ILONA
Winter 1466
Buda castle, Hungary
"You look more pleased than usual." Bernádett smiles while unlacing my bodice.
"It was an enjoyable New Year's party." My cheeks heat with the memory of dancing with Prince Vlad.
"A new year. A new husband."
"Oh...him." My grin dissolves like honey in hot water. "I hope della Scala's carriage slides off an icy bridge."
Bernádett's mouth drops open. "Don't tell your aunts that. Lady Erzsébet will be as angry as a he-goat and Lady Orsulya will make you pray the rosary until your knees bleed."
"I don't love della Scala, Bernádett. I don't want to move to Genoa. I cannot bear the thought of his sweaty body heaving on top of me."
"Then why are you smil—ah, you danced with Prince Vlad tonight, didn't you?" Bernádett shakes her head and tucks a loose strand of carrot-colored hair behind her ear.
I lift my chin. "I did."
"Dracula is promised to Margit, not you."
I puff out a grunt. "Prince Vlad is betrothed to no one."
"Does he make promises? Does he bring love tokens? Write letters?" Though her voice is gentle, her questions make me squirm.
"No." My gaze flicks to the only letter he wrote, still wedged in the mouse hole.
"My lady, did you ever think that Vlad Dracula might just be toying with your heart?" She slips the linen nightgown over my head.
"He is not that kind of man." I climb into bed and yank up the fur blanket.
Bernádett crosses the room and stokes the fire. "Did he ever try to kiss you?"
"No. Never." The lie tastes sour on my tongue.
"I didn't want to show you this but ..." With a furrowed brow, Bernádett pulls a folded bit of paper from her dress pocket. She holds it out.
I unfold the tract.
It is a gruesome drawing: A forest of naked bodies impaled through backs, bellies, and buttocks. Dismembered heads, arms, legs, feet, hands, and torsos strewn like offal before a bearded Vlad, who sits before a table laden with wine and food.
I throw it aside. "Why are you showing me this?"
"Thisis the real Dracula, not the charming man who seduces you." Bernádett taps the text at the bottom. "I cannot read, my lady. What does it say?"
I snatch up the paper, give it a good loud snap, and clear my throat. "This begins a tale of cruelty and evil concerning the crazy man Prince Dracula. It is a story of how he impales his own good people, skins them, roasts them, and hacks them to pieces like cabbage. He snatches babes from their mother's arms, hacks them to bits, and forces the mother to eat upon their own beloved children. These horrors are not to his enemies but are done to his own people."
Bernádett lowers her head and sighs. "This is the man you admire?"
"This..." I flick my fingers at the tract, "is slander invented by Matthias's councilors to justify Prince Vlad's imprisonment. Would Matthias give him a lavish chamber, his own squire, and servant if it were true? Would he attend royal dinners and dances? What sort of madman discusses Turkish invasions and holy crusades with diplomats?" I shake the paper at her. "Prince Vlad told me that this is how nobles deceive villagers who are fascinated by gruesome drawings and shocking stories. He saidpathos, an appeal to emotion, is used to manipulate the uneducated."
"Pathos?" Bernádett wrinkles her nose. "Dracula woos you with foreign words."
"He was schooled by the finest scholars in the world, better than any noble in this court."
"Education is a grand thing but there are other paths to wisdom. Mine is knowing that actions, not words, reveal a person's true nature."
I am about to rip up the tract when I have an idea. "I'll keep this." I'll need Aunt Erzsébet-like confidence if I hope to succeed. "Good night."
Bernádett extinguishes the lanterns and gets in her cot at the far side of the room.
I toss and turn. Two dreams disturb my sleep. The first is the feel of Vlad's gentle kiss through the handkerchief. The second is the tract's grisly illustration. Kisses and torture. Both send shivers down my spine. I cannot reconcile the two Vlads. One is flirtatious and sensual. The other, cold and sadistic.
#
I wear the blue dress with white flowers and lace. It's perfect for the daunting task ahead of me.
"My lady."
This task is of my own making, and yet I am compelled to do it. For him.
"My lady."
Perhaps it is naïve to think I can help, but I am determined to try anyway.
"My lady."
I blink.
"You seem distracted." Bernádett weaves a shimmering strand of seed pearls into my braids.
"I'm thinking about the upcoming wedding," I lie. Again. But this time it no longer tastes sour.
"I'm glad you've had a change of heart about della Scala."
"I am resigned to a loveless marriage." I arrange the lace draping from my sleeves.
Margit pokes her head through the doorway. "Busy?" She walks in and casts an approving eye at my new dress. "Are you wearing that when you sign the wedding contract?"
I shrug. This dress has a more important function.
"It's very pretty on you." Margit cocks her head and taps her chin. "You ought to sew della Scala a shirt to show your devotion. Shall I send twenty-yards of linen to you? That might be enough to cover his belly."
"Della Scala has an olderbrother who also needs a wife. Shall I tell Matthias to arrange a dual ceremony?" My lips coil into a sarcastic twist.
Margit pretends to gag. "My maidenhead is already promised to Prince Vlad Dracula."
"By the time Matthias pardons Prince Vlad your maidenhead will be as old and shriveled as Aunt Orsulya's." Chin up, I stride from the room.
"I will pray for your soul." Margit's retort echoes down the hall.
Margit's taunt doesn't bother me. Well, not too much. I have another soul in need of my assistance.
I enter the royal chambers after the guards announce my presence and find my unwitting target at his desk.
"Cousin, come forward." King Matthias sets his quill in the inkpot and smiles politely.
I kneel before him. "Your Highness."
"Arise, Lady Ilona." Matthias dismisses his advisors, opens his arms, and we kiss on both cheeks. "Let me guess, is this unexpected visit about your upcoming marriage to della Scala?"
"Quite the opposite." I slip the slanderous tract about Vlad from my sleeve. "My loyal servant gave me this."
Matthias casts a quick glance over it and scowls. "What of it?"
"I am afraid for Margit."
Matthias cocks his head. "Afraid forMargit or ofMargit? Because you certainly have no fear of Prince Vlad. In fact, you and he danced many times last night."
"I-I-I fear the tract's consequences." The art of scheming does not come naturally to me. My hands tremble and my voice, tight. "If everyone believes this slander then Margit's future match to Prince Vlad will be viewed unfavorably."
"I did not realize this was still in circulation." Matthias rubs his flaxen-stubbled chin and leans back in the chair. "Luigi della Scala arrives any day. Does this please you? Or did the Berserker of Wallachia steal your heart?"
"I..." I swallow, my throat dry with embarrassment.
"The time to default on the marriage agreement is long past." His rebuke is spiced with honey and vinegar.
I brave an innocent smile. "My only desire is that my family can be present at my marriage in Genoa."
"Your words are sweet to my ears, Cousin Ilona, unfortunately your eyes betray you."
I open my mouth to speak but King Matthias holds up his hand.
"Do not, sweet cousin, do anything rash between now and your wedding day. It will displease me and result in unpleasantness for Dracula."
"I would never do anything to dishonor you or Hungary." My voice is gilded with astonishment.
We hug goodbye and I depart, my heart lighter knowing my good deed is accomplished. Matthias is now aware that Dracula's reputation needs improving.
Feeling as crafty as Aunt Erzsébet, a smile swells my cheeks. What a pity I will never be a princess. I rather enjoy scheming.
Pushing Prince Vlad and our impossible love from my mind, I concentrate on more pressing matters—the ring ceremony, final fitting for my dress, and learning protocols from the Genoan envoy.
The Genoan wedding will be tedious. The contract must be signed, the ring ceremony performed, gifts exchanged, and my dowry transferred to his villa. All this must be done before I am considered lawfully wed.
"Ilona." Aunt Erzsébet waves from a cedar bench across the hallway. "I've been waiting for you." She pats the empty space beside her.
I sit, expect a discussion about wedding etiquette.
Aunt Erzsébet twists her green vesuvianite ring. "I have the most distressing news about your servant."
___________________________
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