Sing For Me

by Ellabee Andrews

  I quietly walk away, ignoring their weak protests calling out to me, and soon catch up with the queen and my parents. Eyebrows raised at the tears that shine in my eyes, the queen does nothing but sniff, her nose pointed toward the ceiling before continuing through another ornately designed door into another overly done hallway. It looks like the countless ones we’ve already traveled through, but I don’t even pay attention.

  With everything I’ve just learned now running through my mind, and the knowledge that Bailey is still out there and most definitely plotting my demise, all I can do is follow along as I let my mind stray as I listen to my rapidly beating, aching heart.

  A week passes, and with exception of a short trip to town for some clothes, I stay sequestered away in my room. Unwilling to take visitors as I work through what is expected of me in this new role. Draga visits often, and we become fast friends, though the void left by Sal seems to grow each day I go without speaking with her in this new place.

  The queen never comes to my chambers, she has her handmaid deliver summons when she requests my presence, and I’m content to ignore her as well. We’ll be having a chat soon, one that I don’t foresee going well, since I plan on telling her that I will not be participating in some kind of arranged marriage. My resurfacing memories tell me that I wasn’t okay with the idea as a child, and I don’t even have many memories of my time growing up here, and their customs. The ones I do have though, usually involve a brown haired boy with smiling eyes, and beautiful wings that would catch the light when he shifted and we flew together. A boy I had promised that I’d make my own rules for.

  Thinking of Kendric, and how we had been, causes my breath to catch, because I don’t only mourn the loss of our childhood friendship, but the idea that we could have had that again if life hadn't changed us both so much. And unfortunately, thoughts of him always lead to Arius and Daruk as well. Both of whom had been so kind, and rescued me, but had also kept a huge secret away from me. One, that could have possibly made me think twice before returning home.

  Frustrated at where my thoughts have led me, again, I throw down the knitting needles, a ladylike ‘hobby’ Queen Merryweather had insisted I learn, and begin to pace around my large room. Circling the circle bed with its sheer curtains that are draped around it. I make it three whole passes before I hear a faint knock at the door, and I have to force away my look of annoyance. If this is just another request from the queen to do something else I’m against, I may just fly out the window and run away.

  Opening the door I find that the small mouse shifter that normally awaits me with a filigreed envelope in hand, is not there. Instead, I come face first to a large, broad chest, that goes up into a well developed neck, and shoulders, ending on a face that could never be described as anything but masculine. With skin like the night, though without the beautiful white swatches of pale flesh mixed in, I come to the sudden realization that this must be Drakson. My Betrothed.

  Lifting a brow, but not seeming bothered by my silence, Drakson flashes a smile at me before taking my hand and placing a kiss into my palm. It makes my skin crawl when he touches me, and I want nothing more than to yank my hand away and rub it against my pants until I feel clean again.

  It’s not that he’s ugly, it’s more the accompanying look he’s giving me. Like he’s entitled to me, or that I’m already his.

  “Princess Lorelei, your beauty proceeds you. I must say, I was very pleased to learn of your return, and that you’ve grown into such an exquisite creature. I’m Drakson, but don’t be nervous. I’ll take very good care of you,” he says, his voice dipping low at the end and causing bile to rise in my throat as disgust fills me at his words.

  Yet, since I have no good options but to play nice, I don’t cringe like I want to. Instead, I smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Drakson. Did you need something?” I ask, getting straight to the point.

  For the first time since his arrival, I see his kind facade slip, annoyance shining through, before going back in place. “Oh, you misunderstand why I’m here. I just wanted to introduce myself before dinner. No need for you to be confused about whose side you will be sitting at,” he says, voice condescending. I barely resist the urge to roll my eyes.

  “I wasn’t aware there’d be assigned seats. But if that’s the case, then I will see you later. I’d love to talk more, but I need to wash my hair,” I respond, already shutting the door and forcing him to back up a step. He halts my progress when his hand shoots out and grips the door frame.

  Eyes narrowing slightly, I meet his gaze, shuddering at his cool stare. “Yes, I’m sure you have things to prepare. But make sure you wear black. That’s the color of my armor, and I think we should be coordinated to show a united front. Ease our kingdoms’ minds and leave no doubt about our upcoming nuptials. You can do that, right Princess?”

  Temper rising, and hating how he calls me “Princess” like Kendric does, I squeeze my hands in an effort not to wring his neck. But I can only nod. Not trusting whatever words will spew from my mouth before I can stop them, he seems content with that. He just reaches out and runs his finger down my chin and to the line of my neck. He seems like he’ll go further, but I pull away and shut the door in his face before he can. I’ll probably catch a lecture for being rude to the Wendigo Prince, but I don’t care. The lecture would have been a lot worse if I had physically maimed him. And since that’s what my thoughts were telling me to do, I had chosen the lesser of evils.

  “Tell me again, why is this necessary?”

  Laughing at the whine in my voice, Draga spins, proving how perfect her balance is that the book that’s placed on top of her head barely moves. Mine, on the other hand, seems to be weighted and incapable of remaining still. With as many times as it has landed and hit it, I’m going to have a hell of a bruise on top of my foot by the time this is through.

  “Because, Princess, royalty must present themselves in the best light possible. That means perfect posture to enhance and show off the line of your neck and so that your breasts are displayed in a way that is demure, but also enticing. You have to be wanted, but untouchable,” she replies, not missing a beat and she hops over a small stump that lies in the castle garden.

  It’s a beautiful place, and I’m instantly grateful to Draga for pulling me from my room and bringing me out here. Even if she did so with ulterior motives. Hence, the book that’s currently sliding from my head.

  “Damn it!” I shout, the heavy tome landing in the exact same spot on my foot as it has the previous two times, and I lean down to rub it. Too angry at the leather book to try again, I just pick it up and tuck it under my arm as we continue to walk along.

  “Daruk was asking about you today. He said Drakson mentioned paying you a visit, and was worried about how our pigheaded brother may act. You okay?”

  Breathing in deep, I take a second before answering. I’m still upset that they didn’t tell me about my ‘betrothal’, but Draga had explained days ago that it wasn’t their fault. The queen had ordered them not to.

  “Yes, he did stop by. And yeah, pigheaded is a pretty good description of him,” I finally answer her, though I keep to myself how much the mention of Daruk makes my heart miss all of them with a fresh ache.

  Eyeing me curiously; as if waiting for me to say more, Draga just walks to my side silently. I’m ready to break, to tell her that I’d like to speak with them, when before me, the green of the garden gives way to mist and a rainbow of light that stretches across the sky in a myriad of colors. Transfixed by the beauty, I walk toward a sprawling fence and eye what’s on the other side, breath catching and tears forming at the absolutely stunning view.

  “It’s gorgeous isn’t it? It’s one of the reasons Aviary has never been conquered before. No one can breach it,” she says, but I can barely hear her as I take in the fluffy white clouds that the garden has melted into, and the view of the land, far, far, below.

  Since I’ve only been into town once, and that is at the center of the
kingdom, I haven’t seen how Aviary is actually situated. Now, however, I know that it’s not on land at all, but floating above it. Suspended as if the clouds themselves nestle it into their soft embrace.

  Stunned, I turn to look at where Draga stands beside me, her face tranquil as she looks out across the vast blue sky before us. “How is this possible? I mean, we entered through a tunnel! I think I would have noticed flying up here,” I say, and she laughs.

  “That, my friend, is magic. The tunnel itself is on the ground. But the door is actually a portal. One that cuts across space and time to bring its inhabitants here.”

  I let that sink in. As a Nightingale, I’m not unused to magic, since it’s a part of me, but I guess it’s never occurred to me just how much could be out there. To be able to float an entire kingdom… it’s hard to fathom. Despite seeing it with my own eyes

  Prying my gaze away from the misting falls that the light plays through, I look back at Draga. She’s no longer watching the skyline, but is focused intently on my face. “What?” I ask, and she almost seems to reanimate before me, life sparking back into her intelligent eyes, before shaking her head.

  “Sorry, I uh… must have zoned out for a minute. Listen, I need to head back. I just remembered I have some things to take care of. You ready?”

  Unwilling to give up the peace I’ve found among the clouds, I shake my head. “I think I’m going to stay out here for a while. You go on. I know my way back,” I say, and I can see the indecision at leaving me alone in her eyes. “Seriously, I’m good. Besides, I doubt Bailey’s just going to pop up out of nowhere and grab me. And if he does? I’ve got this to fend him off with,” I say, holding up the heavy book, only partially joking. My foot still hurts from the hits it received from it.

  Seeming to make up her mind, she nods. “Okay, but if you need anything, there are always guards out and about. Just call and they’ll be there.”

  We share a hug, during which, my eyes scan the surrounding area for the guards she speaks of, but when I don’t see any hiding behind a bush, I give up searching. It is a useless idea anyways. If they’re easy for someone with an untrained eye to see, I’d second guess their abilities to guard a castle.

  Draga finally leaves after more reassurances that I’ll be fine, and once she does, I walk over to a tree that sits at the edge of the fence, so close to the pillow like clouds that I reach out my hand and run it through it. I don’t really have any expectations, but when all that meets my fingers is a cooler, almost damp air, I withdraw before laying my hand in my lap and staring off.

  “Mr. Barney? Why did my parents give me up? Did they not love me?”

  Dressed and ready for rehearsal, I stand there, my twelfth birthday, but at that moment, I feel like a child much younger.

  It’s always like this on my birthday, thoughts of why I wasn’t good enough ruining my day, and making me wish for it to just speed by.

  Turning from the man in a suit he speaks to, shivering at the way the strange man stares at me in my thin costume, I hang my head at Barney’s disapproving look.

  “I’ll have to get back with you, Senator. But right now, I think I’ll have to decline your offer, as enticing as it may be. I’m in it for the long game. One where I savor the sweet nectar and relish the rewards of my patience,” Barney tells the man, still not addressing me, and I start to get scared as I think about how angry he is with me.

  Leaning in and whispering something into Barney’s ear, the man takes one last long considering look at me before turning to walk away. Two big men falling in behind him at his sides, and exiting the small practice tent.

  Looking back at Barney when they move out of view, prepared to apologize for interrupting his conversation, I don’t even have time to throw up my arms before he brings his hand up and slaps me across my face. Sending me falling to the floor as tears and pain mix.

  Squatting down next to where I cower on the ground, he reaches out and I flinch from his touch, the tang of blood thick on my tongue. “Don’t be afraid my little songbird. I won’t hurt you,” he tells me as he grips my chin painfully between his fingers, his actions not mimicking his words. “But, if you ever disobey, disrespect, or interrupt my affairs again, the punishment you’ve received just now will look like a walk in the park. Do you understand?”

  Unable to shake my head with his grip still holding me, I tremble in his bruising grasp. “I understand, Mr. Barney,” I say, the words hard to get out past his hold.

  Eyeing me for a long moment, I’m afraid of what else he will do, but then he leans in and puts his mouth right beside my good ear. “That’s a good Nightingale. Now, I can’t have you remembering this and hating me can I? No, that simply won’t work. You’re going to go to sleep, and when you wake, you’ll do so thinking Catrine did this. Between the two of us, I think she’s jealous, and that’s exactly what you’ll believe as well. But, you’ll also know not to defy me again, if not why. I’ve got big plans for you, Princess. Now sleep!”

  A small tapping at my hand wakes me, and I look around disoriented, not knowing where I am. It takes me a moment to remember that I’m in the garden, the fence at my side and tree at my back, and when I look over, I find a large hawk.

  Brown feathers, and intelligent eyes, I have so much that I want to say to Kendric at that moment. To tell him of the memory I’ve just recovered, and how I don’t even know how much I may have suffered under the heavy hand of Bailey, but before I can open my mouth and confess to him all these things, to talk to him like I did as a child confiding in her friend and confidant, he gives a small screech, before lifting up into the air and flying off to a distant tree.

  He lands on a high branch, his sharp eyes sweeping the area, and I have a second to wonder if he’s one of the elusive guards Draga mentioned watching the area. Or if, like he had planned to do when I was a child, has taken up the mantle of responsibility of watching over me.

  As I walk back toward the tower doors, wiping the tears the dream caused from my cheeks, I do so with a feeling of security knowing my protector is watching over me.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “The queen will see you now,” Lyla, the queen’s handmaid says, and I straighten my spine, prepared to tell her that I will not be going through with an arranged marriage.

  I have been requesting an audience with her for a week, and now that it’s finally come time to speak with her, to broach the topic I’m sure will not lead to a pleasant conversation, I find I’m extremely nervous.

  Maybe it would have been easier if my parents were with me, supporting the decision, but I learned quickly that they are loyal subjects first, my parents second. Not that they have been mean. Quite the opposite actually. It was like they were trying so desperately to make up for lost times, they almost treated me the way you would a child, and though I love having them in my life, I found myself frustrated with them on more than one occasion. Especially since they always seem to work into our talks how amazing my aunt is as queen, and how she is the perfect example of what I should aim to be if I want to be a successful queen.

  Interrupting my thoughts about the dinner I’m supposed to have with them and the queen later this evening, I walk through the door at Lyla’s beckoning, and step into an office that has more of a subtle elegance than the rest of the overdone castle. It gives me hope that just maybe, in here at least, she won’t be the cold figurehead I’ve come to know.

  Bookshelves line two of the walls, and small paintings are placed at intervals, some showing renderings of the castle I stand within, but smaller. Lamps are set on the two end tables I see, and sconces light the rest of the room, creating a soft glow that washes across the space.

  As I continue to eye the office, I think I see a movement out of the corner of my eye, but when I turn to look, all I find is an antique armoire sitting in a corner with brass, or gold, knobs on the doors. Nothing else is over in the dark corner.

  “Lyla tells me you’ve been quite persistent in your demands to come
here. So, what bothers you, child? Why the urgency?” Sitting behind a large ivory desk, Aunt Merryweather doesn’t look any less imposing here than on her throne, and I take a deep breath before moving forward and stopping in front of her.

  Figuring respectful is the best way to go, I give a small bow like I’ve seen my mother do before meeting her eyes. “Thank you, Aunt Merryweather. I know you’re very busy, so I appreciate you taking the time to meet with me.”

  Eyeing me from over her papers, I wonder if she’ll send me away, but then she lays down the pen she’s holding. “Have a seat. Would you care for refreshments? Lyla can retrieve some if you’d like.”

  Still uncomfortable with the idea of having people wait on me hand and foot, I decline. “No, thank you. I’d hate to spoil my appetite before dinner this evening.”

  I receive a look of approval at my response. I had spent a few hours thinking on how this conversation would go, and knew that I needed to start this meeting off as well as possible. Playing to her sense of etiquette is a good way to do it.

  “Yes, you’re quite right. It would be unbecoming if the princess refused to eat the dinner her guests are served. I’m glad to see you’ve been taking your time with Princess Dragamina to learn the behavior expected of a princess. The Frost Kingdom, where the Wendigo hail from, may not be a match to ours in beauty or defensive positions, but they are well bred on how a royal should present themselves. The union between you and Prince Drakson will be mutually beneficial for both of our kingdoms.”