Rose (Flower Trilogy) Read Online Free PDF Page A

apartment. As they crossed the Upper Ward, excitement churned in the pit of her stomach. She was about to meet the King and Queen of England.
    When they reached the open courtyard called Horn Court, where two red-and-white-liveried footmen stood guard at the door, she paused and pulled a curl forward to rest artfully on one bare shoulder. Her breath was coming short, and it had little to do with the rigid, pointed stomacher that stiffened the front of her bodice.
    “Shall we?” Chrystabel asked, gesturing toward the door.

    One of the footmen pulled it open. To Rose’s disappointment, the monarchs weren’t waiting right inside. Instead, she followed her mother into a tall, wide hall that held nothing but a staircase.
    But what a staircase. “Oooh,” she breathed. “ ’Tis beautiful!”
    “It looks French,” Chrystabel whispered back. “While exiled on the Continent, King Charles was much taken with Versailles.”
    French or English, Rose thought the staircase lovely.
    Twin flights of steps rose to their right and left, meeting at a central landing above. The rooms they had been given here were rather ancient, with plain plastered walls, but these walls were covered in colorful painted murals depicting Greeks and Trojans. Giants battled on the deeply coved ceiling that towered over her head.
    As Rose climbed the steps, carefully holding her skirts, she felt very small and insignificant. She supposed that was the desired effect. Even here, outside his chambers, the King would want to project strength and power.
    At the top of the stairs, she held her breath while another liveried footman opened another door.
    But she was disappointed again. The enormous rectangular room beyond held no furniture and just a few lords and ladies absorbed in softly murmured conversations.
    Rose’s and Chrystabel’s high-heeled shoes made clicking sounds on the planked floor as they crossed the chamber.
    Rose huffed out a sigh. “Where are the King and Queen?”
    “We’re getting there, dear. This is the Guard Chamber.”
    As though she couldn’t have guessed. Military trophies covered every inch of the walls: helmets and drums, shields and armor, guns and lancets, swords and knives.
    “Are there any weapons left for the army?” she whispered.
    Mum’s laugh broke the hush of the chamber. “I certainly hope so!” She met Rose’s gaze, her brown eyes glittering.
    “ ’Tis an impressive display, but all the same, I expect we are still well defended.”

    The painted ceiling featured Jupiter and Juno seated on thrones at either end. In the center, a glassed octagonal opening provided a view of the stars and, Rose imagined, a great splash of natural light in the daytime.
    Before the door at the far end, Chrystabel paused. “Lady Trentingham and Lady Rose Ashcroft,” she announced, her voice laced with quiet dignity.
    Finally. Rose lifted her burgundy satin skirts as one of the six guards bowed and opened the door.
    But the room beyond was deserted, save for an usher at the other end.
    “What is this?” Rose demanded.
    “The King’s Presence Chamber.” Chrystabel curtsied in front of the magnificent red velvet throne, taking Rose’s hand to make certain she did the same.
    Thinking it the most ridiculous thing she’d ever done, Rose frowned as she straightened. “Despite the name of the chamber, the King,” she said pointedly, staring at the empty throne, “does not seem to be present.”
    “Come along,” her mother said with a half concealed smile.
    Rose looked to the heavens for patience, seeing instead a painted ceiling where Mercury was presenting a portrait of the King to the four corners of the world. She was beginning to think all this decoration might be a bit overdone.
    A red-and-white-garbed usher grandly opened the next door. By now, Rose wasn’t expecting to see Their Majesties on the other side. In fact, she figured that at this rate she’d be a wrinkled old crone by the time she met them.
    “The