewels?” The countess stood in the middle of the room like a black pillar, instructing everyone to move around her.

I didn't have a clue as to what this was about, but I figured the countess would have to tell me sooner or later.

“I've had brilliant news,” the countess said, turning to me. “And of course, I've already notified Lord Empson about this.”

I waited to hear what “this” was.

“A very great honor has been bestowed upon you, my dear girl. And on us.” The countess moved forward to clasp my hands. “After the spectacle last night, you are to see the king.”

She paused to wait for my response, but I didn't know what to say or how to react.

“Well?” she said after a second. “What do you say to that?”

“I don't know,” I answered truthfully.

“I know it must be confusing. Especially to be chosen by God, out of the blue like that, but you must know that it's your destiny. You can't escape it.” The countess's eyes glittered. “And the king . . . This is the king asking for you! Personally.”

“I guess I'll have to go, then.”

“Now, listen to me,” she said. “When you first walk into the room, you will address the king as ‘Your Majesty,' then subsequently as ‘sir.' After the introduction, you will, of course, curtsey and lower your eyes. Curtsey again when he leaves, or when he dismisses you. I don't suppose they teach you important
things such as these in the Grand Duchy of Lithuania.”

“No, they don't,” I muttered. “And when am I to be summoned to the king?”

“Right now, of course!”

“Of course . . .”

“Now hurry up! The king cannot be kept waiting!” The countess began pacing in the middle of the room.

I didn't know whether that last comment was more for me or Helen, who was struggling to dress me under so much stress. When she lifted the emerald dress over my head, I could feel her fingers trembling against the fabric. I wanted to say something to soothe her, but I didn't know what to say and I didn't want to get her in trouble with the countess.

The countess finally quit pacing and exited the room. She looked far more nervous than I was . . . and I was the one who was supposed to meet the king.

It all seemed strange to me. I didn't know why the king wanted to see me in the first place. But it was doubtful that the king would
not
have heard about the occurrence last night, since
everyone
witnessed it. Maybe he thought it was some sort of witchery? Would they threaten to lock me up? In my mind, there was nothing to say about the incident—nothing I really could say. But I suppose he felt differently.

“Hurry!” The countess's voice harped above the scuffle from outside the room. “The king's footman is already here to escort you!”

“There you go . . .” Helen attached heavy earrings encrusted with pearls onto my ears. “You should hurry, so you don't keep any of them waiting.”

I nodded my thanks and picked up my skirts to run to the sitting room. The countess and the footman both eyed me disapprovingly until I put my skirts down.

“Very well.” The countess clasped and unclasped her hands in front of her.

The footman nodded toward me, and I took that to mean I should follow him out the door.

He took unfamiliar turns and walked down hallways I didn't know existed. Though it was the middle of the day, these hallways were dim, lit only by the occasional torch on the walls.

“Are we in some sort of underground tunnel?” I asked, but the footman didn't look over his shoulder at me.

When we got to a particular door with guards outside, the footman signaled one of them. The guard to the right knocked, then slipped in.

“Lady Eleanor Shelton . . .” It was muffled through the thick wooden doors, but I heard him or someone else announce me.

The guard slipped out of the room and held open the door for me.

Introduction, then curtsey,
I thought.

I took a few steps into the room before I bobbed down to the ground. I tried to remember to lower my eyes.

Okay, so far so good,
I thought.
Now ‘Your Majesty' before ‘sir.'

I looked up to see that I was in a room filled with maps. There were maps on the long table in the middle of the room. There were maps rolling off the red chair in the corner. They were all hand drawn and looked antiquated to me, like the globe teetering on the edge of the table, but I knew they must have
been the finest modern technology of the time.

There was a figure with his back to me, facing the window. I would have said that he was looking out of it, except the curtains were drawn, making it look like he was staring into the fabric of the curtain.

“Your Majesty,” I mumbled. It looked as if I had interrupted something, but I reminded myself that it was he who had called on me in the first place.

There was no immediate response, but the king did turn to face me. I was already up from my curtsey, and with my eyes no longer trained demurely on the floor panels, I looked him in the eye.

What I saw was a handsome young man with the gaze of someone far older. He stared back at me, unflinching. It wasn't that his gaze was open and frank with me, it was that he didn't see the need to hide anything. There was nothing that he thought I shouldn't see, and that was rare.

I was the one to look away.

“The feast,” he said.

“Yes. I know that surprised many people.”

To my great astonishment, the king roared with laughter.

“Surprised? It's not every day that you get a supper guest like that.”

I looked down at the edges of my skirts, not sure how to answer any questions he might have.

He drew nearer. “It's not every day that an angel comes to the aid of your supper guest either.”

“I don't know what to say, sir.”

“I know it must be confusing.” He took me by surprise with
his gentle voice. “But how did you do it?”

“I'm sorry, sir. I don't know what—”

“Was it prayer? Did you pray before?”

“No—”

“Leave an offering?”

I was starting to panic from his direct questioning. “It just happened. I really don't know why it did, but it just happened,” I said. “I swear it.”

The king took a step back, still locking eyes with me. I wasn't prepared for what I saw on his face; it wasn't anger, or even annoyance—it was awe.

I shook my head. “I'm sorry I can't be of more help, sir.”

He ignored me. “Was that the first time something like this miracle has ever happened to you?”

“Y-yes.”

“Don't you see what this means? God favors you.”

My palms sweated and I was uncomfortable with the situation, but I knew it was far better than Henley being discovered. I was fairly sure there wasn't anything they could do to him, but I didn't want to find out—especially if there was another immortal in court.

“You've been blessed by the Lord himself, and that was a sign of having his favor. Now tell me, have you seen any visions lately? At night, maybe?”

“No, none,” I said, truthfully.

The king ran his thumb across his closely shaven jaw. It was a movement I had seen Richard do, and it reminded me of him suddenly.

“What do you think about a cure to death?” he asked,
taking me by surprise yet again.

“A cure? For death?”

“A potion for immortality,” he said.

I felt a cold sweat drip down my back. “I'm not quite sure what to think of it.”

“Do you think it's possible?” he asked.

I wondered if he knew anything I didn't. What did he know about immortality?

I answered carefully, “So far, there hasn't been cause for me to think immortality possible.”

“And what if there was?”

“I don't—”

“I believe it to be possible.” He said it so easily I didn't know what to make of it.

“H-how . . . ?” I stuttered.

“We've come up with cures for so many diseases. I have my physicians—the best in the country, and everywhere else—working on cures to things like the sweating sickness. Similarly, I have my alchemist working on coming up with a way to attain immortality.”

Hearing the word “alchemist,” I automatically thought of Richard. Wasn't he an apprentice with the alchemist? Would he know about this research?

The king gave me a dazzling smile, making me pause. “But you would tell your king if you found a cure for death, wouldn't you?” His voice, which had sounded so earnest a few seconds ago, turned cold. “If you were told the secret by someone . . . or something?” He took one large step to come face-to-face with me. “People never have the one thing they want.
That's
my one
desire. That's the one thing I need to secure a dynasty.”

“Immortality?”

“It's even better than having an heir. Think. Ruling yourself. For all of eternity.”

My breath drained out of me. “For all of eternity . . .”

“You may leave.”

I gathered myself up, and managed to remember to curtsey before I stumbled out the door.

Immortality. It was on everyone's lips. I had to track Richard down.

“How was meeting the king?”

The countess was standing in the middle of the room when I came in. It was as if she hadn't moved since I had left for the king's chambers. Knowing her and how she worried about these things, she probably
hadn't
moved.

“Well?” she asked. “Do speak up. It's rude to keep anyone waiting.”

“It went well,” I said.

“That's it? He asked about last night, did he not?”

“Yes, he did.”

“Did he say anything in particular?” I could tell that the countess was trying hard not to pry like Lady Sutton would. “How was his mood?”

“He was very pleasant.”

“
Just
very pleasant? Or
very
pleasant?” she asked. “You do realize there's a difference.”

“The king seemed to be in a fine mood,” I said. “Do you know anything about the alchemist he employs?”

“The royal alchemist? Did he say something about that?” She frowned. “For shame. Did he ask you if you were involved in some sort of alchemy?”

“No, he did not. What do you know about the royal alchemist?”

“Good. Thank the Lord. Alchemy is not something a well-bred woman should get involved in, or any woman, really. Alchemy is too controversial. Too close to the Devil's work, if you ask me.”

I wanted to tell her that I wasn't asking her, but I knew that I wouldn't get the information I wanted by irritating her and having her clam up. I just had to let her go on.

“The royal alchemist, you say?” she said, more than a few minutes later, after she had extracted as much about the king's mood from me as she could. “I tend not to keep his company, but Lady Sutton certainly does. I believe Lady Sutton mentioned that he's Venetian, when she was gossiping about something or other. They met during her time in the Venetian court. His reputation preceded him, and the king had to have him for his own. Venice has too much gold, anyway.”

“So the alchemist primarily works on making gold out of nothing?” I asked.

“Never start your sentences with ‘so.' It makes you sound absolutely boorish. I don't know what his primary job is, but yes, I imagine trying to make gold is a large part of what he does. I try not to make a habit of knowing too much of what he does. He's not the sort to get mixed up with.” The countess cocked her head. “Why do you want to know? The king must have mentioned it if you're so curious about alchemy.”

“He did mention it,” I began. I wanted to tell her the truth, but without telling her about immortality. That was a complication I could live without. “But not for me to get involved in. He called me to his presence simply to ask about the feast last night. The king wanted to know if I had been praying. He wanted to know things like if something like that had ever happened before.”