Page 22 of Midwinter Wiles & Valerian Dreams
“It’s great, Aili!” I cut her off. “It’s amazing,” I give her arm a squeeze before dazzling Niemi with a huge smile. “Isn’t kids’ art the best?”
He chuckles, thankfully not asking more questions, and turns the paper over in his hand. “Well, isn’t this something,” he says, his eyes skimming the page where a familiar face gazes out at me. “A thousand-purse reward for finding this missing princess. Can you imagine?”
Behind him, there’s a gasp and a clattering crash from the courtyard. As one, we lean out to see Princess Talvie herself—looking nothing at all like the image on the poster to anyone except me—bent over a puddle of lingonberry juice spreading in the snow. The spilled jug rolls to a stop while the stack of containers in her hands teeters dangerously.
“Sorry, sorry!” she calls, muttering angrily under her breath about another mess. She does seem to find herself in a lot of messes. One colossal mess in particular, if that poster of her missing face is anything to go by. Just what is this princess running from?
Her gaze fixes on the paper dangling from Niemi’s hand, and the look of pure terror in her eyes drives me forward with a wild idea. It’s not without risk, but it appears we both have a lot at stake here. Maybe enough to make us allies.
“There you are, darling,” I say brightly, rushing out to help her. Niemi's eyes bore into the back of my head while I pray this doesn't blow up in my face.
The look Talvie gives me is half panic, half shocked disbelief, as if I just announced myself as the second coming of the Great Kraken. Or maybe she’s just not used to anyone smiling at her?
“Let me take those,” I offer before she can lose any more of our food (or her dignity) to the snow. The stack in her arms wobbles, and juice already stains her sleeve.
We both look up from the mess at once. “I was bringing your breakfast. At least, I was trying to…” Her voice is small, uncertain as she trails off. Nothing like the privileged princess I expect. “I dropped the juice.” Dejectedly, she waves a hand at the contents of the jug slowly hardening into the frost.
“I see that. Ah well, no loss.” I say with a laugh and a shrug, my voice upbeat. “Look, the jug is fine. Not even cracked. And we’ve got plenty of water to drink. I think we’ll survive.” My stomach chooses that moment to growl, and I glance down sheepishly. “This smells delicious.”
It doesn’t make her smile. Instead, her cheeks flush pink like they did last night. It’s surprisingly adorable. “Freshkorvapuusti. They’re still warm. Daria said everyone loves them and they’re the best for apologizing because of last night and, well, I wanted to—”
“No need!” I cut in. “Everything’s good! Now let’s enjoy these pastries before they cool. Come on in.”
She hesitates, but I reach out to take the precarious stack from her, leaving her to pick up the empty jug and follow me with the caddy of syrups. Less chance of disaster that way. On the porch, muskrat face watches us with beady, unblinking eyes as I steer my unsuspecting accomplice by her elbow. At least no more curious kids have gathered in the doorway.
“This is Sentry Niemi from CPS.” I keep my tone light as we join him, but give her elbow a little squeeze.
The sentry’s gaze flicks between us, dropping to my hand on her arm, and I take a hopeful breath.
“Sentry Niemi, this is my fiancée!”
The poor princess stumbles into my side.
Steadying her with one arm and cradling the dishes in the other, I can only hope she’s too shocked to argue. She wanted to apologize, so maybe she’ll play along.
I’d take some guilt-induced pity.
Is a little improv too much to hope for?Come on, I plead silently.‘Yes, and’ for me, princess.
“Fiancée?” Niemi’s expression does a funny sort of somersault, his head wobbling back and forth between us as his eyebrows reach for his hairline. He looks utterly kraken-bit. Then a smile bursts across his narrow face as he grabs Talvie’s hand in his. “But, Lark, you never said! Oh, this is wonderful. A fiancée! This will make all the difference.”
“Oh yes, itiswonderful, isn’t it?” I say, ducking my head toward hers as if to kiss the side of her temple. I stop just short, close enough to smell the fresh wintry scent of her hair and hopefully close enough to remind her of the whispered instructions I gave her last night.
Miraculously, she seems to get the hint to follow my lead.
Her lips tug into a smile that’s stiff but passes muster. “Hi, I’m Val.” She offers a fake name with remarkable composure. I’ll have to remember not to call her Talvie by mistake. Or princess.
She lifts the lid off the top box in my arms, the sweet smell wafting out like a peace offering. “Korvapuusti?”
“Oh, no, I shouldn’t.” The sentry’s hand hesitates mid-waver. “Well, maybe just one, then.” He plucks a cinnamon roll from the box and holds it with both hands up to his muskrat nose to inhale deeply. “Mmm, heavenly.”
Daria sure knows her stuff. Maybe I can convince the Sentry board with a bribe of baked goods. I’ll have to ask her for the recipe, or trade her an odd job for a fresh batch.
“Will you join us for breakfast?” I ask Niemi, my voice betraying my reluctance.
Fortunately, he shakes his head, still gazing fondly at his pastry. “I’ve seen enough today. I need to go update your file. A fiancée!” He takes a bite of one gooey corner of the roll, his eyes closing as he chews and swallows. “Mmm. Delicious. I’ll be in touch about your hearing soon, Lark, so don’t go anywhere. Engaged! Fantastic news. Simply fantastic.” He turns to stride away, still mumbling gleeful declarations under his breath that turn into humming as he goes.
As the sentry disappears from the courtyard, I’m left standing on the porch with an armful of pastries, a very confused princess, and a cottage full of hungry kids who are probably climbing the walls by now. I exhale slowly, turning to face her with what I hope is a reassuring smile.
