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Archie nodded, and Leo walked around the desk to see what he could find. The old knight might not want to show Archie the notices, but he did nothing to stop the cat.
And Leo was already rearranging a few of his plans and ready to go fishing.
Chapter 11
Cat-and-Mouse
Standing on a chair in front of the Charity House Children, the princess let out a high-pitched shriek. A few children covered their ears. The cat ran out through an open window. And Archie was impressed. In only a week, Ainsley had somehow memorized enough of Anderdolf the Dwarf to play her role without a book. And after going through all the comedic and romantic scenes showing the dwarf’s anonymous correspondence with his nameless storybook princess, things had taken a slightly darker turn. A handsome and conniving man had taken credit for writing all of Anderdolf’s letters and lured the princess into a trap.
Now, Anderdolf had to race to the villain’s tower to rescue her, even if it meant revealing the truth of his deception. Archie came in right on cue, crawling around the room on his knees and making a show of hiding behind books and the children in the audience as he approached the princess. Yes, his over-the-top antics made the children laugh, but Archie also hoped it would show that the dwarf had learned to see past his former insecurities and use his smaller size to his advantage. Anderdolf would do anything to help the woman he had grown to love—he said so several times as he poetically narrated his way through the makeshift tower.
It was the way of plays.
But now they had a problem. By unspoken agreement, Archie had taken all the male roles in the play, and Ainsley had taken all the females. And it had worked well enough when they were merely speaking dialogue or moving around the room, but now Archie was supposed to fight the villain. How was he supposed to fight himself?
Archie cleared his throat and looked around the room for inspiration. He couldn’t disappoint the children by skipping over the fight. He couldn’t disappoint the princess.
Then the answer came to him.
“It seems one of the evil villain’s spells has gone horribly wrong!” he cried in the voice of Anderdolf, even as he deviated away from the usual script. It wasn’t poetic, but it would get the job done. “He meant to make himself stronger—to be an equal match for the princess’s legendary champion—but he made a mistake. He didn’t know I was a mere dwarf, so instead of making himself stronger, he has made himself shorter. He looks like a small child.” It was ridiculous, but then, it was faerie story. And Archie had made eye contact with a few boys in the crowd he knew would take any excuse to wrestle with him. “Several small children.”
Hamish jumped in to tackle him first. Then the twins. Soon Archie had a whole swarm of “villains” on his back. He let them have their way for a moment, adding to the drama and the enjoyment of the children, before throwing them off one by one and fighting the rest of his way to the princess’s side.
Ainsley had her hand over her mouth, fighting her own smile as the matrons helped to resettle all the villainous children, but she was soon in character again. The princess had to look betrayed. Heartbroken, as she tried to determine if Anderdolf was her true love or another charlatan. She wouldn’t be tricked again.
Soon, Ainsley was reciting all the same lines she had the week before. “Why have you sought to deceive me so? Did you not know that it wasn’t the height of your stature that won me over but the tenderness of your soul?”
Anderdolf answered her. He had to answer her. “You saw me every day, Princess, and yet you never looked my way,” he said. “I was the one to hand you your cloak before it rained, the one to light a candle when you walked in darkness. The fool and servant of your court. I longed for you to see and accept me as I was, but under the cloak of the pen I had to remain.”
Archie bowed his head, just as before, but this time, the scene continued.
The princess stepped down from her chair/tower and came to stand across from him. Their eyes met, him still on his knees and looking upward. Her mouth formed a softer smile. “I can see you now,” she said, with so much sincerity Archie lost himself completely.
When he had come to the Charity House to deliver the usual flour and make the bread, he had assumed he would merely wave at the princess from the kitchen. Perhaps recite another line from Anderdolf and see her smile. Sure, Ainsley had said she was lonely and suggested they might read some more together, but after the initial excitement had worn off, he had quickly reminded himself that there were limits. Their previous meetings had been more private, and she was sure to want him to keep it that way.
He knew his place, and he could be discreet.
But that’s not what happened. The princess had dragged him out here for everyone to see. And somewhere along the way, he had given himself over to the fantasy—feeding into their audience of eager children and Ainsely herself. She was the perfect storybook princess and recited her lines with passion. The words and gestures built between them like a dance. Like a dream. Was it too much to hope that she also saw something in Archie that no one else did?
It all seemed far too surreal. Archie had forgotten what he was supposed to say next. And then he realized, there weren’t any written lines left.
Only a simple action that could change everything.
“Kiss her!” the children cried from their seats on the floor, Sophie up on her knees with her excitement. Even the “villainous” boys were starting to chime in.
They all knew what was supposed to happen at the end of any faerie story.
Archie was the only one still trailing behind.
“Kiss her!” the children shouted again.
But there still were limits, right? There had to be. Ainsley was the princess. He was a miller’s son—an insignificant mouse. How could everyone else have forgotten?
“I can’t kiss her.” He couldn’t even use the fake falsetto voice he had adopted for Anderdolf anymore. It was just too much of a lie.
“Perhaps not,” Ainsley said, but she leaned forward with a mischievous glint in her eye. Wearing the mask of Anderdolf, it had seemed Archie had somehow gotten the upper-hand in their interactions, but now—when he felt himself the miller’s son again—their roles had completely reversed. And if Archie Miller was a mouse, the princess was a cat ready to play. “But an accomplished actor such as yourself must know how such things are done in the theater.” She reached out and put her hand on his cheek like they were lovers.
Her lips moved closer, bending down to meet him, and his heart began to race.
