Ash Rising

by Katya Lebeque

  Ash kept an eye out for the paradise colours of more starling carriors as they sped towards the palace, but there were none. In fact, there were no carriors at all. When she commented on this, Vanita said that it was probably because they had had their fill from plenty of young ladies leaving the ball last night, which Ash thought was most unlike her.

  Still, Vanita’s telling her what the duke had said about the prince not wanting to marry now had left her free to enjoy herself and she found herself sighing girlishly when the tall, bare trees of the palace grounds came into view, standing like sentinels and festooned with candles as they had been the night before. Vanita did not sigh, said nothing. How strange it was that, all of a sudden, she was getting older and Ash was getting younger.

  As Derrick opened the carriage door for them, Ash was almost sure that she could smell the heady waft of lavender coming off of the dried bushes surrounding the gravelled drive and its central fountain, although of course that was not possible. The walk to the stairs was more vexing now, in the Glass shoes, than it had been in her comfortable old boots. Still, this dress was shorter than her aunt’s offering and the tips of her heels could be seen. And Ash wanted to look pretty.

  “Welcome, welcome,” said the same servant as the night before, when they arrived at the top of the grand staircase. “Please pause a moment while I announce you.”

  “There is no need to announce myself, only my sister -”

  “Yes, yes, I remember. Please note ladies that, should the prince choose a bride at the ball in honour of the Cinderella superstition, the announcement will be made just before midnight according to tradition,” the servant carried on in a bored voice. “Please remember that all ladies must be present at the announcement and that it is unlawful for a proposal to be made binding when the bride is not present, as it is unlawful to refuse an offer of marriage from a crown prince, regent or king. Enjoy your evening.”

  Ash stared at Vanita across the servant’s dry-looking legal paper and list of attendees. “I’m sure it was just tradition, him having to say that,” Vanita whispered as they descended into the ballroom together. “Don’t worry.”

  The same small supply of ladies that had been shy and hunted-looking the night before seemed to have got a scent of the prey since then and flocked around the prince much more boldly than before. Ash could see only some of Rize, surrounded by a gauntlet of three or four flounced skirts and tattered fans all demanding his attentions. She smiled and waved, seeking a quiet pillar somewhere where she could watch the hunt in peace.

  It seemed that there was to be a dance to begin the festivities. The king, speaking to a laughing duke, formally made an elaborate bow to one of the simpering ladies not directly around Rize’s person. The duke bowed to another and, with pointed glances between all three, Rize led out a third. A slow, simple tune rang out as the music began. Pavane.

  Ash leaned back against a pillar, a strange sense of vertigo overtaking her. She wondered at the fact that her brain still remembered what a pavane was and yet at the same time she didn’t. Here, things like carriors and starvation seemed ridiculous, like the stuff of bad dreams. Her muscles coiled at the thought, but as the dance progressed, she leaned against the pillar once more and enjoyed watching everyone else moving.

  A gentle brush of cloth on her bare forearm. Ash looked up - Derrick had moved from standing next to her to standing in front of her. Slowly, awkwardly yet determinedly, the lowered himself into a bow. Then he straightened and looked Ash in her eyes. “Dance with me.”

  Ash followed him out onto the floor, worry bubbling up in her stomach. Derrick was a good hunter and a great servant, a kind and loyal friend. She did not want these people to stare at him and snigger, these who knew nothing of his life. To snub him would have been worse, but how was a commoner going to pull off dancing before the king in the royal ballroom?

  And then his hand was on hers and she could not worry anymore. Then his other hand went to her waist. He sank into the rhythm of the tail end of pavane and took her with him, just swaying gently with his body moving close to hers.

  They moved together like water. He began to step out, turn her and lead and it felt right. When he began to improvise steps to dances, holding a palm up here, spinning her while holding her hands there, she somehow knew what he was going to do and followed him without pause. It took Ash a moment to realise they weren’t following the proper steps, because it was so effortless. It was the same dance they had been doing since they were six years old.

  Derrick smiled at her in her father’s doublet and Ash smiled back. There was nowhere to look but in his eyes. It seemed as though all the world was standing still. He was looking into her eyes too – deep down, below the dress and the carriors and the fear, below even the children they had been, once. That felt right too.

  As the music faded, they slowly came to a stop. It took a moment for Ash to tear her eyes away, to see that everyone else in the ballroom had stopped some time ago.

  They were all looking at her.

  Rize was looking at her.

  Ash felt the heat rise to her face. The concern for Derrick returned – it was simply not done, this, he did not understand…

  Before she could worry further, Rize stepped away from his partner and bowed – another thing that was simply not done if you were a crown prince. He held out his hand and, again, did the customary bow for a dance well performed – he, the prince, bowing to Derrick.

  And then the whole ballroom had to bow, dipping their aristocratic necks and clapping their un-calloused hands for Derrick.

  Thank you, she mouthed to Rize when Derrick was not looking and let her fellow servant lead her off the floor.

  As soon as she was back in the shadows, she felt a cool, small hand take her arm. Vanita. She turned around to see her sister’s white face, unsurprised. She knew Vanita knew the rules as well as her and unlike Derrick she had some idea of the social sins just committed. As Ash looked her full in the face, though, Vanita’s own face softened.

  “Ash?”

  “Yes Vanita?”

  “I just love you, that’s all.”

  Her heart swelled for the fiftieth time that night as she took Vanita’s hand and squeezed it. When had she become so prone to such self-indulgent feelings? It was not good, this. But before she could think of anything to say, any way to remove herself, someone was tapping her on the shoulder.

  “Evening Ash.”

  She curtsied low, trying to be as graceful as possible in the accursed heels. “Your Highness.”

  “Might I interest you in a walk?”

  “Rize, I –”

  But he leaned in close and whispered in her ear. “Don’t worry, I’m sure your not-boyfriend won’t mind.”

  ***

  It was actually refreshing to feel the night air cool on her skin and Ash was glad she came. The prince, she noticed, was wearing gold brocade tonight – much fussier than the simple white of yesterday, but it suited his black hair and tanned skin.

  “It was nice, what you did in there. Thank you.”

  Rize shrugged. “Actually, I thought it was nice what he did for you. Don’t think I haven’t noticed how hard you are on yourself and how you never let yourself have fun.”

  The night air grew colder. “Life has changed. Believe me, I used to have fun. I was the most fearless on the whole estate. I climbed trees like a man, rode in breeches and dived into the lake in my full dress. But back then, there was nothing to fear. Now there is.”

  “And someone to fear for. Your sister is younger than you, I take it?”

  Ash frowned in the dark. “Yes. Why?”

  But when he turned to her, she found he was smiling. “That was even better than I thought – I had a bet with myself about how protective you would sound when I mentioned her. Looks like I won.”

  “Well, congratulations to you.”

  “Oh come on, I was only teasing. She seems sweet, your sister. Now, follow me. The conservatory’s bee
n missing you.”

  Ash allowed herself to smile at this impossible prince’s retreating back. The smile lasted exactly four seconds, until the conservatory came into view.

  A flickering yellow light was coming from inside. Rize was standing still now, looking at it. Ash started walking faster on her unsteady heels, neck craning towards the light. “There must be a fire,” she said to the prince over her shoulder, but she only heard him chuckle in the dark.

  Inside the conservatory, there was no billow of acrid smoke to suggest a blaze. As Ash’s eyes adjusted, she found something quite different to what she expected.

  A few jars of caught fireflies were illuminating a dark circle that became the remains of a fountain when Ash came near it. While it wasn’t the source of the light, it was lovely. The light was just enough to illuminate the ghostly white, fine petals of a few waterlilies, sleepily floating on the fountain’s surface.

  Rize came up beside her. “I wanted to show you some more flowers, but these were the only ones I could think of. For some reason, they haven’t died like all the other plants – something to do with living in the water.” Quietly, almost tenderly, he took her hand and began pulling her away from the fountain. “There’s something else I want to show you.”

  As they came nearer to the end of the conservatory they’d been in the night before, the yellow light increased until, rounding a corner, its source was revealed. The old table with the three blossoms on it had been transformed by several wax candles and two wrought iron chairs had been set out with – unfathomable luxury – a bottle of wine. Ash looked at Rize, dumbstruck and he seemed suddenly bashful and coy.

  “I know it isn’t much – I didn’t want to trouble any servants, especially before a ball, but… Well, I wanted to thank you for last night. I had a certain idea of how the evening was going to go and I was prepared to be polite, to be prince, to stand and smile… But then you arrived, in your boots and that dress, with your brutal honesty and I felt like a real person. You were different, you felt real and that made me feel like I could be real too.”

  Ash noticed that Rize still hadn’t let go of her hand.

  And when we danced, well this may be too much to say but I felt like a boy, who’s met a girl. I’ve never been so forthright with a lady before but, hell, we could both be dead tomorrow. What’s the point in dancing around?”

  A wave of insecurity broke over her, staring at him. “Why me, Rize? I am not fair, I am not soft and meek…”

  He wouldn’t let her finish. “Don’t listen to our parents, our teachers – they’re from the old world. They do not know how it is now, but what they think doesn’t matter. What is needed has changed.” He paused, raking her with his eyes. “What is wanted has changed.” He took her calloused hands in his and pulled her closer. “Your legs are long, good for running,” he said huskily. “Your eyes are clear, good for seeing into things. Your arms are strong, good for pulling your own weight. And your lips –”

  “Alright, that’s quite enough of that, thank you. You’re not getting near my lips so fast, not if you’re the last eligible man on Earth. Which, for all I know, you may well be.” Ash looked at the prince, at the gentle candle glow reflected on the glass panes around them and the softly romantic flowers on the table. She took in the moment, drank in the quit beauty she never expected to feel again. Then, she kissed him full on the mouth. “I like dancing with you.”

  He was coming in for another kiss when a bell chimed out, breaking the moment in two as Ash jumped at the sudden sound. Rize laughed. “They’re calling us back into the ballroom. Or me, more specifically.” He extended a hand to her and they walked out into the night air again, not quite touching but closer, somehow, than they had been five minutes ago.

  As they entered the well-lit ballroom hall again, Rize’s face blankened into a bland, politically correct smile and the way he held Ash subtly changed into a something more polite than familiar. Oh well, she supposed it must be the way of life of a royal – you are not your own. Rather him than me, she thought, as he deposited her on the one side of the dance floor and walked over to the other, to stand with the king, duke and some other, official-looking people.

  “Hear ye, one and all, for the king has an announcement to make.

  All at once, Ash knew what was happening. It was her. He was going to marry her. And once he’d asked, she could not say no.

  At exactly the same time, she felt Vanita come up and grip her hand. “Ash.”

  “I know.” It was her. They were going to announce her.

  “Ash.”

  “It’s me,” she whispered to her sister idiotically, staring at the floor in shock. “What do I do Vanita? What do I do?”

  “Ash!”

  “What?”

  “Ash, this must mean it’s just before midnight. The coach, Ash.”

  She had completely forgotten about the coach, set to leave for Rhodopalais at the last stroke of midnight. Sure enough, the ‘Cinderella bell’ rang out, the one that legend stated was the exact clocktower that had chimed when she made her famous escape from this same palace. All at once, Ash knew what to do.

  She ran.

  She ran and ran, tripping out of the ballroom through the archways and into the passages, not even looking if Vanita or Derrick were behind her. She heard the crash of footsteps behind her in pursuit, but she dared not look back, or she would fall. One servant made to stop her at the grand staircase, but she barrelled into him, flying down the steps so fast that she tripped, tumbling, down the unforgiving white marble.

  Arms around her. Ash started, but it was only Derrick, hauling her up in quite an unladylike fashion. One shoe had come off and it was her mother’s, but Ash did not think, did not hesitate, but pulled the left shoe off quickly and dashed after Derrick barefoot across the shining floors and down the outer staircase.

  It took a second for Ash’s eyes to adjust to the gloom, looking at the seven or so carriages outside on the gravel. Which was theirs? Then, as she looked, a carriage right at the front of the line eerily came to life, wheels beginning to turn as it manoeuvred itself out onto the drive to begin its driverless journey. In horror, Ash watched it start moving by itself towards Rhodopalais.

  “Ash, run!”

  That snapped her out of it and she ran after Derrick, cursing as her feet pounded into the hard gravel, shooting pain all through her. Then, only then, did she wonder where Vanita was.

  “Ash!”

  As if on cue Vanita’s high voice rang out somewhere behind her and she turned to see her stepsister struggling in that ridiculously long blue dress, panting as she called after her, not used to running the way Ash and Derrick were.

  “Vanita come on! The coach won’t stop!”

  She could see her trying, but Vanita was just not that fast. Behind Vanita, she could see the white and red uniforms of the palace guard running after them. There was no way Vanita could outrun them and there was no way to stop their only ride home. To go back into the palace meant being proposed to and to say no meant death.

  Suddenly, Ash felt arms around her. She had been running looking backwards at Vanita and had not realised how close to the coach she was. Derrick took her by the waist in both hands and, still running, somehow threw her forwards. Ash’s outstretched arms hit the thankfully still quite slow-moving carriage in full force and the shock of impact jolted her bones and teeth, but she managed to hang on, pulling herself up the doorframe and inside.

  As soon as she was in, she leaned back out of the carriage window in time to see Derrick running back for Vanita, her arms outstretched to him. Ash almost cried with relief, seconds later, at the sight of a red-faced Derrick, Vanita slung like a sack of potatoes over his shoulder. She grabbed onto Vanita’s form and yelled at Derrick to let go, hauling her sister in through the window. Then Ash threw open the coach door and held out her arms to Derrick, pulling him in too. At last. The palace would not come after them now, at night, out in the open once they had left the gr
ounds. They were safe.

  There wasn’t that much space in the carriage for the three of them, Ash didn’t care. Each sat in silence for a good few minutes as the coach trundled on. It was Derrick who broke the silence.

  ‘Did what I think just happen, happen?”

  It was Vanita who answered, her face unreadable in the relative dark of the coach interior. “Ash was picked for the prince’s upcoming marriage. She ran before he could propose.”

  Ash did not answer, just folded in on herself and cried noisily all over her ballgown.

  “It’s alright Ash, really,” Vanita cooed. “It’s illegal to ask for a woman in marriage if she is not present.”

  “It’s probably also illegal to run out of the room when the king is making a speech,” Ash mumbled. “How did this all go so wrong? A week ago, we were only thinking of where our next meal was going to come from. What do I do?”

  “It’s going to be alright. We’ll just –”

  A menacing thud jolted the entire carriage. “What was that?” Ash hissed, though she already knew. There had been no sound, no shriek, no nothing. But in her heart she knew.

  The carriage thudded again, this time shuddering with the impact, a swift, loud scratching sound coming off of the roof for just one second before eerie silence descended again.

  As one, Ash and Derrick both opened the window drapes of the carriage. It was Derrick that cried out on his side.

  “Carrior! Owl carrior!”

  Ash and Vanita both leaned over to his window in time to see a ghostly white shape spread-eagled across the dark night sky, its pale feathers – thankfully – reflecting the moonlight so it could be seen. Then it circled around and swooped back down on them.