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Not Everything Dies

Page 6

by John Patrick Kennedy


  “We are here,” Elizabeth said.

  “Ladies!” Dorotyas’s voice cracked through the hall. “Curtsy!”

  All fourteen dropped into low curtsies and stayed there. One of the younger ones wobbled slightly but managed to catch her balance. Elizabeth smiled. She left Ruxandra by the door and walked slowly up and down the rows of the girls, her eyes going from one girl to the next.

  “Marsca, your bow needs straightening.” She touched the girl’s hair ribbon and kept going. “Csilia, your collar is askew. Agota, you have a stain on your skirt. Hanja, your nails are dirty. This is the third time for you, I believe.”

  Hanja began trembling from head to foot. Tears started to well up in her eyes. Elizabeth didn’t look at her. She nodded to Dorotyas.

  “Rise!” Dorotyas called.

  The girls straightened. Several winced from being so long in the curtsy, but no one made a sound. All of them kept looking at the ground.

  “Where are Nusi and Sasa, Dorotyas?” Elizabeth asked.

  “Sasa is sick,” Dorotyas said. “The women are looking after her. Nusi is still in contemplation, reflecting on her behavior yesterday.”

  “Very good.” Elizabeth stepped up on the dais beside the chairs. “We have a guest joining us in the evenings from now on. She is of royal blood, and you will treat her with the same respect you treat me. Understood?”

  “Yes, my lady,” the fourteen girls said in unison.

  Elizabeth nodded her satisfaction and then held out a hand to Ruxandra.

  Ruxandra’s feet froze in place. It wasn’t fear, not exactly. It was something different. The thought of seeing so many new people sent butterflies dancing in her stomach. She felt a sudden, desperate need to flee.

  “Now don’t be shy,” Elizabeth called. “Come in and let me introduce you.”

  Ruxandra swallowed the urge to bare her claws and fangs and roar at the girls, to show them she was powerful and not afraid. They’re just people.

  That was the problem. Ruxandra was not accustomed to people. To be in a room with so many others made her nervous.

  They cannot hurt me.

  Maybe some of them will like me.

  Ruxandra wasn’t sure why that mattered.

  She walked out and took Elizabeth’s hand. The warmth of her skin and the strong pulse beneath it calmed Ruxandra’s nerves. Elizabeth squeezed her fingers and turned back to the girls.

  “Ladies,” Elizabeth said. “This is Lady Ruxandra. Welcome her.”

  “Welcome, my lady!” the girls chorused as they dropped into a short curtsy.

  The butterflies in Ruxandra’s stomach beat faster. She looked at the ground, unable to meet the numerous eyes studying her.

  “These are my students,” Elizabeth said. “The younger daughters of many fine nobles and princes of the Hungarian empire. They’re here to learn the proper skills of a lady: deportment, dancing, entertaining, and the day-to-day running of a household. I thought this would be an excellent place for you to learn.”

  She raised her voice. “Ruxandra was in an accident. She has lost all memory of her family and how a lady should behave. So I ask you to work with her to help her relearn.”

  “Yes, my lady,” the girls chorused again.

  “Tonight, we shall begin with the curtsy,” Elizabeth said. “Ruxandra, please stand with the other girls, in the second row, perhaps. Ersok, Ferike, make room for her, please.”

  The girls stepped apart, leaving room for Ruxandra between them. Ruxandra took her place and smiled at each of them. They didn’t look back at her. From this close range, the sharp smell of their fear filled Ruxandra’s nostrils. It was almost painful.

  What is so frightening?

  “Now, eyes up, please,” Elizabeth said. “Each of you shall demonstrate the three curtsies. Ruxandra, you watch and try to imitate.”

  “Yes, Eliz—” There are other people here. “Yes, my lady.”

  Ersok shot Ruxandra a look of terror, mixed with sympathy.

  “Begin,” Elizabeth said.

  For the next hour, Ruxandra watched the girls and imitated. Elizabeth corrected her posture, foot placement, and hand placement with calm, gentle words and directions. By the end of the lesson, Ruxandra could perform all three curtsies—formal, informal, and royal—correctly. She learned the correct address for the girls (“miss,” followed by their names), for other nobles (my lord/my lady), for princes (Your Highness), and the king (Your Majesty).

  “Very good,” Elizabeth said at last. She clapped three times. “Girls, you are dismissed. Ruxandra, you too. Marsca, Csilia, and Agota shall remain with Dorotyas to be reminded of the proper way to dress. Hanja, come to my study and we will…discuss… your mistakes. Good night, ladies.”

  “Good night, my lady!” the girls said. They gave deep, respectful curtsies. Then ten fled the room, leaving three to go to Dorotyas and Hanja, biting her lip and barely holding back tears, to follow Elizabeth.

  The next night, they danced.

  Hanja was not in class, though Nusi and Sasa rejoined the class. Sasa’s skin was pale, and she sweated as she moved. She didn’t utter a word of complaint, though, and she moved as gracefully as any of the others. Nusi did not move gracefully. She walked bowlegged and limping. Several times she bit her lip and blinked back tears. She didn’t say anything either.

  Dorotyas clapped the beat, slow and steady, and the girls danced in groups and pairs, taking the lead by turns. Elizabeth stood beside Ruxandra, guiding her through the steps of each of the dances. None of the girls spoke.

  Ruxandra found it strange. She had hoped to talk to the girls, to learn about them, but not one said a single word the entire lesson.

  After, Ruxandra followed them out into the courtyard. The girls stayed together, their eyes down. Two held Nusi’s elbows, helping her walk. The group moved quickly and fearfully, like deer passing through a grove wherein wolves lurked. They stopped against the outer wall of a long, low building.

  As one, they turned back to watch Ruxandra following them.

  Ruxandra did not know what to say or what to do. She stopped ten feet away.

  One of the taller girls stepped forward. “May we help you, Lady Ruxandra?” The girl’s eyes did not meet hers, nor avoid them—instead they stared slightly to the left of where their gazes would lock.

  “I thought we might talk.”

  The girl shivered under her thin dress, but she made no move to go inside the building. The others stayed as well. Nusi was in agony, from the expression on her face. Sasa leaned against another girl, the sweat on her pale skin starting to freeze.

  “What do you want to talk about?” asked the older girl in a polite monotone.

  Ruxandra searched for something to say. “I don’t . . . know.”

  “I see.”

  With those two words the girl built a wall between them. Ruxandra didn’t understand why. She didn’t think she’d done anything to make them upset. Sasa’s legs gave out, and the girl she was leaning on grabbed her to keep her from falling. Another girl moved to help.

  “She needs to go inside,” Ruxandra said.

  “Yes,” said the first girl. “She does.”

  Still, no one moved.

  They’re like wolves defending their territory. They won’t let a stranger in, and they won’t back down.

  Why are they so frightened?

  “I’m sorry.” Ruxandra stepped back and then dropped into the formal curtsy. “I’ll go. Please take your friends inside.”

  She turned and walked away, listening as she went. None of the girls moved until she was well across the courtyard. Then they helped their friends inside and shut the doors. If they spoke inside the building, she couldn’t hear them, though she tried.

  The next night, Ruxandra woke up hungry.

  She lay in the darkness, not moving. The Beast prowled inside her, moving in her mind like an animal pacing a too-small cage. Her body was as taut as a bowstring. Her fangs poked out through her lips, and her
talons were ready to shred her blankets.

  Beyond the curtains of the bed, she heard the fire crackling, warming the room. Jana was laying out her dress and shoes on the chest.

  She smelled delicious.

  She’s so close.

  Ruxandra felt the muscles in her arm move without her volition. She saw her hand reaching for the bed curtain. Ruxandra grabbed at it with her mind, trying to capture control of her hand. It froze but didn’t pull back. The Beast growled with hunger, the low sound making the bed vibrate.

  “My lady?” Jana’s voice was bright and cheerful. “Are you awake?”

  Jana walked toward the bed. To Ruxandra, Jana’s light footsteps sounded like a hammer striking an anvil. Ruxandra kept her body still, despite the Beast’s struggle to break free.

  “My lady?” Jana said. “Would you like some—”

  The Beast growled again, frustration and hunger mingling and making the bed vibrate.

  “My . . . my lady?” The cheer vanished from Jana’s voice. “Are you all right?”

  Ruxandra fought for control.

  The bed curtain began to move.

  “Don’t!” The word rasped out of her mouth, like jagged steel dragging across stone. “Don’t open it!”

  “My lady?” Concern and fear filled Jana’s voice.

  “Get out,” Ruxandra said. “Go to the kitchens. Wait there for me.”

  “My lady—”

  “GET OUT!” Ruxandra’s voice echoed off the walls.

  Jana squeaked. She ran, her feet moving fast and light. Ruxandra heard her wrestle the door open, heard it bounce off the wall as the girl dashed down the tower stairs. She felt the cool air from the staircase invade the room, even through the thick curtains.

  In her head, she could feel the Beast rushing forward to take over.

  It came at her like a river in flood, rushing at her, slamming into her, and driving her back. She clawed against it, holding her place, holding onto control. It wasn’t at full strength yet, and so, like a dam against a raging flood, she stopped it. She made her talons retreat into her fingers, pulled her fangs back into her gums.

  When she had control, when the Beast was locked in an iron grip, she reached out and opened the curtain.

  The only light came from the flickering yellow flames. They danced and jumped in the breeze from the hallway, setting all the shadows in motion.

  Ruxandra rose from the bed, picked the keys off her side table, and wrapped them tight in her fist. The keys were good. They would remind her of her humanity and the privileges it brought. Then, with slow, deliberate steps, she walked out of the door and down the stairs.

  I’ll be fine as long as I don’t see anyone. I’ll be fine as long as no one talks to me.

  The smells of the castle filled her nose, stronger than ever. She could smell every person in the rooms she passed. One had three men sleeping in it. Another had four women. A third had a man and woman, panting heavily and smelling of sweat and sex. The pull to that door was ferocious: such rich blood, flavored with pleasure, tasting like wine. If I could taste them while they still coupled. She fought with all her might to keep the Beast from rending their flesh, ending their passion with its hunger.

  I won’t. If I do, I will be sent back to the cage, and I cannot go back there. Will not go back there.

  Finally, she crossed the great hall and stepped outside. A strong wind pushed at her and filled her nostrils with the sharp, cold smell of snow to come. She breathed deep, letting it clear her head. Then she walked across the courtyard, pulled open the dungeon door, and walked down the stairs. The glow of the stones, visible only to her, lit her way.

  She pulled open the dungeon door, and the smell of blood hit her hard. The Beast emerged wild and fast, taking control of her mouth and howling with glee before Ruxandra suppressed it again. In the darkness beyond, the prisoners cried out in fear. Whispers came next, voices asking each other what had happened, or if they could see anything.

  The tub in the middle of the dungeon was stained with day-old human blood.

  Blood puddled on the floor, too, dripping from the chains that swung over the tub. Ruxandra remembered the girl who Dorotyas forced to clean the tub, and how the water swirled red down the drain.

  Why does Elizabeth have this?

  Why keep blood in a tub?

  Her mind was muzzy with hunger. All she could think of was storing blood, which made no sense. Elizabeth didn’t drink blood.

  The Beast growled, loud and angry. It wanted control. Ruxandra held it tight. She forgot the tub and approached her old cell. A woman sat in the corner in a pile of straw. Her eyes were wide, trying to pierce the darkness. Ruxandra put the key into the lock and clicked it open.

  “Who’s there?” The woman rose to her feet. “Who is it?”

  Then the Beast took control.

  Shortly after, Ruxandra slipped into the kitchen.

  Jana sat on a stool in the corner of the fireplace, her back against the mantle, her face lit up red by the glowing coals of the fire. She was sound asleep, her head on her chest. Ruxandra looked at her for a moment, feeling a sorrow she couldn’t name, then touched her shoulder. The girl started and sat up, her eyes wide.

  “Shh,” Ruxandra said. “It’s all right.”

  “My lady!” Fear filled the whispered words. “Where were you?”

  “It’s all right,” Ruxandra repeated. “Everything is better.”

  “But . . .”

  “Don’t worry. You don’t have to be scared.”

  “But . . .” Jana swallowed hard. “There’s blood on your shift. And your face.”

  Ruxandra put her hand to her mouth. It came away sticky. Jana reached out and touched the blood spatter on Ruxandra’s shift.

  “I’m sorry,” Ruxandra said. “I thought I’d gotten it all off.”

  Jana put on a shaky smile and nodded. “Yes, my lady.”

  The next evening, Ruxandra met Elizabeth outside of the great hall.

  “We missed you last night,” Elizabeth said.

  “I’m sorry,” Ruxandra said. “The Beast came out.”

  “I see. I thought the girls might have offended you.”

  “Not at all.” The words tumbled fast out of Ruxandra’s mouth, though she wasn’t sure why she so desperately wanted to defend them. “They were very nice.”

  “Good. I take it you need a new servant?”

  “No,” Ruxandra said. “I managed to get down to the dungeon and open the cell before the Beast could escape, as you instructed me.”

  Elizabeth cupped both of Ruxandra’s cheeks. “That’s wonderful! You’re getting stronger every day! How long did you stay the Beast?”

  “Only as long as I fed,” Ruxandra said. “Then I was myself once more.”

  “I am so proud of you.” Elizabeth leaned forward and kissed Ruxandra on the mouth.

  The touch of her was warm and soft and made Ruxandra gasp.

  Elizabeth leaned back and looked into Ruxandra’s wide eyes. She smiled.

  She kissed Ruxandra again, longer, slower, and gentler. The heat spread from Ruxandra’s face to her breasts and her belly and between her legs. Ruxandra kissed her back and leaned in. Her arms went around Elizabeth, gently pulling their bodies together.

  Elizabeth pulled away first and put a finger to Ruxandra’s lips. “Our secret.”

  Ruxandra didn’t understand why—wasn’t Elizabeth the mistress? Everyone did her bidding. She saw how serious Elizabeth looked and nodded.

  “Good.” Elizabeth stepped back and smiled again. “Now I need you to attend classes and learn as much as you can, because King Rudolph has summoned me to Vienna, and I want you to come along.”

  RUXANDRA COULDN’T FATHOM it. “Me? Travel to Vienna?”

  “To King Rudolph’s court, yes.” Elizabeth sighed. “I had hoped he would leave alone matters concerning my estate until spring, but he insists that I come at once. Fortunately, the snow is not deep.”

  Ruxandra suddenly
felt afraid. She had just arrived at the castle, just learned to control the Beast. To go to Vienna . . . She was not afraid of any one person, but many . . .

  “It is a week’s journey, with coach and escort.”

  “I’m not sure I’m ready to leave the castle.”

  Elizabeth’s lips tightened. She looked at the floor a moment before raising her eyes to meet Ruxandra’s. Her face was so full of loneliness it made Ruxandra’s heart ache. “I have enemies in the king’s court, Ruxandra. Enemies who would take my home from me if they could.”

  “How? You’re a Blood Royal. Doesn’t that protect you?”

  “Not from others of the blood,” Elizabeth said. “Not all of us are considered equal, Ruxandra. Some have less and want to take from those who have more. Some have more but are never satisfied. Now they’re coming to take what is mine.”

  Ruxandra frowned. “That’s wrong.”

  “If my husband were alive, they would never dare. They have the ear of the king, and I am but a lone woman. So I must go to him and plead my case.” Elizabeth reached out and took Ruxandra’s hands. “Please. Come with me. Help me protect my lands.”

  Ruxandra shook her head. “How can I help? I know nothing.”

  Elizabeth raised Ruxandra’s hands to her mouth and kissed each. “You know how to kill.”

  Ruxandra pulled her hands back to her chest. “Who would I need to kill?”

  “The ones who are threatening me. The ones who would take my home from me. This is my place, Ruxandra. I won’t lose it.”

  “They’re not peasants. You said I could kill peasants. Not royalty.”

  Elizabeth stepped forward, halving the distance between them. “Do you think I want this? I, who believe so strongly in the importance of bloodlines? Sometimes, it is necessary. One cannot close one’s eyes to the injustice. They must be stopped before they destroy the kingdom with their greed.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I know,” Elizabeth said tenderly. “I do. I know my enemies. I wish this were not happening now—poor innocent Ruxandra—but it is. Will you help me?”

  “I . . .” Why don’t I want to do this? I kill to survive.

 

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