Alexander joined them from time to time, only when Corinna helped prepare dinner and included some generous portion of meat for him. According to Belle, magically grown or produced foods were virtually harmless for Alexander if he ate too much. She wasn’t sure if it was due to his greater need for food since he was larger than everyone else, or if it was in fact because he was partly magic himself because of his curse.
Tonight Alexander would not join them. It was a Sunday, and he always hid away in his room on Sundays. At first, Corinna thought it was because he was religious with the new God, but Alexander assured Corinna that the only super power he believed in now was whatever monstrous force gave power to the evil witches and other such magical beings that were out there. No, Alexander said. Sunday was the day he reread all old letters from his mother and father and any new ones that had arrived. He read them to feel attached to something again, but it was a private moment for him and so he refused to let Corinna in on the event. Corinna considered it a victory that Alexander had even told her what went on behind those large, closed doors when everyone else was busy.
After dinner and cleanup, Corinna said goodnight to Veronica, Belle, and Gavin, and trekked up three flights of stairs to her room. She had looked and decided that the other set of rooms on her side of the floor were vacant, that the two rooms were somehow meant for children, or perhaps mistresses, of the lord who lived on the other side. Alexander had no one else and so they were all vacant until Corinna had moved into one of them.
In her room, Corinna passed the time reading up on rose gardening. Loam soil was best for roses, but it was easier to create near the ocean, where clay and pure sand were more readily available. Corinna would need to look for silt soils, which was the second best option. The book had special, intriguing ideas on how to fertilize the roses that Corinna had never thought of before, such as placing banana peels around the bases of the bushes. The book made it sound so obvious that Corinna almost felt silly for never thinking of it and wondered how her flowers had grown so beautifully without these techniques.
After two chapters on roses, Corinna set that book aside and lifted a new one from under her make-shift bed. It read ‘Piano for Beginners’ on the cover, but it was mostly theory and memorization of key placement on the keyboard. Corinna held her hand out as she read and pretended to hit the keys. Only in the middle of the afternoon would she ever try to actually play piano in the music room. The music room was too close to Alexander’s room for her to comfortably try out her pathetic skills, but it was all she had since the ballroom was always locked. Alexander could play beautifully no matter where he was, or so Corinna had to assume. Alexander never played during the day. But Corinna would play. She would play while Gavin was with the horses and Belle was hanging laundry. Alexander was up in his room doing whatever his heart desired, Veronica might as well have been a ghost for all her presence, and Morgana was unresolved. Corinna tried to avoid her at all costs but otherwise pretended she did not exist.
After her first few attempts to play the piano failed, Veronica had slid the beginner’s book under her door. She knew it was her because they had passed each other on the stairs immediately after she had done it. At this stage in her skill building, thanks to the book, Corinna could slowly key out short children’s rhymes and lullabies. Mostly she practiced in her head, but she wasn’t completely terrible on the piano either.
Corinna did all the theory she could manage without physically touching the piano and then set that book aside as well. A bird flew by the windows, lightly skimming the glass and wall with its wing. The raven haired girl stood from her couch and walked to the windows. It was dark outside. The sun had set. However, she could still make out the basic outline of the forest top, and the yard below was awash with moonlight.
From so high, Corinna could see Morgana in the garden, but she couldn’t begin to imagine what she was doing in there. The witch walked from bush to bush in a lazy yet dignified manner and picked up different bulbs into her palms. What she was doing to them or if she was talking to them as well remained unclear. Perhaps she could hear them speaking to her in return. Corinna almost moved to go talk to her about the whispering she’d heard in the garden from time to time, but her dark and ominous likeness flashed in Corinna’s mind and kept her up in the room, away from her.
She moved back to the couch and reached into her bag for another book. Instead of some farmer’s tale of woe or a children’s book her mother may or may not have given her on her fifth birthday, Corinna pulled out a lightly glimmering, blue book. The Old Religion and Other Myths, the cover read. It was truly magical. Every other time Corinna opened it, the pages flipped instantly to the creature curse, but tonight it lay flat and waiting, pages anxious. Corinna wasn’t looking for anything tonight, nothing specific anyway. The book knew that and responded accordingly.
Slowly, Corinna flipped through the pages and read what each spell was for. The first section of the book was on healing arts, spells, and ceremonies. They involved specific herbs which, when used incorrectly, could backfire horribly. True masters of their craft could cure any illness known to the earth and sky. Sadly, curses were not illnesses, and as such no cures for curses were in this section. Corinna understood.
The second section was for more offensive spell work. Spells to blast the enemies back from oneself, to burst open doors or walls, and spells to harness nature – air into breezes and tornados, fire into a stove or a blaze, plants into homes or food, and water into rivers or raging storms. Powerful, destructive magic was easy to create but hard to control. Most users could conjure the forces, but their swells and gales died off easily, or ran off in the wrong direction to run their courses and faded away.
Corinna looked at her hand and then down to the book. On the page was a picture of an arm, the hand outstretched, fingers bent as though playing with a puppet. The word ‘leccan’ was written on the top part of the page. ‘To water’ was written beside it, and under it was a picture of a plant. Corinna walked over to the fireplace, where flames gently licked up a piece of wood, and put her hand out as it was shown in the book.
“Leccan,” she said forcefully, staring intently at the flames. When nothing happened, she frowned. The flames were still there. She tried again and again, inflection hanging on each syllable differently. Perhaps she was speaking it wrong. “Water the flames, already,” she growled after her fifteenth attempt to douse them.
Still she received no response of any kind. Corinna walked back to her couch and shut the book. She could learn a great deal about sorcerers, their ceremonies, the sources of their power, and their history inside this book, and yet she would never be able to use it. She wasn’t a magician, no powerful sorcerer. She couldn’t even cast a simple watering spell. Sadly, it would appear that finding love truly would be the only cure for Alexander’s curse. They certainly wouldn’t be able to count on Corinna’s amazing magical abilities to save the day.
“Sorry, Alexander. I guess we have to beat this the hard way,” she murmured to herself. She cast her eyes to the mantel and the clock that sat there. Ten minutes to midnight. Corinna nodded, slipped the book back into her bag, and left her dim, yellow room.
Without the use of a lamp or lantern, Corinna navigated the stairwell to the bottom level. She slipped a step on the newly polished floor but caught herself before she could ruin the job. Moving quickly, but quietly, she moved up to the door of the ballroom. Inside, she could hear the soft tones of the grandfather clock striking midnight. Alexander’s voice could be heard as the last one rang out into the night, louder than the rest. He was… It almost sounded like he was panting loudly, or crying. But Alexander wasn’t one for crying.
“Alexander,” Belle began, but a loud smashing of keys cut her off.
“A sonata,” Alexander huffed out, sounding slightly beast-like in his human form. “In tribute to hope.”
And the music flooded out under the door for Corinna to hear. Soft, somber notes that, despite Alexander’s dedication
, sounded more and more like a song in tribute to loneliness and hopelessness. Corinna frowned. She needed to inspire Alexander in this Autumn. The roses were dying because Alexander was losing hope. Even Corinna saying there was a cure didn’t seem to help this song.
Corinna knew what she could do. It had been a month since she told Alexander she would help him, but so far she’d only been alone with the prince for a total of ten minutes. Other than that, they only saw each other at meals. No. If Corinna was truly going to help Alexander, she would actually need to sit with him, talk with him, perhaps even try to befriend him. If this song was any indication, Corinna had a lot of work to do.
The sorrowful tones moved up to a crescendo and then all at once died out. Corinna frowned. And that was the symbolism of Alexander’s death. She could almost swear by it.
“My lord,” Belle’s voice escaped the following silence. “Not to be rude or anything… but that was horrible.”
“Excuse me?”
“Well… I’m just hoping to point out that you lost rhythm in the second bar… and your title for it doesn’t match in the slightest.”
Silence. Corinna waited for another vase to smash to the floor, more sour notes to be crushed out of the piano, or at least some angry growling and yelling from the prince himself. Instead, there was merely silence. And then, growing out of the stillness was a rising bubble of a laugh. It wasn’t altogether loud, but it was audible and definitely not angry. Alexander was laughing.
Corinna felt her chest jump a heartbeat, and, for the first time since she arrived in the castle, it wasn’t out of fear.
-- --- -- --- -- --- -- ---
“Okay, we can do this, but only if you promise not to laugh at me,” Corinna said, stepping onto the second floor.
“It was your idea to begin with. Don’t put conditions on it,” Alexander huffed behind her.
Corinna led Alexander to the music study, where she expected to need to make the space useable. However, when they arrived the windows were thrown wide open to let in all the light they could, the instruments were out of the way save for the piano, and the piano itself was all set up and ready. Corinna smiled. She’d only asked Veronica and Belle for help about half an hour ago. They sure worked fast.
“You reorganized the room?” Alexander asked as he stepped into the brightness and covered his eyes. Corinna shrugged.
“No. I asked the girls for help,” she said. Without feeling the need to explain herself, she stepped over to the piano and sat herself down on the bench before it.
“Can you play the piano?” Alexander asked, walking over as well. Corinna noticed that his footsteps weren’t making nearly as much noise as she recalled. In fact, his footsteps must be silent most of the time, or there would be no way he got down to the ballroom every night without Corinna hearing him. He must practice that.
“Oh, you’re talking to the piano master,” Corinna spoke with a flourish. She cracked her fingers and wiggled them, and her eyebrows, suggestively. “Take a seat and maybe I can teach you something.”
Alexander made a laugh that sounded like he may be contemplating how Corinna would taste for dinner but was probably just a snort of disbelief. Corinna knew she couldn’t teach Alexander anything, not in a million years… at least not about the piano. Once the prince was seated, Corinna began.
“Let’s see,” she mused aloud. Slowly, clumsily, she keyed out a sloppy rendition of a Paesaggian lullaby she had found in the book. Once she hit the last note, she sat back and grinned like an idiot up at Alexander. “Oh. I bet you can’t beat that,” she challenged.
Alexander grinned and laughed out loud at Corinna’s skill-less attempt. It was almost endearing, except that with his razor teeth and dog like snout it seemed more like the hollow laugh of a monster to its potential feast. Corinna pushed that thought to the back of her head. She just had to remember that under all this unpleasant exterior was a young, handsome, mostly harmless prince. She could think of this beast state as a costume that Alexander merely enjoyed wearing to scare others away.
“You’re pathetic. Has anyone ever told you?” Alexander asked, a comical sneer on his face. “I could play better than that when I was ten.”
“Prove it,” Corinna challenged with a pout. She scooted over on the chair to make room for Alexander in front of the keys and, despite the limited space, Corinna was pretty sure there might actually be enough of it. Alexander frowned, however, and took a step away from the piano.
“I… I can’t play piano anymore,” he grunted out, looking away from the instrument.
“Why not?” Corinna spun around on the chair until she was facing Alexander. The prince rubbed his furry head and let out a disgruntled snarl.
“Death claws,” he huffed and held out his hand. He glowered at his own paw and moved his fingers back and forth to show their limited usefulness.
“Insignificant,” Corinna said. She stood and walked up to the beast, noticing again how small she seemed next to the other despite her normally tall height for her gender.
“Insignificant?” Alexander repeated harshly. He fisted his hand and growled, the fur over his throat shivering in response. “How is this insignificant? It’s my whole life!”
Corinna frowned in disappointment and shook her head. “Well if that’s the way you’re going to think of it, then I agree. I might as well figure out a way to hop the fence or squeeze through the bars, because I’m utterly useless around here. I might as well tell Morgana to curse my family and my farm and wait out the rest of my pathetic life in a constant state of death until I finally give in to its cold and deteriorating grasp.”
“Excuse me?” Alexander seemed utterly lost, and it occurred to Corinna that the prince may not even remember Morgana’s deal with Alvar, or he may not have known it to begin with, but that was trivial and didn’t matter. Corinna was stuck in the bargain now, one way or the other.
“I’m trying to say that if I’m trapped in this house for the rest of my pathetic life, away from my very loving family and only friend, and I can manage to be happy, then you need to get over this inner drama party and learn to live with yourself. So come on. You can still play the piano. I know it.”
Corinna reached out and set her hand on Alexander’s arm. She let out a small, happy gasp as she felt the fur. It was softer than it looked, softer than she’d imagined, like a silky cat instead of the canine Alexander looked to be. Resisting the urge to simply pet Alexander, Corinna gripped the much larger arm and tugged the prince toward the piano. Alexander seemed too stunned for argument. It could only be because Corinna was touching him. In the state he was, Alexander probably hadn’t felt another person’s touch for a long time. Corinna was still shocked she had managed to do it herself. Still, it wasn’t so horrible.
Alexander barely resisted as Corinna forced him to extend one finger and press down on the key with his giant bear claw. When a note was successfully elicited from the great body of the piano, Corinna grinned and let out a laugh. She looked up at Alexander and nudged him.
“See? Start at the beginning. Anything is possible. Come on. We can practice together,” she said.
Alexander was staring at her; a curious, unusual stare coming from such an animalistic appearance. Corinna almost wanted to look away, but she forced himself to keep eye contact. Through all the fur and teeth, Alexander’s human eyes seemed to finally be looking at Corinna, realizing who their owner had taken in from the world. Corinna felt a shiver run through her body and she finally broke her gaze away. She released Alexander’s arm and cleared her throat.
“So is that a no, then?” she asked, rolling her shoulders and trying to not feel like the situation had turned awkward. Alexander grunted, what must have been him clearing his throat as well, and moved around to take a seat on the piano’s bench.
“I’m only going to do this if you do it too,” he said. “I need to be reminded that there’s someone worse than me.”
“Hey,” Corinna complained, but in t
ruth she was smiling. She slipped onto the bench beside Alexander, and together they sloppily played through the easiest songs in history – Corinna with her clumsy fingers and Alexander with his blundering claws – and they laughed about it so much that even Veronica heard it while she was cleaning the stairs. And she smiled in light of it.
Chapter 14 – The Intrigue Thickens
Dry. That was one way to describe the days of the following two weeks. Also arid, hot, breezeless, and sticky with sweat. The days felt percolated, pulled slowly from one to the next in a series of menial tasks to keep one’s mind off the perspiration. Corinna laid herself out on the tiled floor and missed the running streams of her home where she used to swim on days such as these. Oh what she wouldn’t give to find herself in the cool waters of the White Mountain River, where the currents were almost too fast for her to hold on and staying still long enough brought small fish around to nip at your knees and toes.
“Oh, to be a fish,” Corinna groaned from her position in the Great Hall, her feet flat against the staircase.
Suddenly and all at once, she found herself drenched from head to toe in chilled water. Her eyes sprang open and she spluttered as she pushed herself to a sitting position. She rubbed her face free of water and shook out her short hair, gasping after the unexpected shock. She looked down at her body, every inch soaked through, and heard the distinct sound of hushed chuckles. With a glare, she looked up to the third floor. There was the dismal prince who so often made lists of how unlucky he was, and he was laughing while holding a large, wooden bucket in his hands.
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