The Stillness of the Sky: A Flipped Fairy Tale (Flipped Fairy Tales)

by Starla Huchton

  Hands shaking, I pulled the blue-black feather from my pack, my thoughts only of Ro and the need to be away.

  Chapter 10

  I arrived at the town gates out of breath from running from where Ro left me a mile outside of town. The moment I stepped inside, the pain that was steadily growing inside me disappeared completely. I bent forward, hands on my knees as I struggled for air.

  “You’re the Bard?” A pair of boots stopped in front of me.

  Lifting my face to the guard, I nodded. “Sorry… I’m late,” I said between gasps. “I came… As fast… As I could.”

  He turned and motioned me forward. “Best hurry then. The mayor insisted I bring you the moment you arrived.”

  Without giving me a chance to rest, the city guard walked down the street. Muttering a curse about magic tricks under my breath, I scurried after him, not wanting to get lost in a town I wasn’t familiar with.

  When the mayor’s house came into view, however, I pulled up short. A beautiful gray-green carriage was parked out front, the royal crest of Litania sending a spike of anxiety from my head into my feet. The guard was having none of my hesitation, however, and took hold of my arm, pulling me around to the back of the building. After being shoved inside the servants’ entrance, I was immediately passed off to a group of three women and herded up to the third floor. Before I could so much as protest, they had me clean, clothed in a new dress of minty green, and my hair braided beyond recognition.

  For once, I wished someone would’ve thought to ask me about my clothing preferences. I felt like an oversized doll after the business of the past few weeks. I missed my breeches and tunic, but at least I still had the boots Mrs. Minkov gave me.

  The guard that met me at the gates appeared at the bedroom door to collect me, and wordlessly saw me down the stone staircase leading to the main hall. Lute gripped tightly in one hand, I tried to calm myself, thinking through the songs I might sing and how long I was expected to perform. If I was lucky, they’d simply stick me in a corner to strum out inconsequential melodies while they dined and talked amongst themselves, but in my short time as a Bard, I’d yet to experience such a reprieve. The magic within me always commanded a rapt audience, which was precisely what I was trying to avoid. If a nobleman demanded my presence, I’d be obliged to obey, and that would definitely delay my search for my mother. I didn’t know how much time I had to do whatever needed to be done, but I the sooner I did whatever it was, the better off I’d be.

  At the top of the grand marble staircase leading to the front entrance, my escort stopped, offering his arm to see me to the bottom. Switching my lute to my left hand, I set my arm on his, feeling terribly awkward about being treated as a highborn. More so since he hadn’t been so polite when dragging me through the streets and into the house.

  The guard saw me directly to the conservatory. Despite the stone walls, it was relatively light and airy, its wooden furnishings a pale pine with fabrics the color of spring in the various pillows and cushions and draperies. My admiration of the room came to an abrupt halt the moment I met with a pair of familiar green eyes.

  “Ah, here she is at last!” Mayor Trundell said as he rose from his stuffed leather chair. He took my arm from the guard and presented me at the head of the room, his chest puffed with pride. “Your Highness, My Lord DeBauch, Lady Jacinda, may I present Mistress Jacqueline, a Bard traveling through these parts of recent. She comes with the highest of recommendations from the nearby towns, and I went to great lengths to have her here for your visit.”

  Great lengths? I flashed him a confused look, but held my tongue. He’d not mistreated me, so there was no reason for me to contradict him. Still, it sat ill with me that he’d lie to impress a few nobles.

  The company stood, Lady Jacinda pushing her way to the forefront to greet me first. Her eyes sparkled with extreme curiosity, but she simply stood there, waiting.

  Abruptly, I realized she was waiting for me. Praying to the spirits I didn’t fall over in the pounds of fabric draped around me, I dipped a hasty curtsy. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, My Lady.”

  Her smile was instantly more welcoming. “I’m quite keen to see you play,” she said, her dark curls bouncing a little as she acknowledged me with a nod. “I’ve not had the fortune to see a Bard perform before. I’ll be sure to make diligent notes later.”

  “Notes, My Lady?”

  Lord DeBauch stepped forward. “My wife enjoys a more academic approach to the arts,” he said. His smile was warmer than the lady’s had been, but still distant. He held out his palm, and I set my hand in his, curtsying once more. “Lord Gregor DeBauch of Dobney, and I assure you, the pleasure is ours, Lady Bard.”

  “I… Thank you, My Lord. I hope I live up to the mayor’s high praise.”

  The pair stepped away, leaving me face to face with whom I could only assume was one of Aaron’s brothers. His eyes were the same startling green, and his hair a slightly lighter shade of Aaron’s burnished gold. Unlike Aaron, however, his smile was neither smug nor pretentious, but welcoming. His shoulders were broader, his arms more powerful, and he towered a good foot above me as well, where Aaron was little taller than I was.

  As Lord DeBauch had done, he took my hand, but he bowed as I bent to curtsy, a surprising show of respect to someone with no standing at all. My face heated, embarrassed by the display, and even more by my own reaction to it.

  “Thank you for agreeing to entertain us,” he said, his voice holding the same charming qualities as his smile. “I’m Prince Willem Maldavian, youngest son of King Ivor.” He paused, his head tilted at the slightest angle as his brows drew down. “It’s nice to finally meet you.” He cleared his throat and straightened. “The mayor’s told us a great deal about you.”

  So he was the brother Aaron missed so much. I immediately understood what Aaron said about setting others at ease, though Prince Willem had rather the opposite effect on me. Strange fluttering sensations tickled my stomach when he looked at me, and I thought I might burst into giggles at any moment, which would be horribly inappropriate of me. What would the man think of me then? I’d be nothing more than a silly little child.

  Lord DeBauch’s chuckle startled me. “I believe you’ve rendered her speechless, Will. Give the girl some space or we’ll not get a sound out of her.”

  My face burned hotter than before, and I willed my tongue to form words. “It’s an honor to meet you, Your Highness. I beg your pardon if my nerves get the better of me. This is all…” I clutched my lute in front of me, staring a hole into the floor. “It’s all very new to me.”

  Lady Jacinda stole up beside me, hooking my arm as she dragged me over to the plush settee. “How fascinating. You’ve only just come into your abilities then?”

  I nodded. “Yes, My Lady. Until a few weeks ago, I’d no idea I had any abilities at all. And now…” I cast a sideways glance at Prince Willem. “Well, if you’ll forgive my manners, it’s only for lack of experience.”

  “A new Bard starting on her path to learning her talent, now this is an experiment I’m truly happy for.” Lady Jacinda looked to her husband, grinning with glee. “At last I’ll get to see something interesting on this trip of yours, Gregor.”

  Lord DeBauch laughed and took a seat across from his wife. “She’s a girl, not an experiment, dearest.”

  “Anything can be an experiment,” she said, sniffing a little. “And after dragging me all over the kingdom on this frivolous diplomatic tour, you could at least indulge me this once. I only mean that it will be intriguing to see how her skill now compares to her skill in a few years, once she’s better learned it. Doesn’t that interest you in the slightest?”

  Prince Willem smiled. “Let’s have her play for us first before we decide how to persuade her to make an appearance for us in ten years.”

  “Do you think she would?”

  Listening to them talk about me as though I wasn’t there was a stark reminder of my station. After all, despite being a Bard, I
was still a commoner.

  “I think if we ignore her any longer, she might get up and leave,” he said with a laugh, almost as though he could read my thoughts.

  I wondered for a moment if perhaps he’d been gifted with personable qualities the way his brother had been with musical instruments.

  “Now, Lady Bard,” he said, “would you do us the honor of hearing you play?”

  Catching myself staring at him, I averted my eyes to my lute, intent on tuning it. “What would His Highness like to hear?”

  When he didn’t respond immediately, I glanced up. The expression on his face struck me as odd, though I couldn’t quite decipher it. He seemed melancholy, but not in a way I’d attribute to something I was familiar with. I’d certainly seen my father’s face when he mumbled about my mother’s absence. Despite it all, I think he loved her, and it broke his heart to find her gone. Prince Willem’s sadness didn’t look that way, so I wouldn’t say he was pining for a woman. Perhaps it was the state of Litania that bothered him, though my experience with his family so far hadn’t convinced me of any selflessness in that regard. I reasoned it was possible he missed his brother as much as the elder missed him, and decided to play something that might speak to such a heartache.

  In my recent travels, I’d heard many new songs, but none that seemed as fitting as one I’d played before. And if Aaron knew it, maybe Prince Willem would take some comfort in hearing it again.

  “I think I’ve one you might like, Highness,” I said with a small, understanding smile. “If it’s too much, though, you may stop me at any time. I’ve only played this once before, and the reaction was…” I paused, searching for the right words. “It was more than I expected it would be.”

  He motioned for me to begin with a wave of his hand and a nod of understanding. “Then, please, you have our attention.”

  To keep myself from flushing again, I focused on the song, closing my eyes as I strummed the opening chords to the Lost Love of Falinor Meadow. The world fell away as the music swept me up in the story, my voice bringing the characters to life as their tragedy played out once again. The notes tumbled from my fingers, flowing as water over pebbles in a stream. I rose and fell with the melody, and it spun around me in a great whirlwind of sound. As I played, nothing disturbed my absolute calm. Only when the last bars thrummed through my lute did the haze begin to clear. The world returned, and I opened my eyes.

  The audience that had only been the three nobles and the mayor had grown as I played, with every servant in the house crowded near the door and spilling into the room, all of their faces wet with tears. Once again, I found myself surrounded by the grief brought on by my music, and I immediately sought to fix it. Another breath, and I lit into a tune I’d heard three towns ago: a bouncy reel to give thanks for the bountiful harvest to come. To sing of days of plenty, of warm sunshine and cool breezes, of full bellies and happy days made my heart soar. Before long, the gathered crowd clapped and stomped along in time with me. Cheers replaced tears, for which I was very grateful.

  When both songs were complete, I needed a small rest. As the mayor’s assistant, Hugo, shooed out the staff, I accepted a glass of water from Mayor Trundell. He, Lady Jacinda, and Lord DeBauch gushed over my performance, arguing amongst themselves what they might have me play next, and how wonderful it was to hear such a Bard play. I was mostly left out of the discussion, and my attention drifted elsewhere.

  Unlike the others, Prince Willem did not look pleased. He stared at me from his seat, nearly scowling.

  “Are you displeased with me, Your Highness?” I asked, rethinking every note of my songs. “I know you must be accustomed to far finer musicians than—”

  “How are you possible?”

  I blinked at him. “Highness?”

  He stood and left the room, leaving me speechless when the front door slammed behind him. What had I done to cause anger?

  “Oh, dear,” Lady Jacinda said. “There he goes again.”

  My eyes flicked to the mayor, instantly reading the bulging vein in his neck as severe displeasure, likely blaming me for the Prince’s abrupt departure.

  “Not to worry, my good lady,” Lord DeBauch said. “He gets that way sometimes. His moods are less predictable than the wind these last years, and one never knows what will cause him to shift.”

  I pressed my lips together, keeping my panicked tears at bay. “I’m sorry my playing offended him. I only wanted—”

  “There now, you mustn’t blame yourself.” Lady Jacinda reached over to pat my hand. “Your talent is astounding. Not a dry eye in the house for the first one, and only smiles for the second. When I say I couldn’t be more pleased at how skilled you are, I say so honestly. To think you’ve only just begun learning makes me positively giddy to know how you’ll progress. If it isn’t too much trouble, would you play a little more?”

  “Of course, My Lady.” Quietly, I turned to my lute again, hoping I’d not earned two enemies over the matter of song.

  After nearly two hours of music and stories, I was exhausted and Prince Willem was still nowhere to be found. My escort guard, now a bit kinder to me after hearing me play, all but carried me up to the room I’d been granted for my stay. I was barely out of my dress before I was sound asleep in bed.

  Sometime after midnight, I sat up, awoken by the strangest dream. Wandering through a dense fog, someone spoke to me from hazy shadows, whispering urgent words I couldn’t understand. The last time I’d had such a dream, it was music, not words, that called to me. It wasn’t so much frightening as it was unsettling, and enough so that it got me out of bed.

  After lighting a small lamp, I left my room, wandering down the stairs and through the silent house. My restlessness carried me out to the courtyard behind the house, and I sat on a stone bench to gaze at the stars. Little in life ever granted me as much calm as the sparkling night sky.

  As I counted the pinpoints of light, I hummed to myself. My mother’s lullabies always soothed me when I was a child. Even years later, the memory of her soft voice could chase away some of my fears. Minutes passed for me in that manner, until at last the uneasy feelings within me subsided to quiet echoes.

  “Trouble sleeping?”

  The sudden voice behind me sent my heart racing. I jumped up from the bench, pulling my wrap tightly around me as I spun to see my unannounced visitor.

  “I’m sorry,” Prince Willem said, “it seems I owe you an apology twice over now.”

  When he stepped towards me, I backed up a pace, still trying to get a hold on myself. “I didn’t know anyone was out here.”

  “I saw your light on my way to bed. I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

  I swallowed, flustered, but finally remembering my manners. “Your Highness is free to go where he pleases. I’d never assume to tell you otherwise.” I bent in a curtsy, but he stepped around the bench to stop me.

  “There’s no need for that right now,” he said with a kind smile. “Please, sit.”

  Nervous, I did as he bade me, though any respite I’d gotten was thoroughly destroyed. His eyes were a harsh reminder of the fate I’d escaped at the hands of his brother’s giantess, and it was hard not to immediately confess the story to him.

  Prince Willem sat beside me on the bench, my little lamp between us. He tilted his head back to look at the sky as I fidgeted with the ends of my shawl. “I’m deeply sorry for my behavior today. I wanted you to know that.”

  “It was my fault, Highness,” I murmured. “I shouldn’t have agreed to play for you without much practice.”

  He chuckled quietly. “You’re a strange young woman, for sure. Even a new Bard on their first day is far greater a performer than a normal musician would be after a lifetime of practice. It wasn’t that your skill was too little, but that it was too great.”

  My ignorance was painfully embarrassing. “I wouldn’t really know. Music wasn’t exactly in abundance for me back home.”

  “Then you’ll have to take my word for i
t, I suppose,” he said. “May I ask you something?”

  I frowned. “Do you need permission?”

  He released a long sigh. “Yes. I won’t force you to speak with me if you’d rather not. My position grants me many privileges, but it does get old never being called by my name, or having every statement I make seen as an order.”

  Despite myself, I giggled a little. “Yes, I’m sure having one’s every desire met by an army of servants is very taxing.” Horrified that my tongue had gotten away from me so quickly, I covered my mouth with a hand, stunned by my behavior. I winced, expecting the worst.

  Instead, he laughed. At first, I wasn’t sure of it, but when I looked at him, his eyes glittered with mirth, his mouth turned up in a grin. “Much better than a patronizing statement of sympathy. I prefer honesty any day.”

  I ducked into my shoulders. “Well, honesty is about as rare a thing as kindness these days. I try to spare both where I can.”

  “Hmm…” He murmured, his expression darkening. “Unfortunately, after what I’ve seen the past few weeks, I’m inclined to agree with you.”

  “Sire?”

  Prince Willem stretched and rolled his neck. “I was sent on a goodwill mission of sorts. It was my job to travel around the kingdom, lifting morale and such. It started out well enough, but the longer I’ve been away, the more I’ve seen how hard my father’s war with the giants has been on the people. There’s more wrong than a smile and wave from me could ever fix.”

  It was terrible of me, but I couldn’t help thinking that a smile and wave from him would do quite a lot to cheer me up. I discarded the ridiculous notion and looked away. Sure as I was breathing, it was certain I was blushing again.

  “The war will end someday, Highness,” I said, hoping to change the subject soon. Even as I said it, the urge to confess his brother’s location rose up louder than before. But I couldn’t get involved with that yet, if ever. I had a mission, and, besides, why would anyone believe my story about a giant beanstalk and a castle in the clouds?