Pudge snorted. “Will you move along already? Ivy might need that hand for something.”
“Don’t be jealous, brother. I’ll miss your beautiful smile, too.” Honour patted his back and walked away.
Once everyone loaded onto the ship, the crew pulled up the plank and raised the anchors. Men rushed around on deck to get the sails hoisted while Honour hollered out orders from his place behind the ship’s wheel. Boom! Cannons from the warships fired in a Sending Off celebration, and the wood planks rattled beneath my feet.
Cheers rang from the docks, and I couldn’t help but think that I was watching my future sail away without me. However, I reminded myself I could still do good as part of the royal family. I’d find a way to make a difference.
“Don’t worry, Ivy. You’ll get your day.” Pudge gave me a squeeze.
Birdie glanced my way, eyes sharp as assassin’s blades. I had a feeling she’d have me murdered if she thought she could get away with it.
“Guess I know what I’ll be doing while they’re gone,” I said, butterflies sputtering in my tummy. “Planning a wedding.”
He squeezed my shoulder. “Yeah. Not sure how much help I’ll be, but if you need anything…”
Face flushed, I grabbed his arm. “Let’s head to the practice grounds. I’ve got to do something to keep busy while they’re gone.”
He nodded, hurrying after me. I had no idea what the following days would bring, but I wasn’t about to give up my training. The Hag marked me, and I still didn’t know what for.
Chapter Eleven
Headmistress Kimblay stood at the front of the class, mouth drawn into a tight smile. She glanced around the room, her gaze catching mine.
“Don’t forget tomorrow is your final testing for the year. For some of you, it will be the last test you take in my classroom. Then it will be out into the real world with you.”
Shifting in my seat, I stared around the room. The class seemed empty since the Mission. Dorian and the others had been gone three weeks now. This meant Kimblay focused more attention on me—something I didn’t like. But after tomorrow, I wouldn’t have to deal with her anymore. Instead, I’d fill my days being measured and fitted for my wedding gown. Which, if I was honest, made me all kinds of nervous. And Cook would likely find chores to keep me busy when I wasn’t at the weapons course with Captain Bushwell. Just because I was going to be a princess didn’t mean I shouldn’t be able to fight.
Kimblay continued to talk to the class, but I tuned her out, wondering when Cook would remember I hadn’t talked to Father yet. Not that either of them had been around much as of late. Pudge and I spent day and night together, either at his house or mine while they were in meetings.
So over the next few hours we sat listening to Kimblay’s lectures and took notes for our test.
When class finished, I hurried outside, where Grr stood waiting for me. His tail wagged when he saw me, and he trotted over, nudging my leg with his head.
“Hey, boy.” My fingers scratched behind his ears.
“Lady Ivy!” Amos shouted, running up from behind as we approached the main gate.
I pivoted to face him. “Hi. What’s going on?”
He reached under his cloak and pulled out a scroll. “Prince Dorian sent this to you in my care. He wanted to make sure you got it.”
I took it from him, noticing the green wax seal securing it shut. “Thank you.”
“Take care of yourself, Ivy.” He smiled, then hurried away as fast as he’d come.
“Well, aren’t you going to read it?” Pudge leaned closer to me.
My heart thudded against my ribs. Hag, what if he was in trouble? Or what if he wanted to tell me that he changed his mind about marrying me?
Taking a deep breath, I opened it.
Dearest Ivy,
I want to apologize if I caught you off guard during the Sending Off. That wasn’t my intent. I’m not sure if you were upset or happy with the engagement, but I hope the latter. There’s so much going on—things you need to know. Things our fathers have kept secret that I have recently found out. Hag knows you deserve the truth. But I cannot give that to you on paper. It’s too dangerous. However, I suggest you demand an audience with my father at once. Tell him you need to know the truth. We will have things that need to be sorted once I am home. But for now, I wish you happiness and hope time goes by quickly so we might be together again soon.
Yours,
Dorian
I glanced at Pudge. What in the hell did this mean?
“C’mon, tell me what he wants.” Pudge reached for the parchment.
I handed it to him, eyebrows raised. “Wonder what kind of trouble I’ll get into if I race in there now and tell the king I want answers.” My father would probably indenture me to a lifetime of gutter work.
Pudge handed it back. “I think you should do it.”
“Are you mad?”
“No. He wouldn’t have sent you the letter if he didn’t think it was important.”
Shoving it into my pouch, I groaned. “I can’t believe I’m letting you talk me into this.”
With Grr in tow, we headed back toward the palace. When we arrived, the guards waved us through. Voices echoed from the grounds, soldiers finishing their training and servants carrying a butchered pig toward the palace kitchens, preparing for the final meal of the night.
Once inside, we moved down the long hallway. Candlelight flickered off the suits of armor, flashing silver sprays of light over paintings decorating the way to the throne room. The closer we got, the sweatier my palms became, and I wiped them on my gown.
We were stopped at the door of the throne room by two guards holding battle-axes. They looked like a pair of oxen ready to stomp over us.
“I’d like to request an audience with the king.” I stood straighter. Pudge and Grr waited on either side of me, like my own retinue.
“Lady Ivy.” One of the guards bowed. “The king has ordered that he not be disturbed.”
Well, that certainly put a damper on things. “Can you let him know I’ve stopped in and would like to see him at his earliest convenience?” A part of me considered trying my luck and pushing through. But the vision of their axe blades taking my head off made me reconsider.
“Of course.” The guard bowed once more.
I glanced up to see Councilor Dundry, Birdie’s father, eyeing me before disappearing down the hall. Then a cool breeze brushed past my cheek.
Where was he going in such a hurry? And why was he slinking about? My tattoo tingled. But before I could move to follow him, Cook rounded the corner.
“There ye are. Kimblay said she’d let ye out of class already. Thought I’d come along and make sure ye got home on time.” She grinned.
More like Father had probably sent her. My gaze shifted to where Councilor Dundry had disappeared. I’d have to save any suspicions I had of him for another day.
When we got back to the house, Father stood waiting for us. “Good, you’re home. I hope you’re ready for your testing tomorrow.”
“Yes. We’ve been studying all week.” I motioned to Pudge. I was surprised they hadn’t squashed all of our alone time, now that I was engaged.
“Very good. Cook said you wanted to talk to me about something important?” Father’s gaze held mine.
Damn! I knew Cook had a reason for marching up to retrieve me from school.
Cook cleared her throat. “Go on then. Show him.”
Pudge went still, backing away from us, while Grr stood where he was.
Father watched me. “Show me what?”
Sucking in a lungful of air, I turned so my back was to him and lifted my hair to reveal the tattoo.
“This,” I said in a soft voice.
He gasped. “Why wasn’t this brought to my attention sooner?”
“I wanted
to wait until after the Sending Off.”
“That was weeks ago. Did it not occur to either of you that this was of importance?”
“Sorry, that was my fault. I made Cook promise not to tell—not until I was ready. You had so many other things going on.”
“I should’ve been made aware the moment it happened.” My father traced the mark with his fingers, then stepped away to grab his cloak. “This certainly changes things.”
Chapter Twelve
With cloak in hand, Father stared at me, his eyes worried. “Before I go rushing out of here, would you mind explaining how you got that tattoo?”
“It happened the night I snuck into the Archives.” I went on to explain the statues and the dog.
“Does anyone else know?” Father asked.
My hands clenched the fabric of my skirts. “Just those in this room,” I said.
“Good.” He grabbed hold of my sleeve, then bent down so his face was level with mine. “Don’t speak a word of it to anyone else,” he ordered in a sharp voice.
I attempted to back away. “I won’t, but will you tell me what’s happening?”
Father frowned. “I need to get to the palace and speak to the king.” He turned away. “Cook, make sure she stays in for the rest of the night. I’ll see Pudge home.”
He hurried out the door with Pudge in tow. Something more was going on. And Father didn’t want me to know. Hag, I was sick of secrets.
“Off to your room with ye.” Cook ushered me toward the stairs. “I’ll be up with dinner and tea in a moment.”
Wetting my lips, I said, “Cook, what’s going on?”
“Nothing that concerns ye this second. Now get upstairs before I have yer head.” She glared, sending me scurrying up to my bedroom.
What were they hiding? Grr and I went to my room, where I tossed my leather purse and cloak onto the bed. As I cupped my hands around a candle, a flame leaped from the wick as magic pulsated from my fingertips, causing light to dance off the walls.
Once I lit more candles, I moved to my purse and took out the scroll from Dorian. Why did he need me to speak to his father so badly? Nothing made sense. Was it about our wedding? Or something to do with the Mission? Son of a beast, it could be anything.
With a sigh, I opened my armoire and pulled open the hidden door at the back, exchanging the note for a book. Where There Be Humans. Grr eyed me, then the book, and growled.
“Don’t look at me like that. I can read what I want.” I plopped down on my bed.
He grabbed it from my hand, shaking his head back and forth like he’d caught a beast and was trying to kill it.
“No!” I leaped to my feet, reaching for it. “Give it back.”
He rushed across the room and dropped it on the floor. The pages blew open, turning of their own accord…then stopped.
Taking a deep breath, I dropped to my knees and read.
Humans are hunters. They kill that which scares them. Over the centuries, humans have been romanticized in fantasies—their beauty and cunning and strength the downfall of many a race. And yet we desire them. We search for them, wondering what a life in their world could be like. Be warned, my wayward friend, that what it is you seek is dangerous. Yet I know my words will not deter you. You must see for yourself.
My pulse quickened, and I stared at the pictures. One showed a goblin in a cage, human men with spears poking him. Another showed a tournament, where a pretty human clung to a goblin man and others tried to rip them apart.
The door swung open, and Cook came in, carrying a tray of food. Eyes wide, I kicked at the book, trying to get it under my bed. But she saw it and set the tray on the table.
She bent down, arse tilted toward the sky for all to see, and picked it up. “Are ye mad?”
“I can explain—”
“The last thing yer father needs is to see ye reading this garbage.” Her glare held me motionless. “Ye know the rules. No fairy tales allowed in the house. Do ye really want to see what it’s like to be imprisoned? Because that’s exactly what’ll happen. This is outlawed. Goblins have gone to prison for having books like this. If Gob Benchley sold ye this black-market shite, I swear to all that’s holy I’ll run him through with a blade.” She shoved it in her apron pocket and stomped from the room.
Grr whimpered, and I patted his head. “Don’t worry, boy. She’s not mad at you.”
I sat at the table and glanced at the chicken and potatoes, which I mostly picked at, waiting for my father to come home. But the hours ticked by with no sign of him. What could he and the king possibly have to talk about for this long?
…
Creak-thump. Cook ripped open my shutters, letting in the early evening breeze. “Going to be a big night for you,” she said.
“Don’t remind me,” I groaned. It’d been over a month since I’d shown Father my tattoo and two months since the others had left on their Mission. Where had time gone?
Servants came in, carrying buckets of steaming water for my bath. My stomach did a nervous somersault. Today was the day. Hard to believe Dorian and the others would return from their travels already. What if Dorian had changed his mind about me in that time? I’d be humiliated. Biting back the tension, I forced myself to focus on something else. Anything else.
Amos had seemed jittery last night. Something about getting no word from Sergeant Sovner since they’d left with the younglings. But I shouldn’t be worried; Dorian was an excellent swordsman. My gaze shifted to the gown hanging on a hook near my armoire. The Choosing Ceremony would take place tonight, as soon as the gobs on the Mission came up the docks. A joint celebration. At least I didn’t have to go through the hassle of the Choosing Ceremony, since Dorian already spoke up for me, but Pudge would find out his fate tonight. A fate that would no longer be intertwined with my own. Sadness washed over me.
Marriage was not what I originally saw in my future. I wanted more. But I knew it could be way worse. I could’ve been paired with someone awful, like Vane. I could have a good life with Dorian. He was handsome, strong, kind, and he cared about our kingdom. So tonight, when I said my marriage vows in front of everyone in Gob Hollow, I’d do so with a smile.
“We’re on a schedule, Ivy. Now get yer lazy arse out of bed.” Cook ripped the blankets off me and grabbed my arm. “We will not be late to the ceremony.”
Flailing, I managed to get my feet on the floor before having my arm jerked out of its socket. “I’m up. Did you consider I might be trying to cherish my last free moments as a single goblin?”
Cook gave a snort. “Ye act as if yer a pig going off to slaughter.”
“Aren’t I?”
“No more of that poppycock. Get in the tub or I’ll be puttin’ ye in there myself.”
I scrambled to get my pajamas off, then hurried across the room, where I stepped into the steaming water. The heat nearly burned my skin off. “Witch’s brew, are you trying to boil me alive?” I yelped, hopping from one foot to the other.
“Quit yer bellyaching and get washed. I’ll be up in a bit to help ye get dressed.” Cook left the room, securing the door behind her.
I stood there, arms wrapped around my chest, letting my feet get used to the water before sliding the rest of the way in. Once seated, the water relaxed me—or at least loosened the tension in my muscles.
How could time have passed so quickly? It seemed like yesterday that Dorian had proposed, changing my future. Two whole months had gone by. And I never got a chance to speak to the king or figure out what Father knew about the tattoo—or more like Father didn’t want to talk about it. There’d been constant meetings, both secret and otherwise. It was like he was purposely avoiding me.
Nope, I’d spent weeks running into Birdie and her horrid friends. She chatted about Dorian and how he’d eventually realize he’d made a mistake in choosing me. Birdie said she was sure the whole
thing had been a ruse, as there was no way they’d let a halfer be married into the royal family. Luckily, Pudge had been there to keep me from doing anything drastic.
With cloth in hand, I scrubbed my skin, the scent of roses wafting around me.
Cook came back in with some fruit and goat milk. “’Bout time ye be getting out of there. Don’t need to look like a wrinkled tit when ye’re saying yer vows.”
“And here I thought I might miss you.” I narrowed my eyes at her. “Can’t I enjoy a few more minutes?”
“No time for that.” She handed me a large linen cloth. “Get dried off.”
Cool air kissed my skin as I climbed out. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I glanced at the trunks already packed with my belongings. Once I said my vow today, they’d be sent to the palace.
I went over the plan in my mind. Pudge would no longer have to keep his promise to speak up for me. I just had to wait for the king and my father to call me up to the dais with Dorian, and then they’d go through the ceremony part. Easy as that.
This should’ve calmed me, and yet, I wondered what life might be like. If Dorian and I would fall in love. We got on well enough, and he knew me better than most people in the kingdom…
Oh, Hag. What about our wedding night? I’d never talked to Cook about that. I mean, I knew what happened in theory, but… My face burned with heat.
Heart thrashing like a fish caught in a net, I realized this was it. My whole future was laid out before me. Please, Dorian, don’t let me down. Please treat me as an equal.
“Oh, my,” Father said when he saw me. “Ivy, you make your father proud.” He came forward, wrapping me in his arms. When he pulled back, he studied me as if searching for answers to some unknown question.
“You approve?” I stepped back, spinning around.
“Yes, love.” He held out his arm, and I looped mine through his. “Let’s see you off, then.”
Taking one last look over my shoulder, he led me from our home. There’d be no more reading in the garden or sneaking out my window. Cook would no longer chastise me and Pudge for stealing food from her kitchen. My childhood was officially over. Next would come marriage, along with my training on how to be a royal.
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