“I need a break,” she said, between gasps for air.
“Can’t keep up?”
Tristan’s hair stood up in five different directions. Aurora batted one piece down. Her heart was still racing from the dancing, the world around them streaked with color and light. She felt like they had spun away from the rest of the city, like she could do anything and it would mean nothing, wouldn’t have any consequences tomorrow. She looked at Tristan, and he looked back, all flushed and out of breath, grinning his stupid grin.
Aurora darted forward and kissed him.
His eyes widened, but as quickly as she had done it, Aurora jumped back. She bit her lip. Tristan’s eyes followed the movement, but before he could lean closer again, she skipped away, giddy with her own boldness, but not quite bold enough to try again. She giggled. “Come on,” she said. “We have to find Nettle.”
They continued down the street. In the distance, Aurora heard Nettle’s voice, weaving through the crowd. Her song was softer, slower, barely noticeable over the shouts and the clatter of footsteps on the streets. She stood on a makeshift stage in a square, performing to a small crowd. Her black hair was held away from her face with a pin in the shape of a butterfly, and she swayed as she sang, strands of hair escaping to curl around her chin.
Aurora pulled Tristan’s hand until they were in the square, lost in the crowd, only feet from Nettle herself. Gently, Tristan tugged her closer, pressing his free hand into the small of her back.
Blood pounded in her ears, and his eyes gleamed in the dim light. She let go of his hand and raised her own, letting it skim along his shoulder before settling at the nape of his neck. Downy-soft curls brushed her skin, and she wrapped one around her finger.
His breath tickled her ear. She felt light-headed, so she closed her eyes, letting the music flow through her. Tristan’s hand tightened against her back, and they swayed together.
The song shifted, and he leaned even closer, so that his lip brushed against her earlobe. When he spoke, his words were so quiet that she felt rather than heard them. “Are you ever going to tell me who you are, Mouse?”
Her heart pounded so forcefully that she was sure he could feel it. She shook her head, and he sighed against her skin. “Didn’t think so.”
She swallowed and squeezed her eyes tighter. The moments were slipping through her fingers like grains of sand. She wanted to say something, to entrust some secret part of herself to him, before it all tumbled away.
She pressed her face against Tristan’s neck. He smelled of smoke and sweetness. She rose up on her tiptoes, until her nose traced the top of his ear. “I’m lost,” she said.
Nettle continued to sing, words of longing and heartache. Aurora held her breath, and Tristan smiled against her cheek.
“Me too,” he said. “Maybe we can be lost together.”
TEN
AS SOON AS AURORA RETURNED TO HER ROOM, SHE curled up in her armchair and opened her new book. The story turned out to be as terrible as it was addictive. Devious Dan stole and swashbuckled his way across the kingdom, jumping from one danger to another with only his dagger and his wits to protect him. His enemies cackled and the girls swooned as Dan dodged peril after peril on his hunt for legendary treasure. Reading it, Aurora couldn’t stop picturing Tristan as a ten-year-old boy, devouring the adventures at an impossible speed. Was this what had inspired his story of piracy and acrobatics?
His lips still seemed to linger against hers, all the excitement of the night captured in one fleeting moment. She did not want to sleep. She wanted to cling to the memory, to enjoy the way her heart still pounded. She wanted to read the book again and think, This is Tristan’s, too.
When Betsy opened the unlocked door the following morning, she paused for a long moment, staring at the ground. Then she closed it softly behind her and crept over to where Aurora sat. “Princess,” she said. “I know I am only your maid, so I hope you don’t think I am speaking out of place. . . .”
“You’re not only my maid, Betsy,” Aurora said. “You’re not only anything.”
Betsy nodded. “The thing is—if someone has been unlocking your door, you must tell me. It’s important. I don’t know whether you’re aware of it happening or not, but I’m worried for you.”
“Please don’t worry about me,” Aurora said. “It’s just sometimes—it’s stifling in here at night. I like to walk the corridors. The guards are always nearby.”
“Even so, Princess. It’s dangerous for you to walk around alone.”
Aurora wanted to promise her that she would stay put, that of course she would be safe. But the music of the night before still hummed in her ear, the pressure of Tristan’s hand brushing against her lower back, and the words stuck in her throat. She needed to see him again. She would go mad, trapped here.
“Anyway, I’m glad you’re awake,” Betsy said, turning aside. “Prince Finnegan has requested breakfast with you. I thought maybe you could wear the gold dress, with the ribbon? It will look lovely on you—”
“Finnegan wants to eat breakfast with me?” After being berated by the queen for even playing cards with him, she had assumed she would not see much of him again.
“So I’ve been told. Isn’t that exciting?” Betsy pulled a dress out of the wardrobe and brushed down its skirts.
Aurora bit back a smile. “You think spending time with Finnegan is exciting?”
Betsy blushed. She shook out the dress once more, and then scurried over to Aurora, holding it in front of her. “Well . . . he is very handsome, Princess. Not as lovely as Rodric, of course, but . . . handsome.”
“Perhaps you should go instead. You seem far more excited than I am.”
“Oh, don’t be silly,” Betsy said. “I wouldn’t know what to do. I wouldn’t be able to say a word.”
“Now that I don’t believe.”
Betsy giggled. “No, no, Princess, I’d clam right up,” she said. “So it’s lucky it’s you and not me who’s got the pleasure. Now breathe in while I lace this up.”
The queen strode into the room half an hour later. She ran an appraising eye over Aurora, from her cinched-in waist to the wide skirts that swallowed her feet. She nodded. “Come along. Prince Finnegan is waiting.”
“I thought you didn’t want me speaking with him.”
The queen frowned. “Betsy, you are dismissed.” The maid curtsied and scurried out of the room. Once the door closed behind her, the queen spoke again. “You would question me in front of a servant?”
“I think I have a right to ask,” Aurora said. “Yesterday you warned me to stay away from him. You told me he was dangerous. And today I’m to eat breakfast with him as though we’re the best of friends?”
“No,” the queen snapped. “Not as though you are the best of friends. As though you are diplomatic allies. Which is what you are. Finnegan has requested a breakfast with you, and as he is our guest, we can hardly refuse him.”
“But—” You’re the queen, she wanted to say. Surely she could refuse whoever she pleased.
“Must you protest everything I say?” the queen said. “Come along. The sooner you go there, the sooner you can leave. And be on your best behavior. Do not treat him with the same impudence with which you treat me.”
The queen shepherded her into a small, cozy room on one of the lower floors of the castle. Finnegan stood by the fire, staring up at a painting, unattended by guards. He smiled when he saw them approach.
“My dear Iris! It is wonderful to see you again. And Aurora.” He bowed. “Thank you for coming to meet me this morning. I so very much wanted the chance to speak with you again.”
The queen forced a smile. “One of my attendants will be outside if you need anything,” she said. “I shall have breakfast sent to you momentarily.” The prince bowed graciously, and, with a warning look at Aurora, Iris was gone.
“Now, isn’t that better?” said the prince as soon as the door closed. “I cannot stand that woman.”
She stared
at him. She felt the sudden urge to defend the queen, even though the words were ones that she herself had thought.
“Oh, don’t tell me you like her,” he said. “She’s such a miserable old bat. I don’t think she’s spoken a true word in her whole life.”
He was confident to the point of cockiness, smug in his grin and seemingly delighted with every blunt word he spoke. A lady is polite, she told herself. It had been her mother’s first rule: politeness could get you anything.
“Iris means well,” she said eventually. A blush crept across her cheeks. “She has been a great help to me.”
“She means well?” He laughed. “Is that the highest praise our dear Sleeping Beauty can muster for her?” He leaned back against the table, hands gripping it on either side. “You are a terrible liar, Aurora. Even that simple one has set your face on fire.”
“I may be a bad liar,” Aurora said, “but I can read people, the same as you. I won our card game yesterday, remember?”
“You did,” he said. “With a little assistance from me. What a team we make.” He pushed himself back to standing. “It has been too long since we were last alone.”
“Since we were last alone?” she echoed.
He nodded. “Summer of 668 by Alyssinia’s reckoning, my eighteenth birthday. One kiss, but you didn’t seem to like it.” He tilted his head. “I hope you find I improve with age.” When she did not reply, he added, “See, you do not even remember. I am hurt, my lady.”
“Well, you know,” Aurora said, “I have kissed so many men. Few stand out.” The words felt dangerous on her tongue, but she would not listen meekly while he taunted her with smiles.
“But were all of them as handsome as I?”
“I do not recall.”
“The cruelty of unrequited love.” He sighed. “I remember you, of course. I had never seen one so beautiful.”
“Are the women so very ugly where you come from?”
“No,” he said. “They are all pictures of elegance. But mere weeds compared to your beauty and wit.”
“You flatter me.”
“Is it working? Are you ready to abandon Prince Rodric and run away with me? Oh, the adventures we will have.”
Aurora paused, thrown off the rhythm of their banter, and he laughed. “I forget myself, Aurora, of course. You love Prince Rodric. You are destined to live happily ever after and have many golden children to repopulate the throne.”
She looked away, embarrassment and annoyance tensing her muscles. “If you’ve asked me here to mock me—”
“Mock you? What an insult to poor Rodric. I was simply describing the dream.”
A knock on the door saved Aurora from replying. Finnegan moved to open it. A maid stood on the other side, with red hair falling around a pale, freckly face. She clutched a tray of tea and pastries. “I brought breakfast, my lord. If it pleases you.”
“Oh it does, Sylvia,” he said. “Bring it in, bring it in. Such a lovely girl like you shouldn’t be kept hovering on the doorstep.”
The maid blushed from the roots of her hair to the tip of her nose. Finnegan’s eyes followed her as she placed the tray on the table and bobbed into a curtsy.
“Do you always hound all the girls?” Aurora asked as soon as the maid was gone.
“Only the lucky ones.” He sank into an armchair in front of the tray. “Come. Eat breakfast with me. Normally a shared breakfast would imply something quite different, but I am willing to let it slide. Eat. Tell me about yourself.”
She did not move. “I am sure you already know all about me.”
“From the stories? My mother always told me, ‘Don’t believe everything you hear in fairy tales.’ I’d rather get my information from the source. Why do you think I’m here? The chances of Rodric awakening you seemed slim, but I made sure I was close by, just in case. I wanted the opportunity to meet you as soon as I could.” When she did not sit down, he added, “If you do not wish to tell me your story, perhaps you could tell me mine. I would love to know what an honest girl like you thinks of me.”
“I barely know you.”
“Oh, drop the princess act,” he said. “We were having such fun earlier. Why go cold all of a sudden?”
She frowned. “I think you are ridiculous and arrogant,” she said. “Some prince from some foreign land trying to mock and humiliate me for fun.”
“Go on. First impressions are important.”
“You’re frivolous and disrespectful, and I don’t know why Iris wanted me to meet with you.”
“See? Isn’t the truth much nicer? Trust me, Iris thinks the same, and if she had any choice, I wouldn’t be here. But she doesn’t.” He took a bite out of a bread roll. “I’m too important to ignore. And when you’re that important, you can do what you like. A lesson you don’t seem to have learned. Or are you not as important as they claim?”
She forced herself to maintain a neutral expression and slipped into the armchair across from him, her chin pushed high. “I am myself,” she said. “You can tell me whether that is important enough.”
“That would be difficult,” he said. “You haven’t told me a word about who you are. If you want me to understand the real you, it’d be a great help.”
“I’d rather not.”
“Fine. Then I’ll see what I can come up with on my own.” He leaned forward, and his eyes swept over her skin. “You’re fed up,” he said. “You’re forced to act all meek and lovely, but you have fire in you, and brutality too, I bet. You want adventure. The others say no, but you—you want something more. Am I close?”
She swallowed, struggling not to look away. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Lies really do not become you.” He took another bite of bread, and the tension between them dimmed slightly. Aurora looked down at her hands, clutched in her lap. “You’d like Vanhelm,” he said. “It’s nothing like here. Only a little sea between us, and our worlds are so very different. Our buildings tower, Aurora, in a way that puts your castles to shame. While you sprawl out over this land, we build up into the sky, squeezing into tiny spaces, the ones the dragons tend to leave alone.”
“Dragons?” Her breath caught. Dragons were the creatures of books, of legends and dreams from long, long ago. They had not existed for as long as Alyssinia had existed—possibly longer, for who could tell if the myths had any truth in them at all?
“Oh, yes,” he said. “You didn’t know? One day, fifty years ago, they awoke. Rather like you. They came out of the mountains and burned half my kingdom to ash. Why do you think your king and queen fear us? If we ever figure out how to tame the creatures . . .” He grinned. “Does that excite you, Aurora?”
Creatures of legend, ones that should never exist, living and breathing across the sea. Of course it excited her. “Why?” she said. “How did they wake up?”
“No one knows. Would you like to find out? If you came with me, we could make quite a story of it. None of this fairy-tale nonsense. Heart-pounding danger, and a bit of fire.”
The worst part was that his offer sounded tempting. Just leave. Leave Prince Rodric and responsibility, run and see everything she had never seen. She felt a surge of anger, furious at him for intriguing her, furious at herself for feeling intrigued. “Are you so intent on seducing me?” she said. “Or is it that you are so inept you need to bring in fantastical beasts to sway me?”
“Is it working? My mother would be most pleased if it did. We share ancestors, you know. That’s why I’m here, as fun as teasing you might be.” He moved closer. “Unworthy men have ruled Alyssinia since your father died. My family has a much better claim. We want to unite the two kingdoms, bring some of our advances to this backward realm, find some new land to build on. With you back, of course, things change somewhat, but if you wished for such an alliance . . .”
“You mean, if I betrayed my people.”
“Betrayed is such a harsh word,” he said. “If you support King John, we can le
arn to live as things currently are. We all want to help such a lovely fairy-tale darling. If, however, you ever have any doubts—”
“I support him,” she said as quickly as she dared.
“Your face gives you away. You will need to start wearing a mask, if you want to be more convincing.”
She stood up, her food untouched. “Is there anything else you wish to say to me?”
“Even when storming off, she is polite. The offer is there, Aurora. Come with me, and you will have your kingdom and your adventure, too. Alyssinia is a starving backwater of a land. I can make it better. And you would be able to leave. I know that appeals to you, whatever you might say.”
“You think you can trick me into betraying my kingdom with a few winks and a handsome grin?” No matter how uncomfortable she felt in these walls, she suddenly knew how lucky she was to get a humble boy like Rodric instead of an arrogant man like this. A man who thought he understood everything with a single glance and could say whatever he liked without consequence or care.
“Of course not,” he said. “But I can’t help but notice: you speak of Alyssinia, but nothing of your supposed beloved.” He stood up and reached for her hand. “You have given me much to think about. Thank you for meeting with me.” He pressed hot lips to her fingers in a whisper of a kiss. “I am sure we will see each other soon.”
ELEVEN
AURORA SPENT THE AFTERNOON EMBROIDERING handkerchiefs with the other women of court. The dullness of their chatter left her plenty of opportunity to repeat Finnegan’s words in her head, to dwell on his subtle insults and invent the perfect retorts. He had been so presumptuous, so overconfident, like he expected Aurora to swoon at his feet and took her refusal to do so as a particularly challenging delight. Every time she remembered his smug smile, her anger bubbled up again, stronger than before.
The queen sat so close to Aurora that their elbows brushed together each time she pulled her thread, and she watched the princess’s every stitch, offering corrections and comments as though Aurora were a small child. With the queen present, Aurora could not talk to the other ladies, or even attempt to enter the conversation. They talked of frivolous court gossip—how Lady So-and-So was expecting her third child but hoping to return to court, the new popularity of pearls in Falreach, the trouble that Young Whatshername was having finding a suitable maid. Topics changed without any apparent care for what the topic itself might be.
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