Read Tuesdays at the Castle for Free Online Page B

would be the new king,” Celie argued. “And since Rolf is still the crown prince, then Father must still be alive!”
    “What if the Castle has chosen someone else?” Pogue asked suddenly. “Well … there’s always that chance, isn’t there?” He ducked his head. “Sorry, Rolf,” he muttered.
    Celie gave him a withering look. “But then Rolf wouldn’t be the crown prince,” Celie pointed out. “His room would have moved, or been made smaller, or something.”
    “Mother and Father’s room is the same … isn’t it?” Lilah stood up.
    “I haven’t looked,” Rolf said slowly. He got up, too.
    Now they were all on their feet, and Celie’s heart was fluttering worse than before. She couldn’t believe that she hadn’t checked in her parents’ room before. But the Castle had been in mourning … hadn’t it? It had draped itself in black, had refrained from making any big changes. But was that only because they were sad and scared? Did it understand death? Could it really sense what had happened to her parents, leagues away?
    Pogue asked the same questions as they hurried along the corridors.
    “It’s a castle … I mean, how much could it really understand?”
    “Don’t talk like that,” Celie warned. “It might throw you out!”
    “Good question, though,” Rolf said as they reached their parents’ chambers. “No one really knows. But whether or not our parents are truly dead, the Castle is upset, and it’s getting ready for something . Don’t you think, Celie?”
    Celie just nodded, a little out of breath from keeping up with their longer legs. The Castle was getting ready for something: the memorial service, a coronation, she wasn’t sure. There was a kind of hum to the stones, a sense of awareness that hadn’t been there before. Or not quite, anyway.
    “Moment of truth,” Rolf said, putting one hand on the latch of their parents’ bedchamber.
    “Please hurry, Rolf,” Lilah said. “Before one of the servants sees and thinks we’ve run mad with grief.”
    Rolf opened the door, and they all pushed inside. He closed it swiftly behind them, and they looked around in the dimness. The fire and candles had not been lit, and the curtains were drawn. Celie tried to cross the room to open them, and barked her shin on a low stool.
    “Ouch!”
    “I’ll do it,” Lilah said, and gracefully made her way to the windows without bumping into anything, and pulled the heavy curtains wide.
    Celie gazed around with her brother and sister and their friend. There was the bearskin rug before the hearth. There on the mantel were the ivory miniatures of all four of the royal children. The purple coverlet. Their mother’s embroidery frame with a half-finished design stretched across it. The carved pedestal with the scarlet cushion on top, bearing the crown of state. Their father had taken a smaller circlet to wear at Bran’s advancement to wizard.
    “It’s just the same,” Celie whispered, and felt tears pour down her cheeks.
    “Oh, what shall we do?” Lilah said, wringing her hands.
    “What do you mean? This is glorious news!” Rolf’s eyes were shining, and he put an arm around Celie and gave her a tight squeeze.
    “We have two hundred guests arriving today for a funeral ,” Lilah reminded her brother. “What are we to do with them? Send them home? Because the Castle thinks Mother and Father are still alive?”
    “Lilah!” Celie shrugged off her brother’s arm, angry. “Don’t you believe that they’re alive?”
    “I—I would like to,” Lilah said, her large eyes wet with unshed tears. “But there’s also Avery’s report!” She held out her right hand, showing them their mother’s wedding ring on her middle finger. “And I have to be the practical one. If they’re not—”
    Celie rushed to Lilah and embraced her, and Rolf followed, wrapping his arms around both sisters. Pogue stood with his hands in his pockets, gazing out the window, and then finally spoke after a few