Chapter 4

Around quarter to four that afternoon, a butler came into the library to tell Ginger that the king was inviting her to court that evening. Dinner was not going to be held in the regular dining hall, since a special event was being held in the ballroom instead. The king requested that Ginger wear one of the finer ball gowns in her closet, and to be in the ballroom precisely at five. Ginger thanked the butler and reluctantly left the library for her room.

When she got to her chamber, she found two maids already lying out a dress and preparing to fix Ginger's hair. The gown was a gorgeous copper satin in the latest fashion; off the shoulders with a bit of tulle edging the top. The skirt was full but not bulky, and Ginger put it on and spun around a bit with a grin on her face. She could tell the maids were suppressing giggles as she childishly clapped her hands.

As she looked at the clock, she realized it was only quarter after four, and she asked her maids if it could possibly take them forty-five minutes to fix her hair. The maids exchanged a glance, and then one stepped forward.

"Begging your pardon, ma'am, but if you'd like it in the latest fashion, we must start at once," she said with a blush.

Ginger almost laughed aloud, but she nodded and sat down in front of the vanity, trying to get as comfortable as possible in the spindly chair. It took both maids nearly half an hour to get her hair high up, braided, curled, and wrapped around in a sort of bun. Ginger felt her head would fall back, her hair was so heavy, but the end result was rather lovely. Ginger grinned into the mirror as the maids found a simple diamond necklace and bracelet to go with the dress, and finally at five to five, they nervously hurried her out of the room, telling her a shortcut to get to the ballroom. Hiking up her skirt, Ginger raced up several sets of stairs and snaked her way through a few blurred hallways, and then very suddenly, found herself in a second grand foyer of sorts. Ginger cocked an eyebrow; the king had definitely not taken her here on their tour. The foyer was packed with nobles, and although she was in the fanciest thing she had ever worn, Ginger suddenly felt a little underdressed. The other ladies' gowns were decked out in jewels, feathers, and embroidery.

Not knowing quite what to do, Ginger pretended to mill around with the others while trying to see what was going on. The party appeared to be waiting for a grand set of doors to open; her eyes traveled up a small red-carpeted staircase to the two mammoth white doors where two heralds stood at attention. The foyer itself had a cream marble floor, a glittering crystal chandelier, and several statues and paintings. Seeing as she knew absolutely no one, Ginger detached herself and went to look at the paintings, several of which bore inscriptions or little plaques.

"I'm so sorry, but are you a foreigner?"

Ginger jumped at the sound of a voice and she whirled around. A woman a little older than herself was looking at her quizzically; she was dressed in a very fine lavender gown, and wore diamonds the size of apples on her ears. She spoke to Ginger in a slow, coaxing sort of voice.

"Can you understand me?"

Ginger smiled. "Yes… and no, I'm not a foreigner. I'm from Cuira County."

The woman still looked puzzled, but in a different way. "Ah, of course, Cuira."

Ginger resented the way she said Cuira… as if it was something she would rather not think about.

"Well then… what are you doing in Ende? And at court?" the woman went on, speaking with such sweet, false kindness Ginger wanted to vomit.

"I've had business with the king. He invited me," Ginger replied, making sure her answer was as nebulous as possible.

"How lovely." The lady paused. "Oh, I'm so sorry; where are my manners? I'm Lady Alexandria, my father is the Marquis of Moriana," she said, naming a seaside, and very wealthy, county. Ginger smiled.

"My name is Ginger, and my father is a miller," she said, widening her smile at the look of horror on the lady's face. But Lady Alexandria quickly hid her reaction, and gracefully smiled.

"How lovely," she repeated. They stood in a tense silence for a moment or two, each surveying the other. Lady Alexandria had slightly sandy blonde hair with streaks of sun-bleached platinum. Her face and body were tanned, making her blue eyes sparkle and shine. She had a pretty face, but nothing extraordinary. Ginger could tell Alexandria was scrutinizing her as well, and she flashed a smile.

"The king took me for the most wonderful tour of the palace today," she said.

Lady Alexandria's eyes widened at once, and her mouth fell open a little.

"How… kind of him," she said in a choked voice.

"It's a very fascinating place. I hope I get to stay here for some time," Ginger went on, trying very hard not to laugh at the look of utmost shock on the lady's face. She wasn't even bothering to disguise it anymore, but continued to look at Ginger as if she grown another head.

They were spared from any more painful chitchat by the ringing of a bell. The entire court fell silent, and the doors opened. The king stepped out on to the top of the stairs, and everyone bowed.

"Thank you, thank you," he said. "Tonight, we celebrate the day we defeated the kingdom of Parfalia in the War of the Border. A small victory, perhaps, but any victory over Parfalia is a worthy victory!"

Everyone applauded. Ginger, however, stared around at the party, not one of whom seemed to share her incredulity that they were celebrating a five-day war that ended over seventy-five years ago and had been fought for a one-square mile piece of land. She loathed Parfalia just as much as the next person, but this seemed a bit ridiculous.

The king held his hands up and the clapping died down.

"So come, and let's celebrate!"

The applause resumed, and the court began to move forward and into the ballroom.

"Is this always celebrated?" Ginger asked Lady Alexandria.

"Oh yes, every year," Alexandria replied, as they were bustled along up the stairs.

Ginger was going to ask whether every single victory over Parfalia in the history of the kingdom was celebrated as well, but just then they entered the ballroom, and Ginger forgot the subject entirely. The ballroom was dazzling; a white marble floor, five sparkling chandeliers, two floors: the lower dance floor and the higher veranda, tables and tables of food, hundreds and hundreds of flowers… it was almost too much to take in. At the end of the room stood the king's throne, and next to that stood a platform on which sat a cannon.

"What is that cannon doing here?" Ginger asked Alexandria, following her to a table.

Ginger knew very well that Alexandria was trying to shake her off, but the lady replied politely anyhow.

"That was the cannon used in the war that killed the Parfalian king's highest general," she said in a patronizing voice.

Ginger nodded and sat down next to Alexandria, who rolled her eyes very noticeably but didn't protest. An orchestra had already begun to play, and a few couples were out dancing on the floor, but most were lining along the buffet-style tables, loading their plates. A few young ladies joined Ginger and Alexandria, the latter of whom reluctantly introduced Ginger to the others. Although they reacted with the same alarm to her parentage and home, they smiled and attempted to let her join the conversation. Ginger wasn't fooled, and wasn't exactly keen on talking about gossip and fashion, either, so she stood and went to get something to eat.

As she stood in the long line, pretending to inspect the artwork on the walls while the nobles around her whispered and pointed at her, Ginger found herself sneaking glances out the window, willing the sun to set. Today the king might not even have to tell her to go back to her room; she'd probably just go herself, to be rid of this rather insufferable company. Why did he even invite her to these things? She watched him talking with some men in military uniforms. He completely baffled her… she knew he was greedy, callous, and utterly spineless, but now that she thought on it, his father had been nothing of the sort. In fact, his father, the previous king, had been wonderful… low taxes, an easing of tensions with Parfalia, a growth in education… She wondered why his son was so very different, and why others weren't wondering the same thing. From what she knew, King Alfred, the father, had been very generous with the nobility, to keep their loyalty. King Terrence, the current king and Ginger's object of scrutiny, was probably not half so generous, yet here they were, all sorts of lords and ladies, simpering over his every word.

A loud cough behind her snapped her out her reverie, and she realized the line had moved considerably. She muttered a quick "sorry" and moved up, keeping her eyes on the king. He smiled very little, but seemed to listen intently and be genuinely interested. She wondered if he would smile tomorrow morning when he saw the piles and piles of gold; she grinned suddenly, just picturing the look on his face: one of shock and utter glee. It would be enough gold to last him practically the rest of his life… she thought about whether he would just send her home, or keep her in Ende, elevate her to aristocracy… Lady Ginger – it had a nice ring to it. She could buy her father's mill, update it with current technology, and make sure it stayed open. She could refurnish the cottage, or buy her father a new home if he wanted. She'd buy a townhouse and attend the university… then she'd travel, see the entire kingdom; the ocean, the deserts, the mountains, everything.

Piling her plate with food, she returned to Lady Alexandria's table and began to eat, noticing the sky was beginning to slightly darken. She ate quickly, earning herself disdainful and disgusted stares from the young ladies at the table. Otherwise they ignored her, pointing out a few young men they were hoping would ask them to dance. They finally got their wish, as a few handsome young men made their way to the table and whisked the girls away to the dance floor.

Placing her napkin on the table, Ginger stood and looked out the window. The sky was streaked with purple and orange; the sun was setting. She decided she might as well leave now, as there wasn't anything else for her to do now that she had eaten. She stood on her tiptoes, looking above the crowd for the king, to tell him she was leaving. She soon found him standing at a table across the dance floor from her, just as he was finishing a conversation. He straightened, and was about to move on to the next table when his eyes fell on Ginger. She pointed to the door, mouthing "I'm going to go," to him. His eyes looked out a window, and then flashed in excitement. He nodded to her, and then moved away.

Ginger hurried out of the ballroom, and then took her time winding back to her chamber. She whistled a tune her father used to sing on the first day of spring, a happy, cheerful song that had always lifted her spirits. She paused in front of her door, wondering if the little man was already there, spinning away. She opened the door, and sure enough, the soft sound of the whirring spinning wheel could be heard through the straw room door. She fingered the ring on her finger; the ring she had promised she'd give to her little savior. Somehow, it didn't seem like enough, for she truly owed her life to him, but it had been what he had requested. It really was a beautiful ring, and probably worth more money than she could ever dream of.

Ginger slipped off the elegant ball gown and changed into her simple night shift. Taking down her hair took an extraordinary amount of patience, but it eventually came tumbling down her back, curly and wavy and rather messy. She kept the ring on her finger as she crawled into the bed, reaching for a book. Turning the gas lamp down low, she sat comfortably amongst the pillows and pondered the sparkling emerald ring. What must it be like, she thought, to be able to throw jewels around without a care in the world. She smiled to herself; perhaps she would know some day.

How long she read, she couldn't know, for after awhile, the soothing whirring of the spinning wheel lulled her into a dreamless, restful sleep

"My lady. My lady, awaken."

Ginger heard the low, silky voice as if from very faraway. She wanted to tell it to go away, she was still sleeping, but it persisted. After several moments, as if the voice was willing her to wake up, her eyes fluttered open quite on their own.

She lay awkwardly amongst the pillows, her book lying on her chest. It took her few moments to realize she was awake, and she brushed a few strands of hair out of her face to see the little man standing beside her bed. The sky outside was still dark, and the clock on her wall chimed five o'clock in the morning.

"I apologize for waking you, my lady," the man said, bowing low before her, "but I must leave before dawn."

"Oh," Ginger murmured, clearing her throat. "Of course," she said, sitting up.

"No, no, my lady, please lie back down," he insisted, his voice smooth and calming. She did as he said, completely entranced in her groggy state.

"I only desire to fulfill our bargain, my lady," he said.

"Of course," Ginger repeated, his voice so trustworthy, and instinctively she slid the ring off her finger. She gazed at its perfection one last time, and then handed it to him. He took it eagerly in his hands, inspecting it, and then putting it in an inside pocket.

"I am very grateful, lady," he said, bowing low, and then suddenly in a blink, he was gone.

Ginger sat up straight, her spellbound grogginess suddenly gone, straining her eyes through the darkness. She stretched out a hand, searching for him, but he had actually vanished. She fell back onto the pillows, amazed and thoroughly unsettled. She had never really given any thought as to what kind of creature this … man, if he was one, was. Was he a sorcerer of some kind? She had heard of magicians and witches who lived in the west, near the swamplands. Fairy tribes lived in the mountains, and there was a very dangerous enchanted wood in the south, near the sea. Most magical people were extremely dangerous, and were not to be trusted… or so the people of Aurelia were told. Relations with them were strictly forbidden, and Ginger immediately felt very, almost painfully, aware of her thoughtlessness. The direness of her situation, her absolute desperation, had made her blind. She still could be in a very perilous situation; what if it was found out that she hadn't spun the gold, and that she had made a bargain with some mysterious, magical creature? What if the little man was running to the king right now, to tell on her? She had trusted him without giving it a moment's thought! Stupid, Ginger! she cursed herself. How could she have been so foolish?

She leaped out of bed and threw the door to the straw room open. Lighting a lamp, the room blazed to life, nearly blinding her. The gold was brilliantly shiny and sparkling, dazzling her sensitive eyes. The room was chock full of it; not one speck of straw was to be found. She breathed a partial sigh of relief. At least the little man had kept his word on this score.

She walked barefoot among the piles of gold, glittering and beautiful. The thread was strong, but thin, and very soft. She grinned happily despite herself; perhaps even if the king did find out she hadn't spun the gold, he'd be so enchanted with it he wouldn't care.

She didn't note how long she spent wandering in wonder of the gold, but suddenly she noticed through the open door that the sun had begun to come up. Reluctantly she decided she should get dressed before the king arrived, and with one last longing touch, she left the gold and closed the door.

But no sooner had she done so than her door burst open with a resounding bang. Ginger gasped, checking her shift to make sure she was decent, as the king, fully dressed and accompanied by no less than five guards, strode into the room.

"Lights," he commanded, and the guards immediately broke formation and lit the several lamps in the room.

"Good morning, sire," Ginger said, sinking into a curtsy.

He nodded. "We shall see if it is or not," he said, eyeing her night shift with a mischievous smirk. "Did you get some sleep?" he asked suspiciously, looking over at her clearly slept-in bed.

"Yes, a very little," she lied, her stomach slowly unclenching. If her magical man had told on her, the king would have had her in shackles by now.

"I finished about an hour ago," she said, trying to subtly comb her hair.

"Excellent," the king said. "Well?" he questioned, indicating the door.

"Oh! Right. Here you are, your majesty," she said with as charming a smile as she could muster this early in the morning. She went to the door, and with a deep breath, opened it.

Immediately, the king's eyes opened wide, the light of the gold reflected in their steely blue depths. His mouth opened very slightly, and then curled into a devilish grin. He strode into the room, reaching out to touch the nearest pile of gold. He picked out a strand, testing its strength. Holding it in his hands, he looked around, seemingly for any trace of straw. When he found none, he turned back to Ginger, who was grinning like a little schoolgirl.

"Amazing," he proclaimed. "Absolutely amazing."

"Perhaps you would like me to take some to the textile mill?" she asked with a sly smile, remembering his words at their first meeting. His eyes clouded, remembering his words, as well.

"No, no," he said casually. "I think I shall keep all this for myself."

"Whatever you wish, your majesty," Ginger said.

"But I would like the mills to have some. You shall make more, for them to have."

"Your majesty?" Ginger asked, shocked. More?

"Yes, I think perhaps an even bigger room, so we can send some to other mills, as well. Yes, I shall take down that wall and make the room larger."

"Tonight, your majesty?" Ginger sputtered. The king turned to her with a suspicious shine in his eye; Ginger mentally kicked herself and forced her gaping mouth into a suave smile.

"Because I am so dreadfully tired from these past two nights. I worked so hard, to make sure the gold pleased you," she said, walking toward him and casually brushing her hair over one shoulder.

The king seemed at a loss for words for a moment, but then shook his head very quickly.

"No, of course not, not tonight. It will take a few days to take down the wall, and acquire enough straw. Besides," he went on, taking a few steps toward her so that they very close, "I must show you off."

She smiled. "As you wish, your majesty," she said softly.

A/N : Wow, that was an incredibly depressing two and half months. I cannot believe how long it has been since I've written! I am now at the point of actually counting down the days left until May 25, which is when I can leave high school forever.

Anyway, I am so sorry, guys. I hope (hoping, hoping, hoping) that I'll be able to update more often from now on. My second semester is a lot of work, but it's pretty easy and goes quickly. Any help as far as editing goes will be greatly appreciated.

So please review and let me know you haven't abandoned me! That would make me even more depressed, which would be very dangerous indeed.

Love, luck, and flying Ringwraiths,

Emma the NazgulQueen