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The head judge a
My friends cheered and laughed, and the crowd gathered round to congratulate me. “It seems unfair that one pie should win me Best Cook when Padmoh won so many ribbons,” I said. But my protest was taken for false modesty, and the judges begged for my lemon pie recipe.
Though Ben Marshall could not get close to me, he smiled and tried to catch my eye. “There is my bride,” he said to some of those around him, and they raised a glass to his good fortune. I felt sick inside that I had given him false hope, and I took no joy in Padmoh s sad countenance.
Just as Ben was about to leap toward me out of the crowd, a horn sounded. Its call was long and sweet, a call to come to the square. The crowd moved as one in that direction, I in the middle. I saw that Ben fell farther back.
Again the horn sounded. Musicians began to play as we gathered in the square, and even the merchants and entertainers came away from their booths and stages and gathered to listen.
John Temsland caught me away from the crowd. “We have both won,” he said.
“As well you should,” I said. “You have done well. It made me glad to witness Duke Morland’s unhappiness at not seeing your father humiliated.”
“The king said I should have my wish granted,” John said. “All is going as I pla
“And what will you ask?”
“I asked him to give you whatever you would ask,” said John. “It is for you to decide, Keturah. Father knows my heart. Ask to be made Lady Keturah Reeve, and before the hour is up, I will marry you.”
And then he slipped away, and though the crowd closed in around me, I was alone with secret wonder.
The king was in full regalia and wore a crown of gold and rubies. The queen also was dressed in purple velvets and ermine, and wore a coronet of silver and diamonds. She was the only one not looking upon us. She was eating something, and only after several bites did I see it was a piece of my lemon pie.
“Come with us, closer to the king,” Beatrice said, taking my hand. She was still dressed as a boy from singing in the choir. We pushed through the people to the front of the gathering.
There was a call of trumpets, and the musicians ceased to play and the people listened.
“I thank the people of Tide-by-Rood and Marshall for welcoming me to their beautiful lands,” said the king.
The people cheered and whistled and threw their hats into the air.
“I have promised a shoe full of gold to the one who most delighted me at the fair. In the end, Lord Temsland had his choice, and his lady hers. I have my choice, and my queen hers. And so we will divide the gold four ways.
“First, Lord Temsland’s choice. To the lead soprano of the choir, a quarter of a shoe of gold. Come forward, soprano.”
Beatrice as Bill glanced nervously at us and then stepped forward.
I could not hear what she said, but Gretta and Choirmaster gasped when she did not bow but instead curtseyed. The king, however, only laughed, and Bill was invited to remove his cap and let his long braids fall. The crowd murmured and one could hear stifled laughter. At first Lord Temsland seemed somewhat flustered, but his wife’s gentle amusement calmed him, and he was further calmed to see that the king was not disturbed by the disguise.
“Well, the bishop of Great Town has women in his choir,” the king said. Turning then to Lord Temsland, he added, “And if you wish to be in style, you must not put your women in disguise.”
“Your Majesty,” Beatrice said, “if I may, it was my own deception. I beg your forgiveness.”
Gently the king said, “How can I give you that? It would be like offering forgiveness to an angel. But I can give you this.” He handed her a small velvet purse that jangled with gold. “And what would you have for your wish granted?” he asked.
“Your Majesty, only that I might share your gift with someone,” she said.
“And who would that be?”
Beatrice fetched Choirmaster by the hand and led him before the king. “Your Majesty, here is the man who makes me sing, for his music is the music of angels. And—and we are to be married.”
The crowd murmured, oohed, and tittered with surprise.
Choirmaster dabbed his nose with a sparkling white handkerchief.
“I assume this match is also according to your wishes, Choirmaster?” the king said.
“Your Majesty, it is,” he said, bowing deeply before the king. He did not let go of Beatrice’s hand.
“You must write an Easter mass for me next year,” the king said, “for which I will pay you in gold.”
“It has always been my deepest desire,” Choirmaster said, smiling—the broadest smile I had ever seen upon him.
The couple backed away, and the king called, “Now the Tailor.” Tailor came forward and I saw that he was wearing not even one item of orange clothing.
“You have done as fine a work as any of the royal tailors. You are Lady Temsland’s choice,” said the king. “Besides your gold, what is the reward that you would wish for?”
“To marry the woman who sewed most of the finery you speak of, Your Majesty,” he said.
“Ah. And who would that be?”
Tailor gestured to Gretta, who came forward boldly and curtseyed.
“Is this your wish, young maid?” the king asked.
“Your Majesty,” she said, “here is an imperfect man, the only one in the world perfect enough for me.”
“Then it will be. And each year you will both come to my palace and sew my daughter a new Easter gown. For that I will pay you in gold.”
“It has been my greatest wish,” said Tailor, bowing with great dignity.
The villagers cheered, for there was nothing they liked more than weddings. The king raised his hand for silence.
“Keturah Reeve,” he called. “Come forward.”
I came forward and curtseyed.
“The queen has chosen your pie as the most wondrous thing of the fair,” said the king. “You too will have a quarter of the shoe of gold.”
He held it up to drop it into my hand, but I curtseyed again. “Please, I would ask that my share be divided among the poor of the village, Your Majesty,” I said, for I knew that tomorrow I would not need money, that tomorrow I would not be what I was today.
The king turned and said a few words to Lord Temsland and John, and I turned to join the crowd.
“Wait, Keturah Reeve,” said the king. “The gold will be distributed as you requested. But there is the matter of your wish granted.”
I returned to my place before him.
John Temsland, beside the king, smiled and nodded at me, encouraging me. There he stood, so young and beautiful and strong, and he loved me. His mother and father, too, smiled gently, even lovingly, upon me.
I could ask now to be made a lady, and John would marry me. Oh, the good I could do for my people as the future Lady Temsland!
I realized that the crowd had been waiting for my answer. I waited too—waited for the words that would come to me as they always did around the common fire, waited for the words that would begin this new story of me... The villagers seemed puzzled by my silence, as if they all knew precisely what they would ask for me if it were up to them to choose. No one appeared more puzzled than John.
I knew I must speak, and I must speak now.
“Your Majesty,” I said. He was a dear lad, John Temsland, so handsome, with hair the color of ripe wheat and eyes clear as a baby’s, who loved me...
“Speak, Keturah,” John said.
I felt the evening sunshine upon me—but what was the joy of sunshine if there were no night? Wasn’t the sunset the sweetest time of day? Could I ask for only day and never dark?
And what of my friends? Could I ask for them ever to be at my side? Already I felt them moving past me, faster and faster, while I stayed still. And oh, the peace in that stillness.