by Kai Andersen
He brushed past her. “I don’t want your pity.”
“I do not pity you, you dolt!” She shouted after him.
He stopped and went still.
“But why didn’t you tell me then?”
He turned around slowly. His green eyes glittered in the early morning sun. “You weren’t ready to hear it. Think about it, Giselda. What would you have done if I had confessed my feelings then?” He held up a hand when Giselda opened her mouth. “I’ll tell you. You would have laughed in my face and told me to go to hell.”
Giselda opened her mouth and then closed it again. He had it right. He knew her so well. But in these days that they’d been together, she’d been changing, so slowly that she hadn’t been aware of it. Now, when she looked within herself, she realized that it was a new Giselda she was seeing. A Giselda who was more understanding, less snobbish, less self-centered, but also less sure of what she wanted now for the rest of her life. Her lifelong dream of being queen (well, since she was fourteen, that is) had always guided her actions, but now, being queen to Michael’s king held less appeal than before.
She was torn. Her dreams and ambition drew her, yet something more powerful held her in thrall. The dream seemed vague now, losing its grasp on her. Not because it was lacking in any way, but because a greater attraction was pulling at her, tugging at her senses, at her heartstrings, and making her think of possibilities.
One thing she was sure of, though -- she wanted the man standing before her. She wanted him with all the passion that was in her. She was thrilled that he loved her, when he knew everything about her, all the good and the bad things about her. She didn’t have to pretend to be someone else with him. She could just be herself, Giselda -- bratty, slow to understand a joke (sometimes), snobbish, persistent (even when it was toward the wrong things, like when she pursued Frederick), and a whole slew of other desirable and undesirable traits.
In Rodin, there was freedom.
With Rodin, she could soar.
So she smiled her most seductive smile and sashayed toward him. “And why do you tell me now, Rodin? Do you think I’m ready to hear it now?”
His face grew sterner, if that were possible. He seemed to be holding himself under a great restraint. There was a tension about him, strong and tangible, and he was so rigid, she was afraid he would snap into two. Through gritted teeth, he emphasized, “I do not want your pity, damn it!”
Looking up at him through half-lidded eyes, she said in a low, husky voice, “Not pity, Rodin. Very far from pity.” She trailed one hand up his muscular arm and settled it on his chest. “I have to admit, I never thought I would feel this way about you.”
There was a stillness in his eyes as he asked, “What way?”
He seemed to be holding his breath, waiting for her answer. “You were always Frederick’s friend, who tolerated my presence whenever I wanted to tag along. When Frederick would snarl for me to go away, you were the one who pacified him and taught me how to put bait and to fish.” Her other hand came up to caress his cheek. He caught it in one hand and, turning his head, placed a soft kiss in the center of her palm. The gesture was so sweet it brought tears to her eyes. “You taught me how to swim, to hunt, to hold a sword.” She grimaced. “Not that I was any good at it. And to -- to -- there are so many things, I can’t even name them all. You were always so patient with me. You were like the brother I never had.”
He turned ashen. “Brother?”
“Yes, and --”
“You forgot the times when I taunted you, when I disagreed with you and made you mad.”
He had recovered swiftly and was now on the attack.
“No,” she continued earnestly. “I just haven’t gotten to that yet. But now that you mention it, I remember that those happened when I was older. I also gave my fair share of teasing and insults. There were also the times when I deliberately made you mad ... like right now.”
“Quit playing with me, Giselda!” He made a move to go, but she caught hold of his shirt and pressed herself against him.
“It’s only now that I realize why we were also at loggerheads some of the time.” She looked into his eyes. “Sparks flew during those times, Rodin, though we may not have realized it. I think I was attracted to you even then, but slow as I was, I never realized. My ambition blinded me from seeing you, though you were right in front of me.”
“Giselda ...”
“You are my dearest friend and lover.” Her throat felt tight, as if it were clogged with something. “All the passion I ever knew, Rodin ...” Her eyes closed a bit as his head descended. “... you taught me.”
The last few words were muffled by his mouth as their lips met in a long and soulful kiss. There was no passion in the kiss, but it was full of promise and a savoring of each other.
“Ahem.” Sounds of throat-clearing. “Ahem, ahem.” More throat-clearing, but still subtle. “AHEM!”
Rodin released her.
Giselda looked pointedly down at the fox. “Can’t you see we’re busy?”
The fox sniffed. “I have eyes, but I would have thought you would want to get on your quest.”
“Yes, but I would have enjoyed more time with Rodin.”
“You will have all the time you want, later on. But for now, I think we should concentrate on having this quest over and done with.”
“You knew we would fail?” Giselda’s voice was full of dismay.
“Not really.” Merry hesitated. “I guessed.”
All the guilt that Giselda had been ignoring came rushing at her. “It was my fault. I touched the golden cage, when you had already warned us not to, and --”
“Giselda ...” Rodin’s comforting hand was at her back.
Merry’s eyes held a wealth of understanding. “Let this setback be not in vain, Giselda. But even if not for you, it just proved that the time to end their enchantment has not yet come.”
“Who are they, Merry? Why was Amber turned into a phoenix?”
For the first time, indecision crossed Merry’s face. “I cannot tell you. In fact, it is not something for mortal ears to hear. If it were not for your quest ...”
Giselda understood. Amber and the people they had met in the castle were not mortal.
“In fact, as soon as this whole quest is over, you won’t remember any of it.” Merry seemed sad. “I will have to erase the memory from your mind.”
“But the phoenix --?”
“To you and the rest of Mithirien, she would be a wonderful bird with magical healing properties. But that would be all.”
“How sad, not to remember any part of this great adventure,” Giselda murmured while looking at Rodin.
“Not to worry; you would remember parts of it. The most important parts.”
Giselda felt certain relief in hearing that.
“We are supposed to go to the Castle of Night to retrieve a certain ring. I think I can safely presume that the castle’s location is no problem.” Rodin looked at the fox, who nodded. “But what about the ring, Merry? Can you tell us about it?”
“A child-princess sleeps at the top of the east tower. Two rings are on the table beside her bed, one gold and one wooden. Both have magical properties, but the ring that the king wants is the wooden one.”
“I won’t even look at the gold one this time,” Giselda said vehemently.
Merry smiled. “The princess has to be awakened, for either of the rings cannot leave the castle without the princess. Be warned that the princess will insist on bringing the gold ring with her. Remember, it is the wooden ring you seek and not the gold one.”
“Is she also under an enchantment?”
“Yes.”
“Won’t the whole castle awaken when she wakes?”
“No.”
“What is her name?”
“Lila.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Everything was the same as in the Castle of Light, except for the fact that this castle was gloomy and dark.
It was a ghost castle, with pages and courtiers lying everywhere in the same manner as in the previous castle. It didn’t bother Giselda as much as the first time, but still, she didn’t stop to examine them closely. They proceeded toward the east tower, where they climbed the spiraling steps until they grew dizzy and short of breath.
“Are you all right?” Rodin asked.
They had stopped midway, resting with one hand against the wall. At least, Giselda supposed it must be midway. They had been climbing for so long, she’d lost track of the seconds and the minutes.
“I ... am fine,” she panted. She was gratified to know that Rodin was not unaffected by their climb. She would hate to be the one to slow them down. “Or I will be ... in a few minutes.”
“Maybe I can ... go ahead without you. Once I collect the princess and the ring ... we’ll meet you here ... and we can leave together.”
“No. We are in this ... together.”
In the moonlight, she saw Rodin smile. He echoed. “Together.”
After a few more minutes of rest, they resumed their climb. Finally, they reached the top, where a door stood on the far side of the landing. Giselda stopped for a moment to look outside the tower window. She saw nothing but an expanse of gray.
Where is this place?
Fear struck her, and she wanted nothing more than to finish the quest and spend the rest of her days in Rodin’s arms.
She was startled at the sudden thought, and paused in contemplation. She had certainly come a long way from the princess whose eyes had focused singlemindedly on the throne.
“Giselda?”
Rodin had opened the door and was waiting for her to join him. Together they entered the room and encountered an angelic-looking child sleeping on the four-poster bed. She looked to be about eight or nine. But maybe, like the phoenix, she was older than she looked.
Rodin glanced at her. “Should we awaken her first?”
“You do it; you have a way with children. I’ll go get the ring.”
Giselda searched the nearest bedside table, but found that it contained a half-full glass of milk and a storybook about the adventure of two sets of twins. She circled the bed to the other table and found the two rings nestled on a small pillow, exactly as Merry had described.
The golden ring glittered and called faintly to her, whispering promises of wealth and beauty. Even love.
But wealth and beauty and love were Rodin, who personified the security that the child in her had looked for all these years. In the image of the golden ring, she saw that the queenship and riches were the tangible symbols for the warm feelings of safety that she had experienced when her biological father was still alive and which were taken away from her when he had died. Though she had become a princess through her mother’s marriage, the deep-seated hunger for permanent security had never left her, and it had been transfigured into a persistent search for power and wealth.
Rodin’s love was stronger, and it blocked the ring’s insidious call.
Giselda dragged her eyes away and focused on the wooden ring. It was made of plain wood burnished to a deep brown, and it did not give off any magical vibrations. She wondered if Merry had given them the right instructions.
Someone yawned and spoke. “Oh, hello. Who are you?”
Giselda turned to see that the child had woken up.
“My lady and I --” Rodin gestured toward her, and she saw the child swivel her head to look at her before turning back to Rodin. “-- have come to take you away from here.”
“Oh, goody.” Lila jumped up from the bed and shod her feet. “Let us leave. Oh, wait, I have to get my ring.”
Giselda snatched up the wooden ring and held it out to her. “Here, this must be what you are looking for.”
The girl frowned, still looking angelic in her white nightgown. She made no move to take the ring. “Oh, no. I want the gold one.”
“I am sure you are mistaken, Lila. You want this one.” Giselda placed the ring in her hand and closed her fingers around it.
“Yes, Lila.” Rodin added his own encouragement. “I’m sure you prefer that one. Look how shiny it is. The color is very nice, and it’s solid, too.”
“No! I’m old enough to know what I want.” Lila stamped her foot and threw the ring against the wall, where it thudded and fell to the ground. “I want the gold ring.” She strode over to the table and slid the ring onto her ring finger. She held up her hand and admired it. “It makes my hand look prettier.”
The Ring of Beauty.
Giselda looked helplessly at Rodin, who seemed to be immobile and speechless. Upon closer examination, she realized he was immobile. His eyes had a glassy look.
Panic settled upon her. She tried to shake him into awakening. “Rodin! What happened to you? Rodin! Talk to me!”
He did not respond.
“Rodin!”
Giselda forced herself to calm down, banishing the panic to a far corner of her mind. She took several deep breaths before thinking on what to do. First, what had happened to Rodin? He was still all right when he had awakened the princess. He had also tried to persuade the child to take the wooden ring. After that ... after that ...
He was turned into a statue when Lila had put on the golden ring.
It was up to her to convince Lila to take the other ring instead. But what would have happened had she, Giselda, also fallen under the spell of the golden ring? Would they have been doomed to spend the rest of their lives in this enchanted castle?
Giselda shuddered to think of the consequences of such a thing happening.
“Hey, come on. We’re leaving, aren’t we?”
She looked up to see Lila looking back at her from the doorway of the room. She shook her head.
Lila’s arms were akimbo. “Well, I cannot leave by myself. I’m afraid of the dark. You will have to come with me.”
“I cannot leave without Rodin.”
“Why not?”
“He’s not moving.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know. All I know is that when you put on that ring, he became a statue.”
Lila looked at the ring in awe. “Wow, I didn’t know it could do that.”
“So you have to leave it behind, Lila, and put on this wooden ring instead.”
“But I like the golden ring better.”
“Come here, Lila.”
When the girl drew near to her, Giselda pulled her up so that they both sat on the bed. “Why do you like the golden ring?”
“It’s pretty. It also makes my hand looks nice.”
Giselda searched for the proper words to convince this child to make the right choice. “Gold is pretty. It is also powerful and important because it can make your hand look nice. But it is not everything. It cannot buy happiness -- the real kind, the kind that starts from way deep within you and spreads throughout your whole being with warmth and joy. It cannot buy understanding -- the real kind, the kind that comes not from your head but from your heart.” Giselda paused, wondering if Lila was able to take it all in. But the girl was looking at her intently, her eyes glowing with a wisdom beyond her age.
“But it is so pretty.” Lila looked at the ring wistfully.
“I agree. But sometimes, Lila, we have to learn to look deeper. We have to use the eyes of our heart to go beyond the appearance to see that which is substantial, to look at the essence of a thing, and not just see what is on the surface.” Giselda had the sudden realization that she was talking about more than just the ring.
Familiar arms came around her. She didn’t realize how tense she was until she sagged against him.
“You did great, Giselda.” His lips nuzzled the shell of her ear. “Look, she’s taking off the ring. Now who has the magic touch with children?”
She laughed in relief, until tears came to her eyes. She felt a flash of the momentary fear that had gone through her when she thought she had lost him forever. “Maybe I unconsciously used a magic word? Like ‘please’?”
; “Now that would get you almost everything in my book.” His husky voice left her in no doubt as to what he meant.
Chapter Twenty-Four
It was midday when they came out of the castle. Strangely, or perhaps not strangely, all the castle folks were still in their somnolent state, and there was no one to challenge them as they passed through the long hall to reach the castle entrance.
Lila blinked as the sunlight hit her full in the face. “Where am I?”
“You don’t remember?” Giselda had expected her to dissolve in the sun. She had thought that Lila was a specter and part of the castle’s enchantment.
“She’s Princess Lila of Rikandia.”
“A talking fox!” Lila squealed and went down on her haunches in childish delight. She stroked Merry’s velvety fur.
“Rikandia! But that’s our neighbor. Is she enchanted? Are we in Rikandia now?” Giselda could not help the slew of questions that poured from her lips.
The fox sighed. “I suppose you deserve an explanation.” She turned to the little girl. “Lila, dear, why don’t you go play with those flowers over there?” A nudge and Lila was running happily among the flowering plants that had sprung up from nowhere. “While Lila’s father, the king, was out on a diplomatic journey, Lila’s stepmother, the queen, fell into trouble with evil fairies. Instead of accepting the punishment, she offered up her stepdaughter as a scapegoat. Evil beings that they are, the fairies had no compunction about taking a substitute.”
Giselda was horrified. She could see from Rodin’s expression that he shared the same sentiments. “What would have happened to Lila if we had failed?”
Merry smiled. “It is a good thing that you didn’t, right?”
“How come her stepmother has dealings with fairies?”
“She is a witch.”
For all her misfortune, Giselda was thankful that her mother didn’t hobnob with fairies. “I don’t think she’s a nice witch.”
“That sums it nicely, I think.”
Rodin grunted his assent. “How long has Lila been in the enchantment?”
“A few weeks, but I will erase her memory, as I will yours, so that she doesn’t suffer from this experience.”