Garden Princess by Kristin Kladstrup Read Free Book Online Page B

seize the treasure.
    But it was best to be cautious. Hortensia might remember the earrings. She might come back. Better to give her time to get back to her house, where she would no doubt want to rest up in anticipation of the extravagant feast she would hold that evening. Hortensia always celebrated in grand style after one of her garden parties.
    Keep your eye on the diamonds, Krazo had told himself earlier. And so he had stuck by the girl who was wearing them, forgoing the chance to acquire treasures from other guests. He had sat behind the wisteria vine, watching the girl grow more and more fretful, until at last Hortensia had shown up and invited her into the garden. He had followed along stealthily as Hortensia went through her usual round of questioning.
Looking for inspiration,
she always called it.
Not just any flower will do. It must be the right flower for the right girl.
    Which in this case meant a daisy with diamonds twined among its leaves.
    Was it safe now? Could he snatch the earrings?
    Just as Krazo was about to emerge from his hiding place, he heard a whimper from somewhere above him. “Marguerite?” someone whispered. There was a scraping noise and more whimpering, and then something came crashing down in front of him.
    It was the princess. She straightened, looking up and down the path. “Marguerite?” she said, louder this time. “If this is some sort of trick, it isn’t funny!”
    Too loud! thought Krazo.
    The princess looked as if she agreed; she seemed to shrink into herself as if she, too, feared the return of Hortensia. She tiptoed over to the daisy and reached out with a trembling hand to touch its blossoms and leaves. “Marguerite?” she whispered. Then she gasped, and Krazo saw her hand close around the diamond earring. She stared at it, then fell to her knees beside the daisy.
    But what was that in her other hand? Coral beads? Where had she found those? Krazo was sure he had just seen Hortensia wearing them.
    Then he remembered. There were two strings of coral beads: two sisters, two necklaces. Hortensia had taken one, but not the other, and the princess had taken it for herself.
    Oh! Oh! This was too much! Now she was pushing aside the leaves of the daisy. She was looking for the other earring!
    Krazo darted forward. The princess gave a cry of surprise as he bit down — hard — on her wrist.
    “Ow!” she yelped. Krazo seized the earring in his beak and yanked it away. He skittered down the path, craning his head to see if the princess would follow. When she did, he would rush back and get the other earring, too.
    But she wasn’t coming after him. Krazo slowed, and then he stopped.
    The princess’s wrist was in her mouth, and she was crying. Foolish girl! She wasn’t even looking at the diamond! He could run back and grab it before she even noticed. He could grab the coral beads while he was at it.
    But he didn’t. For he could feel the familiar catch in his throat. And as the princess’s tears went on, the catch in his throat grew worse. It became a pain in his breast.
    Such a thing had never happened to him before. The girls he had seen cry had never cried this long. That was because Hortensia was changing them into flowers, and once that was finished, so was the crying. But now Hortensia was nowhere in sight, and Krazo was in agony; he felt as if an eagle’s talons were ripping at his heart. He opened his beak to cry out, but he couldn’t make a sound. A tremor ran through his body, and he closed his eyes.
    Stop crying, he thought.
    The princess didn’t stop.
    Stop crying!
    And then a strange thing happened in his mind. He seemed to hear someone else crying as well. It was a woman. And — Krazo stumbled sideways — he could see her in his mind! She was sitting huddled on a rough stool in the corner of a foul little room, the stub of a tallow candle on a table next to her. The room was freezing cold. Krazo knew without knowing how he knew that this room was often cold