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My Fair Godmother

Page 16

by Janette Rallison


  My head hit the ground with a thud that sent sparks through my darkened eyes. I wanted to cry out. Instead I lay motionless at everyone’s feet.

  The rustle of skirts came toward me. With more annoyance than concern in her voice, the lady-in-waiting said, “She’s fainted.”

  I heard Tristan drop to his knees beside me. “Savannah?”

  I didn’t move.

  He put his hand underneath my head and shook my shoulders in an attempt to wake me.

  I let my eyelids flutter open.

  Tristan’s clear blue eyes searched my face, worry etched into his expression. “Are you all right?”

  I nodded.

  Princess Margaret took several steps so she could look directly down at me. “I’ve had peasants faint when meeting me, but never a noblewoman.” A calculating smile cut across her face. “Are you sure you’re not a peasant?”

  A chill crept down my spine. Did she recognize me?

  She let her gaze run over me, taking in my outfit, face, and hair. As though still talking to Tristan and with a large dose of disdain, she added, “Such a pretty maiden.”

  I sat up, acted as though I was too weak to stand, and lay back against Tristan’s chest. “Perhaps I should lie down somewhere instead of trying to make it to dinner.”

  The worry left Tristan’s voice, replaced by skepticism. “You want to miss dinner?”

  If it meant kissing a bunch of people’s hands, yes. “I don’t think I’m up to it.”

  Into my ear Tristan whispered, “Would you be willing to swear to that in front of the Black Knight?”

  I stiffened, but didn’t answer. It was aggravating how easily he could see through me. “Is there somewhere in the castle that I could lay down?”

  Princess Margaret turned to her lady-in-waiting. “Theodora, take our guest to my room and see that she’s brought some broth and bread for dinner.” A measure of smugness crept into her voice as though she enjoyed depriving me of real food. “I fear anything stronger would upset her stomach.”

  Tristan stood up, then held out his hand to help me to my feet. I didn’t let go of his hand, even after I stood. “Perhaps we’d better just head back home.”

  “I’m sure you’ll be fine,” he said. “I’ll check on you after dinner.”

  Lady Theodora had already curtsied a good-bye to Princess Margaret and was motioning me to follow her, but I hesitated. “You won’t stay long?”

  He let out a chuckle that told me I should know better. “The king’s dinners can go on for a while.”

  Which meant there was no hope of leaving tonight. I dropped his hand from mine with a frustrated sigh.

  Princess Margaret absentmindedly slipped the ring she’d been clutching back onto her finger, her anger at its bestower apparently forgotten. She held out her arm to Tristan. “That leaves you to escort me to dinner. I trust it isn’t an imposition.”

  Without another look in my direction he took Princess Margaret’s arm. “It would be a delight.”

  I would have felt snubbed by all of this, but I was too surprised to allow for any lesser emotions. I’d gotten a glimpse of Princess Margaret’s ring as she held out her arm to Tristan. Three golden hibiscus flowers. It was the ring I’d given Simon.

  Chapter 16

  Lady Theodora walked briskly through the castle hallways. I followed after her several steps behind. I didn’t care that she wasn’t speaking to me or even pretending to be hospitable. My mind was back on the ring and how it had gotten from Simon to Princess Margaret’s finger. Was that who she had been planning to meet? And if so, why? On the other hand, the wizard and his apprentice both sold their wares. It was possible someone had purchased the ring from Simon and given it to Princess Margaret.

  I also thought of Princess Margaret’s proclamation that Tristan was a would-be suitor and the way she’d taken hold of his arm with the self-satisfaction of a cat settling down on a favorite windowsill.

  Lady Theodora reached the doorway of a tower. I could see the beginnings of a circular set of stairs. She turned to me with impatience and said, “This way, m’lady,” then disappeared through the doorway without waiting to see if I followed.

  I went after her, holding up my skirt with one hand and keeping the other on the rough stone wall. The stairs twisted upward, one steep and rugged stone after another. I didn’t dare climb them as fast as Theodora. No banister curved along the wall and if I made one misstep, I’d tumble down the whole thing.

  I heard another set of footsteps echoing down the stairs and then an angry voice. “Is my sister with you? I’ve been looking all over for her and that—”

  “Your majesty,” Theodora cut him off. “I’m taking a guest to Princess Margaret’s room. The former page, Tristan, is escorting your sister to dinner.” Her voice had an edge of contempt when she said Tristan’s name. “He’ll be telling of his adventure with the Black Knight tonight at dinner.”

  “Will he?” the prince said dryly. His voice sounded familiar but I couldn’t tell whether it was the elder brother, Edmond, or his younger brother, Hugh.

  The next moment I rounded the corner and caught up with the two. Prince Hugh looked down at me from several steps above. He seemed unchanged from the time I’d seen him eight months ago. The wavy brown hair, square jaw, confident stance. Your basic Prince Charming.

  He gazed at me, one eyebrow slightly lifted as he took me in. “And you are?”

  “Tired of climbing stairs.” I leaned against the wall, ready to slump into a faint again if he held out his hand for me to kiss. I threw in a curtsy as an afterthought.

  Theodora pointed a reluctant hand in my direction. “This is Lady Savannah. She came from Tristan’s land to bring him funds for his quest.”

  The prince momentarily twisted his lips and a flash of disapproval crossed his face. “Is that so?”

  I curtsied again even though I probably wasn’t supposed to. “Yes, sire.”

  “You are his sister? His betrothed?”

  “No, sire, just a friend.”

  “Certainly you must be more than that to travel such a long distance to bring him funds.”

  “No, sire.”

  “Then you are a very good friend indeed.”

  I blushed. No one would consider me a good friend if they knew I was the one who got Tristan sent here in the first place. “I’m trying to be,” I said.

  His gaze grew intense, his voice a little stiff. “And you are hoping that your friend will be able to defeat the Black Knight?”

  The question stabbed me with remorse. I wasn’t sure anymore, but whether it was Tristan who defeated him or the castle guard who dragged him inside for Edmond to kill, I would be the cause of the Black Knight’s downfall. I swallowed hard, my gaze on the stairs.

  “You don’t have an answer?” Prince Hugh asked, and I blushed again. It was his brother who was being challenged, his family that was in danger. He wasn’t likely to understand my sympathies or feelings of regret.

  My gaze flickered over to his eyes. “I just want Tristan to come home safe and sound.”

  Prince Hugh let out a half-laugh and tilted his head. “Then I suppose you wish for your friend’s defeat.”

  “Why do you say that?” I asked.

  Prince Hugh shrugged as if it was obvious. “If Tristan is able to do all that my father asks, he’ll win my sister’s hand in marriage and live here in the castle.”

  My heartbeat stopped altogether. Tristan was trying to wed Princess Margaret?

  With a growing sickness in my stomach, I chided myself for not figuring it out beforehand. What had I expected? That after Tristan had destroyed the cyclops, killed the dragon, and beaten the Black Knight, King Roderick would just hand over part of his kingdom for Tristan to rule? Tristan was going to be made a prince by marrying a princess. That’s how all the fairy tales worked.

  Prince Hugh’s gaze turned concerned and he took a step toward me. “Are you well?”

  “She’s feeling ill,” Theodora
said. “That’s why she’s going to Princess Margaret’s room to lie down.”

  “See to it before she topples down the stairs.”

  The prince pressed himself against the wall in order to let us pass, but I didn’t move. I just stared at him. All of this was so that Tristan could marry Princess Margaret? I was helping Tristan to become Prince Edmond’s brother-in-law? Ironic, since if I’d married Prince Edmond, I would have been his sister-in-law.

  Prince Hugh took hold of my arm and half-pulled, half-led me the rest of the way up the stairs to the princess’s room. He told me that he wished for my speedy recovery, but I hardly heard anything he said.

  • • •

  Princess Margaret’s room was on the top floor of the tower. A tapestry depicting unicorns lay against one wall, a fireplace stood at the other. That’s how you know you’re royalty. You have your own fireplace in your room.

  Her bed had an ornately carved frame, and linen hangings were tied back to the bedposts. Two less glamorous beds— pallets, they called them, lay in the room; I supposed for her attendants.

  I laid down on one of the pallets while Lady Theodora busied herself with starting a fire. I didn’t want to talk to Theodora about Tristan. I already knew her opinion of him, but as the fire began to catch hold of the larger logs in the fireplace, I asked, “Are Tristan and Princess Margaret . . . fond of each other?”

  Lady Theodora turned to me with indifferent eyes. “It’s not my place to talk about the princess.” She stood up and brushed off her skirt. “I’ll ask one of the kitchen girls to bring up bread and broth for you presently.”

  She swept out of the room and I was left to sit on the cold pallet and watch the light from the windows grow dimmer and dimmer until all I could see out of them were the pinpricks of stars. Eventually a young servant girl brought me a small loaf of bread and a bowl of broth. Both cold. I thanked her anyway and ate it. I’d had worse in the Middle Ages.

  I didn’t expect to fall asleep, but I did. I dreamed that, along with the entire high school, I was at Tristan’s and Princess Margaret’s wedding. They walked down the aisle and everyone clapped and threw rice while I stood there trying to catch his attention. I wanted to talk to him desperately, I wanted to tell him not to do it, but he never looked at me.

  Then the Black Knight was behind me. I couldn’t see him but I recognized his voice, smooth and silky, whispering into my ear, “It’s all right.” His hand ran down the length of my arm. “I’m the one you really came to the Middle Ages to find.”

  His fingers intertwined with mine and he held my hand tightly. “I’m what you’ve wanted all along.”

  I leaned against him, happy that he was there and that he wanted to hold my hand. I knew I could turn and see his face, learn his identity, but instead I just stared after Tristan and wondered why he wouldn’t look at me.

  I was awakened by the sound of the door scraping open. I blinked in the darkness, for a moment not remembering where I was.

  Then I sat bolt upright, half expecting to see the Black Knight, but Tristan walked in the room, holding a torch. The shadows flickered across his face, making him look handsome one moment, sinister the next. “Are you awake?” he asked.

  A chill had taken hold of the room. The fire had almost gone completely out. I pulled the blanket around my shoulders. “Yes.”

  After he attached the torch to a wall holder—where it did little to dismiss the darkness—he walked to the fireplace, threw a log on the embers, and nudged it with a poker until it crackled to life. Then he sat down on the pallet beside me and pulled something from his pocket. “Since you chickened out and hid in here instead of telling your side of the Black Knight story, I brought you some dinner.”

  He held out something to me, some sort of pastry, but I couldn’t tell what it was. I thanked him and bit into it anyway. A meat pie. It tasted savory and rich and I kept it on my tongue just to enjoy the taste of it.

  Tristan leaned back on his hands. “In case you’re wondering how the story of Lady Savannah’s rescue went, I found you in the forest by following your cries. You were horribly frightened— pathetic, really—and getting ready to flee for your life. The Black Knight and I raised swords, circling one another and yelling threats, but we didn’t fight because you begged me not to duel while I didn’t have armor on.”

  He tilted his chin down and smiled. “That, of course, took all of your maidenly persuasion because I am so immensely brave. But I gave you my word and now I fear I can never sword fight with the Black Knight lest I break my promise to you. When the time comes to challenge him, I will have to find some other method of defeating him. Which works out well for me, since I never wanted to cross swords with him in the first place.”

  I popped the last of the meat pie into my mouth and didn’t say anything.

  “The Black Knight, awed by my bravery, ran off. Then you clung to me all the way home, sobbing with gratitude and promising never to speak to knavish rogues again. It was beautiful. The crowd loved it.”

  I still didn’t say anything, just gave him a considering stare. Behind us, the fire grew in strength and spit out sparks onto the mantle.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Oh, nothing. I was just thinking about how awkward it will be to go to prom with you, considering you’ll be married at the time.”

  “Ah,” he said. “Lady Theodora told you about the details of the king’s reward for his quest.”

  I brushed the crumbs off my hands and kept my voice even. “What exactly were you planning on doing with your wife during our date?”

  “I was planning that as soon as Princess Margaret and I married, I would be zapped back to the future and she could get an annulment.”

  I watched the way the light from the fire made Tristan’s features glow and tried not to imagine Princess Margaret standing beside him in a wedding dress. “I should warn you that my fairy godmother is slow about getting back to people. So you could be married for weeks before she gets around to bringing you home.”

  Tristan sent me a rakish smile and shrugged. “Then I guess I’ll have time to enjoy all of the wedding feasting.”

  Which irked me in ways I couldn’t explain. “Are you saying you want to marry Princess Margaret?”

  He looked upward as though contemplating it. “Well, she is royalty . . . and you were just telling me how a crown makes a person totally hot and prom worthy.”

  “I never said that.”

  He leaned closer to me. “You might as well have. You thought it. That’s why I’m here—because no one but a prince was good enough to take you out.”

  I stood up and walked away from him, glad that in the low light he couldn’t see my face flush. “Fine, go ahead and marry her then. She’s a conceited shrew but I’m sure you’ll be very happy with her.”

  He shrugged, still relaxed. “Maybe not, but I’ll be happy to see you bowing every time I go by.”

  “You won’t have the chance because I won’t come near you after you’re married.”

  Tristan stood, walked to the door, and took the torch from the wall. “Oh, I know we’ll see each other again, because we still have a prom date set up.”

  He left the room, taking a good portion of the light with him.

  Princess Margaret and Lady Theodora came into the room about a half hour later. Even though I was still completely dressed, I pretended to be asleep so I wouldn’t have to talk to them. I didn’t sleep though. Not until long after the two of them were softly snoring in their respective corners of the room.

  I lay there with my eyes pressed together tightly. I’d come back to the Middle Ages—back to a place that I hated—to help Tristan, but somehow that didn’t matter to him. He was never going to forgive me for sending him here in the first place.

  What’s more, now that I had time to think about it— replaying it in my mind, perhaps more than was necessary—I was convinced that if I had turned around and looked at the Black Knight in my dream, I would have someho
w found out his identity. But I hadn’t turned around because I’d been so busy staring at Tristan, trying to tell him not to marry that horrible, awful woman.

  He wouldn’t mind the feasting. I bet. Men.

  I tried to erase thoughts of Tristan. I thought of my dream again and wondered if the Black Knight’s words were true. Was he what I’d been looking for all along?

  Chapter 17

  In the morning, before I’d even gotten off the pallet, Princess Margaret was up, dressed, and shaking her head at me. “I need not ask how you fare this morning. Your face is sickly and gaunt.”

  “I’m sure I’ll be up to traveling.”

  She sent me a condescending smile. “Nay, you must rest this day. I insist.”

  I opened my mouth to argue, then shut it again. I’d already learned from my stint as Cinderella that when someone of greater rank gave you an order, you didn’t have a choice. So I was stuck here for the time being even though I was pretty sure Princess Margaret was only declaring me sick in order to torment me.

  Had she known I was faking it at first—perhaps Tristan even told her as much—and so now she thought this was fitting punishment? Or maybe she had feelings for Tristan and didn’t like that I’d suddenly shown up and taken his attention away from her. Or maybe she just hated me because I was pretty.

  “Will you tell Tristan I’d like to talk with him?”

  She paused before leaving the room and smiled at me. “Of course.”

  Hours went by and he didn’t come. I wasn’t sure if this was because he was angry about the things we’d said last night or because Princess Margaret just hadn’t told him I’d asked in the first place. I would have gone to try and find him, but Princess Margaret had left Lady Theodora to tend to my needs, and she seemed to think I shouldn’t venture far out of bed at all.

  She sat on a bench in the corner somehow transforming a formless pile of wool into thread, then spinning it around a wooden spool. Her fingers rubbed together, twisting and stretching the fibers, and never seemed to tire.

  At midday a servant brought Lady Theodora a spread of meats and bread. I got more cold broth.

 

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