Two weeks into December, Mally awoke to such a blizzard that she and the rest of the inhabitants of Bosc were barricaded indoors. But even after a day and a half of constant shoveling, Mally’s spirits could not be dampened. Christmas was in the air.

The city seemed to have been decorated overnight. Bows and garlands covered the shops, houses, and lamp posts. Wreaths with berries hung on every door and gate, and no one could walk over a threshold without the threat of mistletoe. Bosc looked like a winter wonderland with the castle as its iced centerpiece.

Inside the castle, Mally and Lita could barely function thanks to the scrumptious smells of cranberry-glazed turkey, gingerbread, and chocolate pecan tarts wafting through the corridors from Archie’s kitchen. Indeed, Archie seemed to spend more time shooing away knights and servants alike, armed with a wooden spoon, than cooking.

Along with the several feet of snow, December also brought the traditional Winter Ball. Mally had heard talk of it before in Blighten—about its splendor and extravagance—but Lita told her not to get overexcited.

“The Winter Ball means four times the work,” she said dryly over breakfast. “Who do you think gets the castle looking so amazing? Plus, we have to tend to all the fireplaces because the guests stay for a few days before and after.”

“Who comes?” asked Mally. “I didn’t think people looked forward to stepping into the castle.”

Lita snorted.

“Do you think any of them would have the guts to tell the king ‘No’?”

Betty leaned over Christopher and said, “The upper class is who’s invited. All over Lenzar. Some of them put up a good front—pretend not to mind being surrounded by knights. Act like they’re good old chums.”

“Others are as shaky as a leaf in a high breeze,” Lita added.

.

Even though the Winter Ball was scheduled to begin the last week of December, preparations began weeks before. The entire castle was scrubbed from top to bottom and Mally feared that her hands would forever look like prunes from the constant mopping. Cushions were aired and fluffed, sheets and pillowcases washed, jewels polished, floors waxed, garden paths shoveled free of snow, stables cleaned. Mally couldn’t keep all the work in her head. In addition to her regular chores, she was supposed to be buffing all the statues on the third floor corridor, while also retrieving carrots from the covered vegetable patch for Archie’s stew at the same time. After she exploded to Lita about the insanity of it all, Lita informed her quite calmly not to fret.

“If Archie needs carrots so badly, he can get Rosa to pick them or go out himself, the lazy lump.”

Fireplaces were cleaned of ashes and reloaded, the high arching windows were washed, even the imposing glass chandelier that hung in the great hall was rubbed till it gleamed, much to the danger of the five servants on the tip-tops of ladders, with ropes tied around their stomachs in case they fell. Lita was so horrified by the proceedings that she had to leave the great hall and Mally didn’t see her again for at least three hours. Sam was needed along with a dozen other horses to pull fifteen Christmas trees to the castle. Two were placed on either side of the huge staircase in the great hall while the other twelve filled the ballroom. They towered over fifteen feet and it took Mally and a dozen others over two weeks to decorate them all with thousands of sparkling ornaments and baubles.

Mildred hummed carols under her breath as she placed wreaths adorned with red and blue berries and satin bows on the front doors. Mally had even spotted Evelyn with a small stem of holly in her hair. And Nanette helped Mally weave ribbons and garlands around the banisters.

With the frenzy of cleaning and Lita nearly poisoning herself, Mally had let her rebel job of questioning the servants slide. But as she and Nanette draped giant satin bows over the windows, Mally had a sudden burst of inspiration.

As she tugged her ribbon into place she said, “I wonder what the Winter Ball looked like during King Sebastian’s time.”

Nanette dropped her bundle of ribbon and it unwound across the floor. She seemed quite startled and quickly looked around her, to see if a knight was near.

“Don’t go blurting out his name!” she hissed. “Do you want to spend the winter in the dungeons?”

She looked very flustered and Mally waited for her to regain her composure.

“Sorry,” Mally apologized.

“You should be,” Nanette said fiercely, picking up her ribbon. “That’s downright reckless.”

“But was it different? The Winter Ball, I mean?” Mally pressed.

Nanette’s lips were pursed tightly, but Mally saw the corners of her mouth tug upward.

“A bit,” said Nanette.

“A bit?” Mally repeated, unbelieving. “It must have been completely different! For starters, I bet the guests weren’t intimidated into coming.”

“No. No, they weren’t,” Nanette conceded. “And there were many more of them.”

“And I bet the servants got more appreciation for all this work,” Mally went on.

Nanette grinned.

“I’m not too sure about that. Cayla—Cayla Black, I mean—was always trying to convince Meriyal that we should get the week off following the ball.”

Mally turned to Nanette.

“Oh, that’s right. You were friends with Cayla Black. I heard she was the princess’s maid. You must have spent a lot of time with the princess if you were so close to Cayla.”

Mally had hit the nail on the head, for Nanette went as stiff as wood at the mention of the princess.

“Yes … yes, I suppose I did,” Nanette said guardedly.

“So you must have seen the fever symptoms,” Mally continued, hoping that Nanette would rebuke the story of the princess’s death, as Gladys had.

Nanette swallowed and stared at Mally for the longest of seconds before abruptly gathering up the ribbon and saying crisply, “We need to get these up before teatime. Hurry up, Mally.”

Mally felt herself deflate as she watched Nanette march down the corridor. She knew something, Mally thought to herself. But unlike Gladys, Nanette seemed to have a harder shell to crack.

.

After that awkward conversation, Nanette had her guard up around Mally. If they were suddenly alone together, she would think of something to do and rush off. It didn’t seem likely that Mally would get any information from Nanette anytime soon. Perhaps if she let Nanette relax, then she would be able to try again.

Even though Mally was exhausted, and could barely move once she’d collapsed in a chair, she couldn’t help smiling widely as the holiday excitement rushed through the corridors. She didn’t even mind Bayard’s intimidating sneers.

Often when Lita and Mally had a break—or, more accurately—managed to escape from their duties, they had a mug of steaming apple cider or almond toffee and cookies in Archie’s kitchen. Archie was so fond of Mally that he allowed her to have the very first sample of the highly prized Christmas wheat, an honor, Lita assured her, that had not been bestowed even on the king.

Soon the ball was only a week away and last minute touches were in order, but many of the servants stopped and reveled in the splendor of the castle. It glistened. It sparkled. Mally had never seen anything more beautiful. Even the servants had been given new attire for the occasion: skirts, pants, and shirts without patches or soup stains.

It had become somewhat of a tradition for Mally, Lita, Gerda, and Rosa (and whoever else wished to join them) to gather in the kitchen late at night to sing carols and roast all sorts of sweets over the fire. At first Archie grumbled over his kitchen being used as a gathering spot for such frivolity, but after a mug of almond toffee with a splash of good whiskey, he was soon singing louder than anyone.

Three days before the ball, the servants’ spirits seemed even more merry. When Mally asked Lita why there was such giddiness, Lita replied, “Tonight’s our night off. We all go down to the Lone Candle and have dinner. We take over the place.”

“And the knights approve?” Mally asked skeptically. No one serving the knights dinner? No one lugging up wood for their fires?

Lita laughed.

“Of course not. Molick always gets livid about it. He hates eating outside of the castle. But King Salir insists, so we get our night off.”

Mally thought that was odd, but she had to confess that she still didn’t know quite what to think of the king. He seemed so peripheral. It was Molick who the servants were hiding the passages from. It was Molick who was frantically sniffing out the rebels like a bloodhound. It was Molick who ordered the knights around. It was Molick who believed that Bosc Castle was his. And King Salir hadn’t raised a finger to stop him.

King Salir wasn’t the strongest of men. It seemed to Mally that he knew quite clearly that his title was nothing more than a title, and that he was not interested in risking his life to try to reel Molick in. But did that mean King Salir was just as bad as Molick? Was standing to one side and pretending nothing horrible was happening just as terrible as what Molick was doing?

But he wasn’t a complete coward. He wasn’t helping Molick find the rebels. He wasn’t ordering the servants to show him the servant passages. Instead, he gave his servants a needed night off. He was charming and polite. He had even gone so far as to demand the servants’ safety. And Mally had not forgotten the fact that he had saved her life.

.

Later that evening, when the servants would usually be serving the knights and loading their fireplaces with wood, Mally and the others pulled on heavy cloaks and walked out into the crisp December night. A gentle snow was falling and Mally found herself grinning stupidly at Lita who grinned stupidly back.

The Lone Candle was filled to the brim with people, most of whom were the castle’s servants. Lita hadn’t been kidding when she said they took over the place. Mally had never seen the servants with so much life in their eyes as they laughed and danced to the festive music. The Lone Candle looked like its soul had returned. Heavy streamers draped from the ceiling in great swooping arks and one giant wreath hung on the far wall, its glass balls glinting red and gold in the dancing candlelight. Mally began searching the crowded room for Galen or Ivan and when she heard Galen’s ringing laugh, Mally bade Lita a momentary good-bye and hurried to the bar.

“Merry Christmas,” Mally said warmly as Galen passed Nathan and Gerda two pints.

“Merry Christmas,” Galen replied, grinning widely. “Give me a hand?” he asked, indicating the door behind the bar.

“Sure.” Mally left the crowded room, whose inhabitants were becoming louder and louder, and followed Galen into the kitchen. “Is Ivan coming tonight?”

“I doubt it,” said Galen, suddenly smiling roguishly. “Coletta came yesterday.”

“Coletta’s here?” Mally asked.

Galen laughed again and Mally found herself smiling ridiculously as the sound washed over her. It really was infectious. “She sure is. I think Ivan’s been in denial. But neither Coletta nor his mother are going to give up.”

Mally was surprised that the news of Coletta’s visit wasn’t causing her chest to clench in jealously. It had when she had first heard of Coletta, but now, she felt nothing. She had to admit that she had been attracted—or maybe infatuated—with Ivan. She had certainly never met anyone as dashing or handsome in Blighten. But now, he seemed more like an annoying older brother than anything else.

“Hold this for me,” said Galen.

Mally picked up a wide tray and held it out as he loaded it down with cookies. Then without warning, Galen leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. It took a full second before Mally realized what he’d done, and then she blushed hot red. Galen, just as flushed, looked like he couldn’t believe he’d had the nerve and stood tense as a rod, as if expecting her to lash out at him. But then, awkwardly, Mally smiled.

Relief flooded Galen’s face and with shy giggles and shuffling feet, they carried the trays into the bar.

.

.

It was the night before the start of the Winter Ball and Mally was once more in Archie’s shimmering kitchen. It was nearing midnight, but the festivities had not yet died down. Archie and Jack Arrington had just started another booming round of “O Come All Ye Faithful.” Mally smiled slightly but mostly she sat in her chair against the wall, slowly drinking her hot chocolate. She was still replaying her evening with Galen. They had been too embarrassed to do much but laugh and blush. She’d told Lita on the way back to the castle and Lita had roared with laughter. Gerda took a lesson from Mally and finally threw a pillow at Lita as they got ready for bed.

Mally bit her lip as she grinned at her hot chocolate. Try as she might, she couldn’t keep herself from smiling like a fool. Meriyal sat beside her, a bottle of apricot cordial at her elbow.

“Are you sure you don’t want any?” Meriyal asked Mally for the fifth time, indicating the cordial.

Mally shook her head and dunked another hazelnut cookie in her hot chocolate. Meriyal shrugged and splashed some more of the amber liquid into her glass.

Mally turned away from Meriyal and her lips curved into a small smile. In the opposite corner, Nathan and Gerda sat close together, talking to each other quietly. She and Lita had begun to suspect over the last few weeks that there was something more than friendship between those two. Mally personally felt they were perfect for each other, and she couldn’t think of a better time for them to come to that realization than Christmas.

Mally once again gazed into her mug. Even with her stomach making odd leaps at the thought of Galen, the night felt bittersweet. It was weirdly difficult for her to celebrate tonight. Wrong somehow. Tonight was the night the last of the Kellen Royal Family died. The night Salir Romore had informed the servants that Princess Avona was dead.

Once night had fallen and dinner was finished, once the knights had left for their own chambers and sitting rooms, Mally and the other servants silently, quietly made their way to the north tower … the tower with the clearest view of Bosc. They blew out the candles in the small round tower and stood staring out the high windows. At first Mally couldn’t see anything of the city. It was well past curfew and there were no lamps shining their light. She could not make out the buildings or even the Bell Tower. But after standing there for five minutes in silence, her eyes adjusting, Christopher suddenly exclaimed, “There!”

There was a hurried scuffling as they all tried to see where Christopher was pointing and Mally saw it. A tiny, yellow light issued from what must have been a window in the city.

“And there!” Betty pointed.

Mally watched, her chest filling with an emotional glow, as candles suddenly burst into flame throughout the city, like fireflies or stars. They stood there in that dark tower, crowded and silent, watching the people wordlessly remembering their king. Their queen. Their princess.

Meriyal suddenly moved forward and Mally took a step back from the window to give her room. As if undergoing a ritual, Meriyal placed a short candelabra on the windowsill. Evelyn handed her three candles. With care, Meriyal placed them in their holders and struck a match. Their bright light burned Mally’s eyes, but she forced herself not to look away. She had stood there for a long time, watching the candles burn…

.

“Hebitha will surely have that dratted cat.”

Mally glanced sideways at Meriyal, her memory of that moment in the tower still fresh. From the tower, the servants had traveled back through the castle to Archie’s kitchen to celebrate.

Meriyal had her back to Mally, speaking to Nanette.

“There will be fur all over the couches,” Meriyal continued with a little hiccup. “I’ll be sneezing for weeks. But Cayla will be back! Lord, I’ve missed that girl.”

Mally’s interest sparked at the mention of Princess Avona’s personal maid, and she turned fully toward Meriyal and Nanette. Mally had yet mastered enough courage to ask Meriyal about those events. Maybe she and Nanette would reveal something tonight.

Nanette smiled slightly.

“Yes, I’m looking forward to seeing her, too.”

“Surely Hebitha will bring her along,” said Meriyal. “She has for the past fifteen years.”

“Cayla Black?” Mally asked and Nanette and Meriyal turned to her. “She’s coming to the castle?”

“Only for the Winter Ball,” said Nanette.

“Why only then?”

“Dear, the princess died while she was caring for her!” Meriyal stared at her as if she were an idiot. “She hasn’t ever said it, but Cayla probably blames herself, poor girl. And Kiora! Look at what she did in her grief and guilt. It made good sense that Cayla wouldn’t want to be here any longer.”

Mally nodded seriously at the mention of Kiora.

“It’s all for the best that she stays away from this castle,” Meriyal continued firmly, spilling cordial over herself. “Don’t you agree Nanette?”

Nanette nodded silently.

“Cayla was a right mess after Alice Spindle was hanged,” Meriyal said to Mally. “She was very close to Alice and the shock shook her to the core. It was tragic. Absolutely tragic. And just when I thought she was getting better—learning to go on with life … the poor princess died.” Meriyal sighed, her wrinkled, bloodshot eyes taking on a glistening shine. “And when Cayla told us she was leaving—well, I can’t say I was surprised. But I did feel terribly for you, Nanette. You two were so close.”

Nanette looked slightly startled at Meriyal’s genial remorse. Mally suspected that with the aid of apricot cordial, Meriyal was saying things she had never said before.

Wanting to keep the conversation going, Mally asked Nanette, “Why didn’t you leave with her?”

Nanette frowned at Mally as if she had never been asked the question before.

“I had a comfortable job with room and board. After deliberation, there wasn’t much reason for me to leave. I had nowhere else to go. I was upset—but the castle was my home. It had been for many years. We are all family here,” Nanette said, indicating Meriyal and those around her. A small smile graced Nanette’s features as she glanced at the others, singing and dancing. But her gaze didn’t seem focused on them. Rather, Mally thought, Nanette was someplace else entirely. “I agreed that it would be good for Cayla to leave. She had been jarred by the events and needed time away. I was foolish to hope that she would return.”

Something shined in Nanette’s eyes and Mally, embarrassed, glanced away.

Mally heard the rushing of feet and the kitchen door banged open so violently that every one jumped and yelled in surprise. Meriyal jerked so wildly that half her bottle of cordial now covered she and Mally.

It was Sammy, in his faded and much too large pajamas. He looked around the group of adults, his eyes wide and pale.

“Bob Kettle has been arrested!” he cried.

For a full second, Mally stared at Sammy. Tears streaked his face.

“They took him to the dungeons! They took him to the dungeons!” he cried.

Rosa rushed to her son and wrapped him in her arms. Meriyal had left her chair and crouched low so that she and Sammy were staring eye to eye.

“You saw this?” she asked him.

Sammy nodded frantically.

“I couldn’t sleep so I was coming down here,” he explained to the silent room, “and I saw two knights dragging Bob to the dungeons. I saw them! We have to help him! You have to help him! He’s in the dungeons!”

Rosa hugged her sobbing son tightly and rubbed his back, looking at the rest of the silent servants. Nanette, Mildred, and Eveyln had joined Meriyal.

Mally’s throat seemed so constricted it was hard to breathe. Her ears weren’t working properly. Meriyal was ordering the servants to do something, but Mally could only see her lips moving. It was as if she were underwater. Her vision swirled and she suddenly realized she was standing for she swayed on her feet. Lita grabbed her by the elbow. She couldn’t remember Lita coming to stand next to her.

Mally had to do something. Bob couldn’t survive in the dungeons! What were the knights doing to him? Why had they taken him? She had to do something …

“Mally! Mally, we have to go!” Lita was saying to her.

Mally looked at Lita as if she couldn’t believe her ears.

“Meriyal wants us to go to our chambers,” Lita explained. “We have to go—”

“NO!” Mally yelled, making Lita jerk and the last of the servants turn to her in alarm. Meriyal frowned deeply. “We have to do something!” Mally argued loudly to no one in particular. “We have to get him out!”

“Mally, I want you to go to your chamber,” Meriyal ordered. Evelyn and Mildred continued to shoo a staring Christopher and Betty out of the kitchen.

“No!” Mally shook her head wildly.

“Mally, please go to your chamber!”

“If you won’t do anything, then I will!” Mally exclaimed.

The kitchen was empty now save for Mally, Eveyln, Mildred, Meriyal, and Lita. Meriyal, all hints of alcohol gone from her face, glared daggers at Mally, but Mally held her ground. She was not going to bed. Let Meriyal drag her to her chamber! She’d have to lock her in to keep her there!

“Lita, will you kindly join Gerda in your chamber?” Meriyal asked smoothly, still keeping her eyes on Mally.

Lita hesitated, shooting a nervous glance at Mally before scooting past Evelyn through the door.

“Sit down,” Meriyal ordered.

Mally sat.

The three older women stood over her. She had never seen them so serious and she had never seen Meriyal so angry.

“We have to do something,” Mally pleaded. “He’ll die in the dungeons!”

“As if I don’t know that, Mally. I know Bob very well,” Meriyal cut across her sharply. “We can’t get him out—”

“We have to!” Mally cried.

“We can’t.”

Mally stared at Meriyal as if she couldn’t understand her words. They couldn’t? They couldn’t do anything? Mally’s eyes swam and she didn’t care that tears had begun to streak her cheeks.

“We can’t get him out of the castle,” said Mildred in a soft tone, “but we can—”

“Mildred!” Evelyn hissed.

Mildred faced Evelyn.

“She needs to know what we can do,” she told Evelyn evenly. “If not the child will panic and do something foolish.”

Evelyn glared viciously, but Meriyal frowned at Mally.

“What I am about to tell you must never reach another ear,” Meriyal said severely. “Do you understand me?”

Mally nodded her head.

“Not even Lita.”

Mally nodded rapidly.

Mildred and Evelyn seemed to close a tighter circle about Meriyal and Mally, tension clear in their shoulders.

“There is one servant passage to the dungeons,” Meriyal explained quietly. “Myself, Mildred, and Evelyn are the only ones who know about it. We are servants. We cannot fight the knights. We cannot rebel openly against Molick. But we can help those they imprison.”

“We take them food,” Mildred said quickly. “We give them tonics from Gladys. We bandage wounds that can be easily hidden by their clothes.”

Mally stared at the three women before her in amazement. These older women, their hair grey, their hands wrinkled, snuck into the dungeons. Mally couldn’t imagine a more dangerous act to undertake. If Molick ever found out—they would be hanged. They would be tortured.

“But if you can get in, you can get him out!” Mally exclaimed.

“No, we cannot!” Evelyn barked. “We cannot risk the knights realizing what we can do! They would notice if prisoners were disappearing from their cells. We cannot risk Molick becoming suspicious!”

Mally looked from Evelyn, her mouth an angry, tight line, to Mildred, whose eyes were soft with pity. But even she sadly shook her head.

“We will see to Bob tonight,” Meriyal said and Mally’s eyes latched onto hers.

“Can’t I—”

“No. You will not join us. We will take care of Bob. And you will go to bed.”

Bed? She couldn’t possibly sleep.

“You must get your rest,” Meriyal pressed softly. “Leave this to us. Please, trust me.”

And knowing that she couldn’t argue anymore, Mally numbly nodded her head and rose on wobbly feet. She lay in bed a very long time, staring at the ceiling. She had always disliked Evelyn, and Mildred’s kindness had always seemed so easy to manipulate. She couldn’t imagine thinking those things now.