chapter 2 A Royal Beginning?
Miranda checked her work for the last time, making sure the pair of shoes were perfect. These shoes were for her most important client yet, the king of Enchancia himself. After making sure every stitch was in place, she carefully placed the shoes in a velvet-lined box, slipping the lid over the top. This was it. The moment had come to leave to see the king, and it was a moment that could boost her cobbler business… or completely ruin it.
"Sofia?" Miranda called. "Are you ready? We have a long walk."
"Coming, Mom!" Sofia called from the back of the store.
Miranda checked her appearance in the small mirror. She had very few cosmetics, but this was an important meeting. She had stained her lips a rosy red and added blush to the apples of her cheeks. Her blue eyes raked over her fair face before she nodded in satisfaction. This was the best she could do.
"Ready, Mom," Sofia said.
Miranda turned to see her beautiful daughter standing in her purple dress, which was her good dress. The other was blue, which brought out the color of her own blue eyes, but it was getting shabbier every day. Miranda hoped for a boost in business so that she could pay the tailor to make a new dress for her daughter. She was growing at a fantastic rate, and though Miranda could make new shoes whenever Sofia needed them, she couldn't tailor clothes fast enough to keep her business running and clothe her daughter.
Miranda gingerly picked up the box and held it out to Sofia. "Alright, Sofia. Let's go. Carry these, but please be careful. We want the king to be pleased with our shoes."
"Yes, Mom," Sofia said. She took the box with great care, slipped it under one arm, then took her mother's hand.
They began the long walk to the castle. It was both a relief and a stressor. Miranda loved to walk in the peaceful mornings, and the fresh air outside the village was refreshingly absent of oil and leather. But the castle loomed in front of them, reminding her of all she had to gain or lose from this one client.
Miranda had been shocked when a tall, thin, well-dressed man walked into her store the week before with a scroll in his hand. He'd introduced himself as Baileywick, the castle steward of Enchancia, and had spoken at length that the castle cobbler was very ill and couldn't make a new pair of riding shoes for the king. Baileywick explained that Miranda had the best reputation in Dunwiddie for making shoes, and would she be so kind as to make a pair of riding shoes for the king? Miranda, startled and weak-kneed, had grasped the counter and nodded. The scroll was handed over with the king's measurements, and that was that.
This pair of shoes had been studiously measured and remeasured, each stitch carefully placed and perfectly spaced. The soles were the softest, the leather the finest she could procure. All for the king of her country. As they strolled across the bridge, Sofia's eyes were wide as she stared up at the castle. She had never been so close, and Miranda saw wonder and fear in her bright eyes. She squeezed her daughter's hand and smiled at her.
"It's so big," Sofia whispered.
Miranda chuckled. "Fit for a king."
They walked up to the gate, and a fine-looking guard stopped them with an upraised hand.
"State your business, ma'am," he said. He was stern, but not unkind.
"I am Miranda Balthazar, sir. I was commissioned to make a pair of riding shoes for King Roland."
Sofia took her hand from her mother's and held out the box. Miranda opened it and showed the guard the shoes. He appraised them and smiled.
"They look fine, madam. I was told of your arrival by Baileywick. Please go in."
Miranda placed the lid back on the box, and Sofia tucked it under her arm again as the guard motioned for the gate to be opened. The guard gave them directions to the throne room, and they headed through the courtyard. A beautiful stone driveway circled a fountain, which sent a spray of water high into the air. It glinted in the sunlight like diamonds, and the garden in front of the castle was full of fragrant blossoms of every shape, size, and color. The grass was well-tended and colored a deep, rich green, which accentuated the bright exterior of the palace. They walked up the big steps, and Sofia reached over to grip her mother's hand again. Miranda held it tightly as a pair of servants pulled open the enormous doors and bowed them in.
Sofia gasped as the interior of the castle was revealed, and even Miranda caught her breath. Two curving staircases framed a hallway that stretched far into the castle. The stairs went up to a second floor and were made of marble. The handrails were elegant wood, painted white and gold, that curled in a graceful arc up the sides of the stairs. They stood there for a moment in the largest room they had ever been in and gawked as the realization that this was only the entrance hall hit them. It was almost ten times bigger than their shop/home.
"Ah, Miranda," a low, pleasant voice said. "You've finished the riding shoes?"
Miranda blinked and shook her head, a dark flush creeping up her neck. How rude she was, gaping around the room. Sofia could do so, as she was so young, but Miranda was a grown woman. It was unbecoming to gape and gawk. She blinked and turned to see Baileywick coming from another hallway. She curtsied, and Sofia looked at Baileywick with frightened eyes. The girl curtsied, too, but it was hurried and awkward, and she quickly hid behind her mother's skirts.
"Hello, sir. I have finished the shoes."
Baileywick chuckled. "No need to be so formal, my dear. I'm only the steward." He looked around. "It is impressive, especially compared to the village. I've been here for so long that the grandeur is normal for me."
Miranda let out a long breath. He wasn't shaming her for her wonder. That was good.
Baileywick turned to her again. "I shall inform King Roland that you are here. Please wait. Do you need refreshments?"
Miranda hesitated. "Some water would be nice. It was a long walk. But we don't want to impose."
"Nonsense," Baileywick said, waving his hand dismissively. He called a servant girl over. "Please get some water for Miranda and her daughter."
"Yes, sir," the servant said, bowing and hurrying away.
Baileywick left to tell the king, and Miranda and Sofia were brought ice water in two crystal cups. They sipped it, and Sofia's eyes sparkled.
"They have ice, Mom!" she whispered. "And it's not even winter!"
"It's very nice," Miranda agreed.
When Baileywick returned, he said that King Roland was waiting to try on his shoes in the throne room. Miranda and Sofia set aside their cups and smoothed their dresses. Then Sofia picked up the box and grasped her mother's hand again. Miranda had told her to be quiet unless spoken to, and to be respectful to every single person they met, but especially the king. She was to keep her eyes down and to stay with Miranda at all times. Miranda squeezed her hand again and followed Baileywick.
The throne room was enormous, and the king sat on a raised platform in an oak throne with blue cushions. He had his shoes set aside, and Miranda swallowed as they made their way across the room. The trip across the large room, with several nobles' eyes upon them, seemed to take an eternity. When she got to the foot of his throne, she dropped into a low curtsy. Sofia awkwardly followed.
"Your majesty," Miranda said respectfully.
"You're the one who made my shoes?"
Roland sounded surprised, and Miranda's heart thundered in her ears. She was the only female cobbler in the village, so she wasn't unprepared for the skepticism.
"Yes, your majesty."
"Hm," he said quietly.
He stretched out his foot, and Miranda knelt and gestured for the shoes. Sofia got on her knees, gently setting the box down and pulling off the lid. She took one of the shoes and handed it to Miranda. Miranda forced herself to calmly reach forward and slide the shoe on his foot. She made sure it was secure, then sat back. King Roland stood up and took a step. He flexed his foot in the leather then sat down again.
"Perfect fit," he said softly.
The tone of his voice made Miranda's heart leap. He liked her shoes! She looked up, ready to thank him profusely for the rare opportunity, for his kindness, for the chance to please him, but the words died in her throat. Roland's gaze held something tender, something wild, something Miranda hadn't seen since Birk had died. All the breath left her, and she forgot her advice and stared back at the king, unable to move or speak. The silence stretched on, and her face grew warm, but still, she didn't move.
"Perfect fit," he said again. He sat back and stared at Miranda thoughtfully. "How would you and your daughter like to stay for lunch?"
Miranda blinked, coming back to herself. She lowered her gaze. "If it would please the king."
King Roland nodded. "Baileywick? Inform the chef."
"Yes, your majesty," the steward said, then hurried from the room.
King Roland held out his hand, and Miranda shyly took it. He helped her stand. "Unfortunately, Amber and James are at school. It will just be the three of us."
Miranda nodded. Sofia stood and looked between her mother and the king. Something was going on, but she didn't understand it. The girl picked up the box and held it out. King Roland took the box and smiled at her, but Sofia shied behind her mother again.
Baileywick came into the room and announced that lunch was ready. King Roland put on his other riding shoe then held out his arm. Miranda was shocked, but she linked her arm in his and followed him to a small parlor. It was beautiful, but Miranda only had eyes for the king.
He was tall and handsome, with golden-brown hair and rich brown eyes that sparkled. His face was animated, and he had eyes only for her. She knew that she was dreaming. This could never happen to her. Nobody had noticed her since Birk, and Roland was a king. What could he see in her?
King Roland made her a large plate of food. It was a roasted chicken, the skin golden and crackling as he cut into it. Miranda's mouth began to water. She was so very hungry, and this was the finest food she had ever seen. Miranda took the plate, and Roland made Sofia another plate. He was serving them. The king of Enchancia was serving them. Miranda ate with relish, the flavors exploding on her tongue. King Roland fixed himself a plate then went to sit beside her.
Miranda flushed at his intense gaze. "You are too kind, your highness," she murmured between bites.
"Nonsense," he said. "Do you like the food? Andre is one of the finest chefs I've ever had."
"It is perfect, your majesty."
"Call me Roland," the king said.
"Yes, your maj—" She stopped herself. "Yes… Roland."
She didn't know what else to say. She wasn't qualified to say anything in front of a king, let alone her king. Sofia ate ravenously, looking around curiously. Roland followed Miranda's gaze.
"What's her name?"
Miranda smiled. That was something she was comfortable talking about. "Sofia."
"And you are Miranda?"
Miranda flushed. "Yes."
"Your husband is a lucky man."
Miranda knew he was probing, but she had no reason to lie. "My husband died at sea three years ago."
Roland pursed his lips. "My condolences. My wife died nine years ago. Complications from birthing twins."
"I'm so sorry," Miranda said, though she had already known that.
Roland continued to watch her as she finished the large helping of food. It was the best she'd ever tasted. Roland seemed content to just sit with her. Occasionally he watched Sofia, who had finished and was eyeing the chicken again.
"If you're still hungry, by all means, have some more," Roland said kindly.
Sofia hesitated, glancing at her mother. Miranda nodded her encouragement, and Sofia cut more of the juicy white meat and began to eat again. When they had finished, Roland stood up.
"Unfortunately, I have a meeting with a duke," he said and sounded as if he truly regretted that. "But I would like to know if you would like to come to the castle and watch the acrobats then join me for dinner tomorrow, Miranda."
Miranda almost shivered. The way Roland said her name, almost a purr, made her heart flutter. She couldn't help a shy smile.
"If it pleases the king," she repeated.
"Only if it also pleases you," Roland replied playfully.
Miranda hesitated then looked up. "It does," she said softly. Then she curtsied. "If that is all, I must get back to my shop, Roland."
She said the name with hesitation. But it made the king smile, his brown eyes dancing. "That is all. For now."
The promise made her heart sing. "Come along, Sofia," Miranda said. "Thank you," she said to the king.
He bowed. "Thank you. I now have beautiful shoes made by a beautiful woman."
Miranda flushed, but she smiled as she followed Baileywick through the maze of hallways to the front door. He looked at her curiously. She hesitated before leaving.
"Is he always like that?" she asked quietly.
"Not since Queen Ambrette died," Baileywick said solemnly.
Miranda was surprised, but she nodded and walked down the steps. She couldn't believe what had happened. King Roland had liked her shoes. That was what she had been dreaming of for a week. But it also seemed that he liked her, which was shocking. She was only a cobbler, a commoner. But when he looked at her, she felt like so much more. Not a queen, exactly, but more than a commoner. She took a deep breath of the fresh air and smiled. She had an event to attend with the king of Enchancia. He had invited her. And it made her feel ten years younger. She walked with a skip in her step back to her humble shop.