by Emily Deady
Chapter 33
Her heart racing, Ashlin kept her hands behind her back. As soon as they were out of sight of the palace entrance, Drirsi dropped her arm.
“Are you alright, miss?” he asked.
She nodded. “I think so.” She looked at the guards around her, wanting to believe in Onric but not sure she trusted his guards to blindly carry out his orders, especially after how quickly the crowd had turned against her in the chaos. “Where are you taking me?”
“Do not worry, miss,” Drirsi responded. “We were carefully watching every section of the great hall this entire evening. We saw you with His Highness by the tapestry when the attack happened. We are taking you to the stables, not the dungeon.”
Ashlin sighed in relief.
Moments later, she was standing in the stable, pulling off her glass shoes while one of the guards saddled Blossom.
“Get out of here quickly,” Drirsi said, “and go hide yourself somewhere. I would stay hidden for a few days if I were you, as we cannot guarantee your safety should someone see you and recognize you.”
Ashlin nodded, looking around for a place to hide her shoes. She would not be able to ride while wearing them, and she had no way to bring them with her. She ran her thumb over the feathered texture for the last time and slipped them under a pile of hay in Blossom’s stall. “I’m ready,” she said.
One of the guards helped her onto Blossom and handed her the reins.
“Thank you,” she said. “Keep the rest of them safe.” She urged Blossom into a trot and took off into the dark night.
She wanted to go home and grab her few things before going to Mistress Cedrice’s shop, but it was too dangerous. At the thought of home, she realized that she no longer felt any attachment to the old stone mansion. It had once been a place of refuge, but now it was merely a house. Hopefully she could go back there one day and retrieve her father’s books.
At the moment, though, she was eager to start her new life as an apprentice seamstress. All things considered, she’d had a rather incredible night. She had let go of her cruel family, confronted her stepmother, apologized to Onric, and experienced her first kiss. If not for the magical attack, it would have been a perfect evening.
As she quickly guided Blossom through the dark streets, her mind went back to the attack. It was exactly what she had expected a Majis attack to look and feel like, even though it was quite the opposite of her experiences with the needle and Mistress Cedrice. She had been right about the singing, though. The attacker had used a deep chant to create his orb.
The horse grew confused when she turned his head right towards the center of the city rather than left towards the outskirts, but he followed her lead. She patted his neck. “Thank you, Blossom.”
Slipping into an alley beside the shop, she slid off the tall animal, landing with her bare feet on the muddy ground below. She tucked the reins under his saddle and kissed his soft forehead. “Go home, boy. Go home to your master.” She slapped his neck and pushed him back out onto the street. He nudged her a few times with his head, then pranced down the road.
Ashlin gathered her blue skirt in her arms, waiting in the shadowed alleyway until Blossom disappeared so she would not draw attention to herself. The skirt felt rough under her fingers, and she looked down to see that the dress had reverted to its old form, ripped and torn as it had been before the enchantment.
She sighed. For some reason, that small fact, more than any other, seemed to signify that this magical night was over. Prince Onric would no doubt search for her at her old house, but he would not know where to find her, and she would not know when it would be safe to go out in public again.
For a moment, she briefly wished she could have kept the swan-like glass shoes. Even though they were not the same as her mother’s figurine, they had made her feel as though that treasured item had been restored. Hopefully Blossom would not choke on the shard of glass that was now sitting in his pile of food.
Chapter 34
Ashlin spent the next morning beginning construction on a new dress for herself. Mistress Cedrice had given her a length of rose-colored linen for the task.
“You are my apprentice now, child,” the older woman had insisted, “and I must make sure you look orderly enough to welcome my customers.”
Ashlin had gratefully accepted her gift and happily gone to work. It did not feel like work when she was doing her very favorite thing, in her very favorite place, after having slept in long past dawn that morning.
The bell on the front door rang, and Ashlin shrank behind the crates in the back room. Until she received news of how the ball had ended last night, she did not want to show her face.
She could hear Mistress Cedrice speak to the customer, but she could not hear what they said. Hopefully they would not be long, as Ashlin did not want to make a sound. She waited for the sound of the front bell to signal their exit.
Instead, she heard the back door open and a heavy footfall pause inside the doorway. That was not the sound of the seamstress. Had the palace guard come back to officially arrest her?
The footsteps came deeper into the room, and a pair of glass shoes appeared around her wall of crates.
“I found these in Blossom’s stall last night.” Onric peaked around the corner, his eyes laughing down at her. “I thought you might want them back.” He set the exquisite shoes on top of a crate. They were still whole.
“Onric?” She jumped up and flew into his arms. Her heart lurched in happiness as he swung her off her feet. “What happened?” she asked as soon as she was on the ground again.
“Lord Munney was the Majis spy,” Onric said, filling her in. “We are sending him back to the Council in Chendas so they can deal with him. And we also sent along word of your discoveries regarding the source of the magic. Thank you for that.”
“And Ian?”
“Ian is fine.” Onric’s face clouded. “Aden, however, is not.”
Ashlin placed her palm on his chest, silently offering her support while she waited for him to explain.
“Munney cursed him into the form of a beast.”
“A beast?”
“He seems to have retained his mind and his ability to speak. Every physician in the kingdom has been summoned to see what can be done.”
“I might know someone who can help,” Ashlin offered, thinking of the seamstress. “But I will have to ask their permission before I share more with you.”
Onric’s face held a touch of hope. “Please do,” he said. “I am sure that my father will gladly protect anyone who can help Aden.”
“How is Aden taking it?”
“He’s not very happy about it, understandably. Ian has sworn to find the instigator and take vengeance.”
“That’s very noble of him.”
“Considering that Aden took the curse for him, it’s the least he can do.”
“And you? How did you know I was here?”
“You said you were moving forward. I figured that meant you were finally going to apprentice, like you have always wanted to do.”
She smiled, pleased that he had known exactly where to look for her. “Ian told me it was your idea to open the invitations to everyone in the city.”
Onric stepped closer to her, softly running the back of his fingers down her cheek. “Almost since the day we met, my heart has been entirely yours. Ashlin . . .” He dropped his voice to a whisper. “Will you marry me?”
For a moment, she nearly melted with happiness. But her heart and her mind were not saying the same thing. She reached up and placed a hand on his chest. “No.”
It took a moment for him to register her answer, but when he did, he jumped backwards and peered down at her face. “No? You can’t . . .”
“Oh, but I can.” His face was so shocked, she nearly laughed. “I clearly recall that you told me I could say no to you, prince or not.”
“Alright, alright.” He put his hands up in defeat and confusion. “Surely you are jestin
g, though. Will you please consider saying yes, just this one time?”
The tenderness in his eyes took her breath away. “I said no, and yes it was half in jest, but partially serious as well.” She paused, trying to organize her thoughts so she could express herself without hurting him further.
Onric watched her patiently, waiting silently.
“I am saying no for now, but I want to ask you for something. Only, it is a very selfish thing to ask for.”
“Selfish? You?” he responded. “You are the least selfish person I have ever encountered. In fact, you are so unselfish that it is entirely unhealthy. I want you to be selfish. If you asked for five selfish things every day, I would do everything in my power to grant them to you.”
She smiled. “Remember the conversation we had about tea?”
“Yes?”
“I feel as though I have been soaking in smoke from . . . from the people around me, and now I am a flavor that I never intended to be.”
“You feel like tea?”
She nodded. Bolstered by his humor, she quickly finished her thought. “I am saying ‘no’ for now, but I would dearly love to say ‘yes’ later, if that is an arrangement you would be willing to make. For now, for the next few months at least, I want to stay here. To apprentice with Mistress Cedrice.”
“I think that is an excellent idea.”
“You do?”
“I can’t say that I don’t wish I could whisk you away to the palace to marry you instantly, but I think this time to yourself is important as well.”
“Thank you.” Her eyes filled with tears of happiness.
“Good. If it helps any, I already know what flavor you are, though.” He leaned in close again, noisily sniffing the top of her head.
“What flavor am I?” She looped her hands around his neck.
“You, my dearest, are kindness and gentleness and joy, with a hint of courage thrown in.” He leaned down and caught her lips in his own.
Epilogue
“Pssst. Aden,” Onric whispered through the bedroom doorway. “Are you awake?”
“I am now.” Aden pulled his blankets tighter around his head. “Your tramping through the halls would wake even a hibernating bear.”
Aden knew that his retort was more callous than it needed to be, but his new beast-like body had a magnified sense of hearing. In fact, he could hear so well that he had hardly slept in the three days since the Majis had cursed him. He heard every shuffling footstep, peal of laughter, and creaking window between his bedroom and the castle walls.
“Sorry,” Onric whispered. “We were trying to be stealthy.”
“I know.” Aden sighed. He could hear Onric slip into the room and close the door behind him. He could also hear two other sets of footsteps. He exhaled slowly, giving himself one more moment before he brought his head out from the protective blankets. It was not as though he was actually going to get much sleep anyway.
He pulled the covers from his face and sat up.
Focusing his eyes, Aden attempted to follow the hazy light bobbing from the lantern in Onric's hand, though he could not clearly make out any of the nightly intruders. The effort caused a light pain in his upper forehead as his eyes had not received the same expanded abilities that his ears had. All he could see was blurred shapes of shadow or light. Despite his best effort, he could not bring those shapes into focus. He could, however, recognize the lighter set of footsteps by their sound alone.
“Ashlin?” he guessed.
“Yes?” Her voice was soft, light, and comforting. Aden had instantly approved of her from the moment they first met. She was an excellent complement to his older brother's blunt, direct, and oblivious nature. Though Onric had a caring heart, he was not the best at reading the subtle nuances in a room—a trait which Aden prided himself on—but Ashlin seemed to have enough perception for the both of them. Onric had been absolutely besotted by her for weeks, and it seemed that something had changed for them since the ball. Aden was glad for his brother, or he would be if he were not so busy figuring out how he was going to spend the rest of his life as a monstrous animal.
The third set of footsteps shuffled closer to his bed.
“Who else is with you?” he asked.
“Mistress Cedrice, the seamstress from town,” Ashlin responded. “She . . .”
“She may have some insight into your . . . condition.” Onric finished her sentence after Ashlin paused.
“I said no more physicians.” Aden's voice came out closer to a growl. He had spent the last three days hiding in his room while every physician within traveling distance poked and prodded and attempted to prescribe a cure. After the last one suggested that they attempt to burn the fur from his body in an attempt to recover his human form, Aden convinced his mother that a physician could not cure a curse.
“She is a seamstress,” Ashlin repeated.
“Why is she here then, I do not need new . . .” Aden stopped, realizing that he did indeed need new clothes. He had been lying in bed for three days and had not even considered the fact that his new body would not even remotely fit into his old clothes. If the size of his bed was any indication, he was at least twice as wide and over a head taller. Of course Ashlin would have thought of something that everyone else had missed. “Actually, that is brilliant. I do need new clothes. I am so glad you thought of that.”
“We did not think of that.” Ashlin whispered to Onric. Aden could hear her perfectly well, though her voice was low and quiet, using tones that were meant for Onric's ears only.
“It is a good point though,” Onric whispered back. “It might even tempt him to try getting out of this room.”
“Give him some time. This is all very new and confusing,” Ashlin said. “We can start sewing some clothes immediately, though I am ashamed we did not think of it sooner.”
Aden cleared his throat, embarrassed but amused to be listening in to a conversation he was not privy to.
“I am here in secrecy, your highness,” Mistress Cedrice spoke for the first time, “because I have a trifling knowledge about the Majis and their ways.”
“You cannot tell father. Or anyone.” Onric stepped closer to the bed. “Not that he would disapprove, of course, but you know how he gets when he has to hide things from the Council. Swear to me that you will tell no one.”
“Just as I told no one about the spelled needle that you were testing on that tapestry in the eastern tower?” Aden wished that he could see the shock on his brother's face. He could almost hear Onric's heart speeding up, but his new hearing was not quite that good.
“What do you know about that?” Onric’s voice was guarded and angry.
“We are on the same side in this, Onric. No need to be so alarmed. I merely realized what you were doing from the start. You have done well, though you are not quite so secretive as you would like to think that you are.”
Onric leaned away from the bed, exhaling in relief.
Aden turned his eyes toward Mistress Cedrice. “Tell me what you know, seamstress.”
“Very little, I am afraid. I merely remember my grandmother, and her mother before her, singing the songs that have been passed down. Sometimes, we found that those songs can bring about a beautiful change in the objects around us. My only knowledge is what I have learned or experimented with in creating things of beauty or healing. I know nothing of curses or darker magic. But I am here now to see if anything I do know might be of use.”
Aden sat fully up, feeling intrigued for the first time in days. This might not go anywhere, but it was better than drinking herbal teas for the rest of his life. “Where do we go from here?”
“Well,” Mistress Cedrice replied, “these two have given me several accounts of what happened that night, but I should like to hear what you experienced.”
Aden felt at ease with the older woman. She was nothing like the physicians and surgeons that had bowed and scraped their way into his presence. He thought back to the events of that horrible nig
ht, as he had many times, but the specifics were as hazy as his eyesight. “When the room grew dark,” he said, “I saw Ian just standing there and I knew that the ball of light from the attacker was gathering power. So, I jumped forward to protect him. I do not remember anything else. I did not even feel the orb hit me. I just woke up, some hours later with a sharp pain in my head and . . . like this.”
“You heard the attacker chanting?”
“I suppose I did. I do not recall it as I was focused on getting to Ian in time.”
“What benefit would a Majis have for turning the crown prince into a beast?” Onric cut into the conversation, eager to be part of everything, as usual.
“The only guess I have,” Mistress Cedrice answered, “and this is merely a guess, is that the attacker did not intend for this to happen. He was likely attempting to kill his target, but something about Aden's interference fractured the power of the orb. The one thing I do know of magic is that it can be fragile. In my limited experience, magic is not nearly as frightening as we assume that it will be.”
“So, I might have actually stopped Ian from death?” Aden asked.
“It is entirely likely that you did.”
Aden let that knowledge wash over him. He had known that he was helping his older brother, but it had been difficult not to be bitter about the results of his selfless action.
“Of course,” Mistress Cedrice continued her earlier thoughts, “I have no idea how powerful this Lord Munney was. I have never experienced a magic that was entirely contained in itself. The only magic I have seen requires an object to interact with.”
“Like needing the shard of glass to create my shoes for the ball,” Ashlin said, her voice dawned with understanding.
“Precisely.”
“Why did the shoes not disappear, though, when everything else you spelled that night went back to its old form?” Ashlin asked. “Perhaps this curse has a time limit as well?”