After we had tethered the horses by a small grove and climbed up the steep slope to my favorite place, I sat by John’s side—our backs against the jagged rocks, our legs hanging over the ledge—and waited for the magic of the mountain to work. Down below, we could see the river stretch itself lazily between the shores as if in no hurry to end its journey, while straight ahead, through the wisps of mist swaying over the waters, the other bank played hide-and-seek.
I had brought John there with the idea of telling him the truth about my world. But overwhelmed by the beauty of the place, I couldn’t bring myself to break the silence. And so when we returned to the castle later in the afternoon, John was still living in his own distorted reality, and I—I was still terrified. My plan was not working. I was no closer to John’s heart than I had been the previous day in California. What was wrong with him? Mount Pindo was as magical a place as you could find in my world. And I, well, I was a princess. What more did he want?
“Dinner,” John said, startling me. “When are we going to have dinner?”
“As soon as we get back. And don’t you worry. I’m sure Father has ordered a banquet in your honor.”
“A banquet? You mean like one of those Renaissance fair reenactments? I can’t wait.”
I couldn’t wait either—for the banquet to be over. The idea of John sharing a table with Father’s knights and their ladies was more than I could bear. But I had no choice. Father had demanded his attendance. In my world, nobody disobeyed the king.
The great hall was already full when we arrived. John rushed in without waiting for me. His long legs moving with the ease of a basketball player fending off a block, he made his way toward the center of the room. Above us, in the golden light of the evening sun, the massive iron chandeliers hanging from the wooden beams spread their arms like giant spiders in search of prey. Around the long trestle tables, ladies and gentlemen dressed in colorful garments moved about in small groups, sharing news and laughing at each other’s wit.
John was impressed. “Wow, Andrea! This is so cool! I don’t understand why you don’t like to come here.”
I forced my lips into a smile. “I’m glad you like it, John. But—” I would rather be sitting at one of the tables in the Coffee House in Davis, I was about to say, when I saw my sister Margarida coming toward me. Leaving my sentence unfinished, I ran to her.
“Ama Bernarda told me you had returned,” my sister said, her voice full of reproach. “I’ve been looking for you all day.”
“I’m sorry, Margarida. I really am. But I had to show Don Juan around.”
“Of course you did, little sister. I understand your wish to be with him. But you could have at least stopped to say hello.”
“You’re right. I should have.” Although her tone was stern, her eyes were twinkling, and I knew she wasn’t really angry. “Come, I’ll introduce you to him now.”
Weaving my arm into my sister’s, I turned toward the place where I had left John, and the easy smile Margarida had awakened in me faded. John was gone. For a long terrifying moment, I searched for him among the different groups. Being taller than most of the people in my world, he would have been easy to spot had he been in the room. He wasn’t.
I thought of John wandering alone through the castle and shivered. As fast as I could, I pushed my way toward the entrance. I had almost reached the door when I saw him. Standing by the doorway, he was helping a lady into the hall. And as the lady leaning slightly on his arm glided inside, my heart jumped to my throat and then sank so low it missed a beat:The lady was Rosa.
As usual, my sister was wearing one of those elaborate and cumbersome outfits that rendered her helpless. They were absolutely ridiculous outfits if you asked me, but men, I had often noticed, found them irresistible. Apparently John was no exception. “Brain dead,” I said to myself, quoting my cousin Kelsey’s favorite remark after many of her fights with Richard. It didn’t help.
“He is handsome, your prince,” Margarida was saying. “And he has good manners.”
Just then, a yelp of trumpets from the gallery announced the king’s arrival. At once the Great Hall grew quiet, and the courtiers, as if touched by magic, froze in the place where the sound had found them, their faces turned to the door.
Holding my breath until my lungs hurt, I watched as Father, in an incredible breach of protocol, left Mother’s side and advanced toward John. After saying some words to him I couldn’t hear, he walked back to Mother and proceeded to the center of the high table. John, still holding Rosa’s arm, followed him and took the seat to the king’s right.
To sit beside Father was an honor I was sure John didn’t appreciate—an honor I had never shared, and neither had Rosa before then. It took me a moment to understand that she did now, not because she was with John, but because she was engaged to a king.
“Andrea, why don’t you sit by Don Juan?” Margarida asked me as we took our places at the end of the table. “Aren’t you two . . .”
“Not exactly. Don Juan is only a friend.”
“But . . . I thought you brought Don Juan to introduce him to Father.” She paused for a moment and looked deep into my eyes. Then she smiled. “You wish he were more than friends, don’t you?”
I did not answer. I knew my burning face had already given me away.
John, after a brief talk with Father, turned again toward Rosa. My sister smiled and batted her eyelashes at him. I started to get up. Gently but firmly, Margarida held me down. “Please don’t let Rosa’s behavior bother you. You know her. She flirts as easily and thoughtlessly as she breathes. It doesn’t mean anything. Besides, to my regret, she’s engaged to be married.”
“Your regret? Why should you care that Rosa is engaged?”
“It’s . . . complicated. Listen, Andrea. There’s something I have to tell you. I’m tired of keeping it to myself.” My eyes on John, I was only half listening. “You see, I have also met my prince. I met him at the Spring Ball, the very night you went away. I was standing by the window alone, remembering how as children we used to spy on the ball from the oak tree, when I heard someone talking. I turned, and there he was: the most handsome man I have ever seen. He smiled at me and asked for a dance. We danced all night—”
“And when dawn was breaking, he disappeared in the east,” I finished for her, trying to keep calm while Rosa giggled with John.
“Andrea! It isn’t funny.”
“I’m sorry. I was . . . Please tell me what happened.”
“Over the following days, while the eligible Lords competed for Rosa’s hand, we met in secret. And when he asked for my hand, I gave him my word that I would marry him. But then, before he could ask Father’s consent, Don Julián won the contest, and Rosa surprised us all by accepting him. And well, now we can’t get married.”
“Why not?”
Margarida moved closer. “Because he is Don Alfonso de Alvar, Andrea. He is Don Julián’s brother . . .”
I gasped. Don Alfonso, my boring companion in the tree, my sister’s lover?
“. . . and Father is so furious that Rosa is marrying Don Julián, he will never agree to my marrying his brother.”
At the center of the table, his face almost touching hers, John was helping Rosa to some food. Her coy smile made me sick. John would never fall in love with me if Rosa chose to play with him. And knowing my sister, her interest in John would last for about a week, then she would turn her attention to somebody else. John, angry with her, would want to leave the castle. And Father would kill him for sure.
“And yet, I cannot give him up,” Margarida was saying. “I’ve tried, but I can’t.”
My eyes on John, I nodded. “I know, sister. I know exactly what you mean.” And to my despair, I did.
13
The Engagement
Over the following days, I introduced John to my world. Every morning we would leave at sunrise and ride for hours over the plains surrounding the castle. In the afternoon, Don Gonzalo, my former instructor, would teach John how to fight with a sword and shoot arrows at targets drawn on bales of hay, while I watched from one of the balconies on the first floor. I’d have loved to be down in the bailey with them, but I didn’t dare challenge my mother’s orders to behave like a lady. I needed her on my side when the time came to confront Father again and plead for John’s life.