Part 3 (1/2)

The next day, Jill returned to the turret room. The merchant was still working away at the invisible silk, pumping and picking and weaving. Jill watched him from the doorway. After a while, he looked up.

”Ah, Princess! A pleasure to see you!” he said. ”Come, come, look what I'm working on now!” Jill approached. ”It's the hem!” he said. ”Can't you see it? Along the edge, I'm running a slightly different color-something like the red mud at the banks of a yellow river. Do you see?”

Jill stared. She saw nothing. She hesitated.

At last, she said, ”Yes.”

The merchant looked up from the loom. His eyes were so pale. ”Do you see it, Jill?”

Jill s.h.i.+vered. Then she heard her mother say, Perhaps one day you'll learn to see it all the time.

”Of course I can,” she told the merchant. Then she left.

At last, the day came. Jill was woken very, very early in the morning to help her mother bathe. As she rubbed the bath oils and soap into her mother's smooth skin, she said, ”Mother, do you think I will look beautiful today?”

The soapy water, lapping gently against the edge of the tub, was the only sound in the room. Then, slowly, the queen turned to her daughter. Jill could see her mother's eyes working up and down her face. At last, the queen said, ”Perhaps you will.” And she smiled.

Jill's heart sang.

After Jill had bathed herself, the merchant came into her dressing room. He held his hands out wide before him. He beamed. He looked at the s.p.a.ce between his hands, and then back at Jill.

”Well?” he said, ”what do you think?”

Jill stared. She saw nothing.

”I . . .” she began. Then she stopped.

”Yes?” the merchant said, frowning.

”I don't . . .” she said again.

His frown deepened. ”Go on . . .”

She opened her mouth to speak. And then, in her mind, she heard the words, Perhaps you will.

And she said, ”Will you help me put it on?”

The merchant smiled. ”Of course, Your Highness.”

He did not look at her when she dropped her towel. His voice was as tight as his eyelids when he said, ”No underclothes, Your Highness. The silk will bunch up around it.”

Slowly, with eyes closed, the merchant lowered the dress over Jill's head. ”Light as air, isn't it?” he asked wistfully. She nodded and swallowed. Her eyes, too, were closed, and she concentrated on how beautiful her mother always looked, how graceful and lovely she was.

And then Jill opened her eyes and looked at herself in the mirror.

She caught her breath. A silken gown, as fine and s.h.i.+mmering as any that has ever been, hung weightless over her slender little shoulders. It was red and orange and blue and yellow, just exactly like a glittering, sun-dappled pile of coins as the sky is fading from pink to black. Just so did the colors of the dress blend in and out, yellow fading to orange fading to red and back again as the dress s.h.i.+fted over Jill's little body.

Jill clutched her hands to her chest. She had been right. Somehow, she had known just what it looked like. And her mother had been right. She did look beautiful. She knew she did.

She smiled at Holbein Cornelius Anderson in the mirror. ”It's very beautiful,” she said, beaming. ”Thank you.”

The silk merchant suddenly looked confused.

The Royal Procession started at the gate of the castle. At its head were the trumpeters, blowing the fanfare to announce the royal party. Behind them, Lord Boorly led the group of the king's and queen's most favored courtiers, arrayed in their finest clothes. Behind them walked the soldiers in their silver armor, clomp clomp clomp. Then came the king and the queen, arm in arm. The king wore his purple ermine. But, of course, no one noticed him. For the queen walked beside him, wearing a stunning gown of aubergine and white lace. Garnets hung around her neck and rubies from her soft earlobes. Her pale skin s.h.i.+ned, and her blue eyes echoed the immensity of the sky.

And then, behind them, came Jill. Little Jill. Her hair had been coiffed. Her nails had been painted. She wore clay-red shoes and red ribbons in her hair. Her silk dress-so light, so smooth, so s.h.i.+ning-swished against her legs. She felt like she was wearing one of those mirages that appear on the road on a hot day-the dress was that light, that s.h.i.+mmering.

The royal party entered the roaring, adoring throng that lined the streets outside the castle. The trumpets blared and the people cheered. Lord Boorly and the other courtiers waved, and the crowd whistled and waved back. The king and queen smiled serenely at their subjects, and the people of the kingdom cheered like mad.

And then they saw the princess.

A hush fell over the crowd. It ran down the street like a s.h.i.+ver. No one spoke. They watched the princess walking, head held high, brows arched just as the queen's always were, smiling and looking not quite at the crowd, but just above their heads.

Suddenly, a whisper shook the stillness. ”The princess's new dress! The princess's new dress!” Jill heard it. Her smile grew a little wider. A little more confident. The whispers grew. ”The princess's new dress! Beautiful! Beautiful!” Princess Jill allowed her head to float just a little higher. Her bearing became more natural, more regal. She stopped looking above her subjects' heads and started looking into their wondering faces. She smiled more broadly.

The whisper become a wave-”The dress is beautiful! She is beautiful!”-undulating through the admiring crowd. She was certain her mother could hear it, too. Jill's chest swelled near to bursting.

And then Jill noticed a little child, sitting atop her father's shoulders. The child was just a year or two younger than Jill. She even looked like Jill, a little. Similar hair. Something in the eyes, perhaps. And then Jill noticed that the little girl was staring at her strangely. Her little mouth was hanging open. Her eyebrows were crawling up her tender, rounded forehead. She raised a little finger and pointed at Jill. The smile left Jill's face.

”Why is the princess naked, Daddy?”

Jill stopped walking.

The wave of whispers faltered, then died.

”She's naked, Daddy! Why?” the child said.

The blood rushed to Jill's cheeks. She dimly perceived that, ahead of her, the procession had stopped. Her parents had turned to look at her.

”The princess is naked!” someone in the crowd cried. ”The princess is naked!”

Jill looked down at herself. The reds, the yellows, the blues-were gone. There was nothing. She was, indeed, completely naked.

Jill looked up. Her mother was there. The queen's eyes were furiously wide, her nostrils flared like a bull's. Her lips were moving, but it was as if Jill had gone deaf. The world was suddenly silent, dream-like. She tried to make out what her mother was saying. Then, suddenly, she could hear again. ”Cover yourself, you fool!” the queen bellowed.

And then Jill heard them. Waves of laughter crashed around her. She turned and began running, trying to cover herself. The faces around her were wild, howling. Their eyes were wide like moons, the makeup they wore cracked like caverns. Wild, wondering, piercing laughter cascaded down upon her. She ran, ran, ran as fast as her bare legs could carry her.