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

by Starla Huchton

  My mother pulled away from me to look at him. “Do you love her?”

  “Mother!” My face burned in embarrassment.

  “Without reservation.”

  Admitting as much to me was startling, but to say so to my mother? I was shocked into silence. His expression was as solid and unwavering as stone, so earnest I felt utterly powerless in its shadow.

  “Even if her actions result in irreparable changes in your family?”

  His brows drew down, expressing the same confusion swirling inside myself. “What changes?”

  She stood, looking down on him with skepticism. “To stop this war, she may be forced to make a choice. Those who can’t be swayed from this violence may require another solution.”

  I gasped back an urge to vomit when I realized what other solution she had in mind. “I could never go so far. I won’t.”

  “You may not have a choice, Jack,” she said. “There is evil is this world that cannot be altered, only stopped.”

  I got to my feet, furious. “There is always another way. And even if not,” I focused on Will, reading the torn disgust on his face, “I’d never ask another person to condone such an action. Whatever choices must be made, they’re mine, and I won’t run from the consequences of whatever it is I do of my own free will.”

  He shut his eyes and sighed. “She’s right, Jack.”

  “What? How can you say—”

  “He’s changed these past few years. The man I knew as my father has been replaced by a stranger. Before this war began, before my brother left, he would never have contemplated such an undertaking. I fear that, so long as he lives, this purpose is the only thing of importance. So much defeat with no results has turned him into a man bent on destruction. Whatever it is you must do to protect our people, and everyone affected by this war, I’ll not question you.”

  I clutched at the Resonant Stone, frustrated tears burning on my cheeks. “You speak of it as though I’ve already carried out his execution.”

  He shook his head. “I speak of it as a man who sees the truth in your mother’s words. It’s a very real possibility. Being prepared for that eventuality will steel me against it should it come to pass.”

  “Practicality is a poor excuse for lack of hope.”

  “Jack—”

  I waved him off. “Do what you must. I’ll keep the hope for all of us.” Turning away from him, I firmed up my resolve, looking to my mother for the next step on my journey. “Tell me what I must do.”

  She studied my face, perhaps searching it for any second thoughts I had. With none to show her, she nodded in affirmation. “You must go to the center of the battle. Winning the hearts of the soldiers is important, but convincing those who lead them is crucial. They must be there as well.”

  “Get the king to the front lines?” I nearly laughed. “He doesn’t strike me as a man given to such behavior.”

  “Actually,” Willem said. “He’s planned a visit to the main encampment next week. As the festival here was intended to lift the morale of the civilian population, he’s seeking to bolster his soldiers as well. Since they can’t withdraw from their position, he means to go to them.” He bit back a sad smile. “It was actually my suggestion from a letter I wrote him as I traveled. I visited Gustave, who leads the fight from the field, and I was quite adamant that hearing conviction from the lips of their king, and seeing his determination and faith, would give them the fuel they needed to continue fighting. He plans to leave in two days’ time.”

  “Then we shall accompany him,” my mother said. “Certainly he’d not turn down such an offer. It would give us time to soften him to the idea of peace as well.”

  The thought of spending days in a carriage with King Ivor turned my stomach. “I’ll not be traveling that way. I have other means of doing so that don’t involve being leered at.”

  “But, Jack—”

  I cut off her argument. “You can do what you can to convince him as you go. What I’ll have to do requires a lighter spirit than what I’d have after so many hours in his company. I need time. I need to be inspired. If I’m to save everyone, I need reminders that they’re worth saving, things to hold on to, to focus on, if I hope to sway others with my feelings.”

  “And when do you plan to go?” Willem said quietly.

  I considered him, torn between his happiness and the freedom of the sky. Time was running out, but I could give him some of what was left.

  “I’ll leave in the morning.”

  Chapter 19

  After lunch a carriage saw me back to the Minkov home to collect my things and say goodbye. Prudence pleaded with teary eyes for me to stay, but her parents did their best to console her. I tried to return the fine clothing they’d given me, but was offered a trade instead. A fresh tunic and breeches and a sturdy traveling cloak replaced form with function, and it was the only way they’d let me leave. I did promise Prudence I’d return to see the doll she’d begun crafting in my likeness, knowing that if I died on my mission there’d be little pain involved in breaking my word to her.

  I returned to the castle to discover I had dinner plans and attire already set for me. A gown of spring green silk awaited me, which I was promptly bustled into as though I were one of Prudence’s dolls. As tight as the maid laced the corset, it was a wonder I could breathe at all, but it would provide a good excuse not to sing that evening.

  Roasted meats and decadent sweets filled the evening to overflowing. Kela regaled us with a fine story from the wildlands, and Jī-Shae and Sudam sang and played together after the meal. It was all so wonderful, I nearly forgot the myriad of concerns facing me come dawn.

  At last the entertainment came to a close, and we all drifted our separate ways. My mother left me with a look of caution when I parted from her on my way to my room, but said nothing when she caught sight of Willem waiting not far down the hall. He smiled as I approached, a warm feeling blooming in my stomach when I met his gaze. Ten steps from him, I opened my mouth to make a joke, but a sudden shift in his expression stopped me.

  A hand closed over my arm.

  “Lady Bard, your presence is requested elsewhere,” a guard said as he turned me around.

  “What? Where?”

  He pulled me forward, heading in the direction I’d come from. “King Ivor seeks an audience with you in his private study. This way, please.”

  A spike of fear shot through me, and I glanced back to Will’s stunned and angry face for any sign of what I should do. By the color he was turning, he looked ready to do something he’d severely regret. Thinking fast, I composed myself and shook my arm free of the guard. “If it’s not too much trouble, could I fetch my lute? I’d hate to meet His Majesty empty-handed.”

  The guard’s smile chilled me. “I’m sure he finds your other talents equally entertaining. There’s no need for your lute tonight.”

  With that, his hand on my back left no more room for questions or argument. Whether I liked it or not, King Ivor demanded my attention. Not to be brushed aside so easily, Will followed at a distance, far enough away that only I saw him hidden in the shadows before I was marched into the royal chambers.

  The door closed behind me with a click of finality. For a moment, the only sound in the room was the crackle of the fireplace, the light from the flames lending a reddish glow to the shining leather and wood of the king’s private study. At last, a figure stirred from one of the chairs before the hearth, and King Ivor stood. His regal robes and jewels were gone, with nothing more than his exquisitely tailored tunic and breeches remaining to speak to his wealth. With the fire behind him, he was an inky silhouette against the light, and none too comforting a specter in my circumstances.

  “Make yourself at home, dear lady,” he said, beckoning me closer. “I only wish for quiet conversation this evening. To relax after a long day.”

  If he thought I believed that for a moment, he certainly was a fool, although his words did spark the beginning of an idea.

  �
��Your Majesty must be quite exhausted,” I said as I stepped forward, cautious. “I imagine tending to the entirety of a kingdom is dreadfully tiring work.”

  He stepped around his chair and gave a flourishing wave. “Yes, it does wear on one.” He held out a hand to me. “Though I’m not so tired I wouldn’t enjoy the company of a gifted young woman such as yourself.”

  When I reached him, I took his fingers lightly and dipped a curtsy. “You’re too kind, Your Highness, but I hardly think I’m the most interesting company you’ve ever met with.” As I rose, he lifted my hand to his lips, his stiff mustache harsh against my skin. It was a monumental effort on my part not to shudder. “To what do I owe the honor of this audience?”

  The king didn’t release my hand, instead holding it close to his chest. My revulsion threatened to get the better of me, but I kept my expression as unreadable as I could.

  “You are a most enchanting young woman,” he said. His breath smelled of onions and wine, doing nothing to ease my curdling stomach. “I see why the people are so taken with you.”

  “Are they?” I squeaked, clearing my throat immediately. “Are they? I don’t think I’m so special as that.”

  My mind raced, searching for some way out of the situation that didn’t end in a forgotten cell in the dungeon.

  “You move with unparalleled grace and purpose,” he said, inching closer to me, “and your songs hold a beautiful magic I’d be hard-pressed to find in equal anywhere.”

  If only I had my lute…

  I stopped, realizing my folly. I didn’t need a lute to have defenses. The beginning of my idea bloomed into a fully-formed plan in an instant.

  “If His Majesty is so fond of my dancing,” I said and forced a smile, “perhaps you’d do me the pleasure of sharing one with me now?”

  I shifted my stance, tentatively setting a hand on his shoulder. Without any hesitation on his part, King Ivor held my waist, pulling me to him with an eagerness that said much about his intentions for me. Revealing none of my inner terror, I found my voice, humming a tune very few would know, but which would serve me well that night. I set my mother’s lullaby in time with a waltz, taking the first step to encourage him. I started softly, gradually growing louder, increasing the intensity of my singular desire for him.

  Sleep.

  When his eyelids grew heavy, I poured on the focus, keeping my gaze locked on him and serene smile nailed in place. His feet shuffled along, barely moving by the time we made it around to his chair by the fire. Only then did I dare the words, lending full force to my intent.

  Still thy worries, restless child,

  Let your heart sink into peace.

  Shadows are not things to fear,

  But faces of friends unseen.

  Feel not but love as sleep descends.

  I’m with you all the night.

  Still thy worries, restless child,

  The morrow brings sunshine again.

  When his eyes closed and his knees gave out, I was barely able to guide him to the seat. So much dead weight was generally more than I could handle, but I managed to prop him comfortably. Three times through the lullaby, and I headed for the door, humming again. I trailed off as I slipped outside, quite proud of how I’d handled the lecherous advances of King Ivor of Litania.

  Someone’s hand closed over my mouth from behind, dragging me off into the shadows. I struggled, biting down on bare fingers with a startled cry.

  “Shh! Jack, it’s me,” Willem whispered crossly in my ear.

  I stilled instantly.

  “Can you keep quiet?” he said.

  I nodded.

  Without another word, he took my hand and pulled me around the corner, ducking into the first room we came across. Not stopping, he gripped the frame of a giant painting, swinging it open as a door on a hinge. Too stunned to ask, I followed him through dark passages, turning every direction he led. Finally, we stepped through another door, this one behind a false wall of stone draped with a tapestry. He released my hand and hurried across the bedroom, locking the door there before running through the bathing room to do the same.

  “There,” he said when he returned. “We should be safe now.”

  Looking around, it was not my chambers he’d brought me to, though it was similar. “Safe from what? Where are we?”

  “From my father, mostly,” he explained. “And this is my room. No one will bother you here.”

  After what I’d dealt with not long before, I couldn’t help but laugh a little.

  “What’s so funny?”

  I giggled again. “It’s just… It’s a bit out of the frying pan, into the fire, isn’t it?”

  “What?”

  A knowing look was all the explanation I gave.

  “That’s not…” he stammered, then marched up in front of me, defensive. “I was about to barge in and steal you from his clutches, I’ll have you know.”

  I bit back a smile. “Oh, were you now?”

  “I was.”

  “Good thing for us that I have my own tricks then, or we might both have spent the night in a damp cell.”

  He leaned up against the bedpost, studying me. “How did you get away?”

  I shook my head and laughed. “Watch your step with me or you might find out firsthand.”

  His smile was soft, eyes glittering in the moonlight filtering in from the balcony. “And here I thought I’d learned all your secrets.”

  Grateful that he’d been willing to risk so much for my safety, I approached him and touched his face. “Even I don’t know all of my secrets, Highness. How could you?”

  Willem set his hand against mine, his expression shifting into concern. “You’re certain you’re unharmed?”

  I nodded.

  “Then that’s all I need know.” Grasping my fingers, he brushed a kiss against my palm. “You can stay here tonight and leave before first light. I brought your things, so if they go looking for you, they’ll think you’ve already gone.”

  “That’s incredibly forward of you.”

  With a gentle touch, he pushed a stray hair behind my ear. “You’re safe here, Jack. I swear I’ll be nothing but a gentleman where you’re concerned.”

  Sighing, I stepped up to him, needing the security of his arms around me. My head rested against his chest as his warmth enveloped me without question.

  “I think it’ll be a few long, lonely days ahead of me,” I said. “The company might be nice tonight.”

  He bent his head to mine, whispering into my hair. “As you wish.”

  Movement beneath me stirred me awake. I yawned, rubbing at an eye. “Did I fall asleep?”

  His chuckle rumbled in his chest. “A few hours ago as I was talking. It was terribly rude of you.”

  I snuggled deeper against him. “Sorry. I tried to stay awake.”

  “It’s completely fine,” he said, kissing the top of my head. “I’m glad you got some rest.”

  Reluctantly, I propped myself up, looking down at him. “What time is it?”

  He released a long, slow breath. “Nearly time for me to let you go.”

  The sadness in his eyes was reflected in my heart, but I tried to smile for him. “Don’t worry so much. I’ll see you again soon.”

  “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

  I frowned. “You know I’d stay if I could. Please don’t—”

  His kiss stopped me cold, and my words disappeared.

  “I know. I’m sorry. I won’t upset you like that,” he said against my mouth. “I made a promise to you, and I intend to keep it. I won’t cause you grief over things you can’t control.”

  After my escape from the king’s clutches, we’d spent hours talking quietly. He told me stories about his childhood, gave me information about the army encampments on both sides, and did it all with enough light joking to keep my spirits up, rather than letting me concentrate on what was coming. I stared into his amazing green eyes, grateful to him for keeping me from driving myself
crazy thinking about the things I had to do.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “For what?”

  “Plenty of things,” I said with a shrug, “but mostly this. It was nice being here with you, everything else aside. It’s good to know I have a friend like you.”

  He laid a hand against my cheek, the sparkle in his eye fading some. “Is that what we are?”

  “It’s what’s most important, I think.” Pressing my forehead to his, I closed my eyes. “It’s the one thing I can hold on to for certain. I could never promise anyone anything else, no matter how much I want to.”

  “Jack…”

  “Hmm?”

  “Do you think you ever could?”

  “Could what? Promise more? I’m a Bard. You know I—”

  “I’d wait forever if you told me you loved me. You know that, don’t you?”

  “That seems like a lot of pressure to put on a girl of sixteen. I’ll never say it if you tell me such things.”

  “But—”

  I sat up and fixed him with a deadly serious look. “I mean it. If you tell me that were I to say to you what you’ve said to me, that’d you’d reject every other woman who came along because of a promise you made to a girl you might not see more than once a year or longer, I will never say those words to you. You’re a prince. You have responsibilities to the people. I know how it works. There are things you need to do that I can’t help you with.”

  “And you think I’d be happy that way?” He scowled at me.

  “As happy as I am with it,” I snapped back. “Do you think I say this lightly? Do you think I don’t mourn for the things my nature refuses me?”

  With a sigh of frustration, he pulled me back into his arms. “I’d remind you of your words, Jack. There is always a way.”

  “But I won’t see you suffer over me,” I mumbled into his shoulder.

  “Some people are worth suffering for.”

  Resigned, I decided to let it go. Nothing I could say was going to convince him not to love me, and I needed to save my strength for things I could do something about. “You’re stubborn.”