She heard their footsteps moving away, and then the door to her chambers closing softly.
Only then did she look away from the window. She looked around her sitting room and her sleeping room beyond. Golden, draped with tapestries and beautiful things. She’d always thought it was for her because she was beautiful and loved beautiful things. In reality, it was guilt. Guilt and shame on the part of her parents. They had a plain, unattractive daughter who also possessed magical gifts, thus lowering her even further on the marriage market.
All this to get her married off—to find some prince who would tolerate her. He could have a lovely castle and lovely things and a lovely kingdom—if he’d accept a wife who was not lovely.
This life had been determined for her and with no input from her. Built on lies and guilt, she was expected to be grateful?
No. No longer would she dance to her family’s tune. She went to her dressing room and pulled out a satchel. She stopped when she saw the mirror. The long, full-length mirror that was a rarity even among royal houses. She looked at herself. She saw the lovely girl she’d always seen.
“NO!” She screamed. Spotting a candlestick on a shelf, she grabbed it and hit the mirror with it. Felt the satisfying smash as shards of glass exploded around her. Little stings told her that she’d probably been hit with some of them.
The candle had gone out when she hit the mirror, and she dropped the candlestick onto the floor, hearing a crunch as it landed on the glass shards.
She went to her wardrobe and pulled out her plainest gowns. No need for finery now. Shoving them into her satchel, she gathered a few more items. She stopped when she saw a particularly large shard of glass in front of her. Slowly, she picked it up. When she looked within, even the broken shard showed the false image of her. What powerful magic, what intense spells had been used in this grand deception. And for what? She sighed.
She wrapped the shard carefully in one of her gowns, and set it into her bag. She would keep this to always remind her of what she’d left. Putting the last few things into her satchel, she secured the latch and swung it onto her shoulder. A few tears slipped down her cheek as she did so, but she slashed at her face with her arm and sleeve. No tears, she thought. No tears anymore.
She left the dressing room and walked through her chambers, marveling at how much her parents had done to create the illusion of beauty on so many levels. The lies, she thought.
She reached the door that led to the rest of the castle. Opening it, she stepped out. She took one final look at her rooms, and quietly shut the door behind her.
How she’d made it out of the castle, she didn’t know. She hadn’t been particularly quiet, or stealthy. Nor had she been focused. Rather, she felt as though she drifted, like the smoke that rose through the chimney when the meats were being roasted. The nasty inner voice she’d developed since seeing the mirror asked if she really wanted to be gone or was she just setting herself up to be caught sneaking away so her parents could bring her back like the big ninny she was.
Catrin shushed her inner voice and continued towards the woods. She knew the fair folk were still camped there. She couldn’t tell herself exactly why, but she knew that if she went to Melasine, the woman would help her—hopefully take her in.
Because Melasine knew. She knew before this ever happened that Catrin had choices to make.
For once, Catrin wanted to be able to make the choice without the voices of her mother, father, and aunt in her ear. It was clear that if they got the idea they were doing the best for her, they’d go to any lengths. She needed to be away from that.
Melasine would help her.
Chapter Six
Catrin gritted her teeth. Nothing was ever easy.
Melasine had indeed taken her in, but Catrin wondered why, as she did every day since she’d begun to travel with the performers of the fair. During fairs, she kept behind the draperies of Melasine’s tent. She peeked out often, but she had never seen anyone she knew.
Was this worth it? She thought again on her reception the night she’d stolen away from the castle.
“Who goes there?” The man on the outskirts of the area of the camp called into the darkness. He held up a torch, seeking the source of the noise.
“I seek Melasine.” Catrin had decided that being direct was the only way she’d get what she wanted.
“It’s late, lady. Melasine is not to be disturbed.”
“You may tell her I am from Princess Catrin.” She kept her face hooded and stood waiting quietly.
The man stared at her as though he could see into the depths of her hood. She said nothing further, but gave him a nudge with her gift. After another long moment, he grunted.
“Wait here,” and he left her to head into the encampment. She watched as his torch shrank and then disappeared.
As he walked away, she heard the sounds of the night resuming. Everything was amplified, as when the heralds threw their voices to announce her into a room.
Only she’d never be announced in such a fashion again. Not with her decision to leave. She knew that this was the right decision. Never again would she be made a mockery of. Never again would she be at the whim of those who claimed to love her. Her gift would be hers, and hers alone. She could protect herself from the selfish behavior of those around her. And she would have her vengeance on them all.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the return of the man with the torch. A dark figure moved behind him, and when he finally reached the place where Catrin waited, the figure slid past the man and his torch to stand in front of her. The figure, like Catrin, was hooded.
For a moment, they stood facing one another, and then the other person pushed back her hood.
“What brings you here, my lady?” Melasine’s tone was calm, as was her expression.
No sense in hiding now. Catrin pulled her hood away from her face. “I seek your help. What you warned me of has come to pass.”
Interest flared in Melasine’s eyes. Her words, however, were disinterested. “What I warn of generally does, my lady. What has it to do with me?”
“You know of my aunt? Of the gift that runs in our family?”
Melasine nodded.
“I want you to teach me how to use it. With honesty.”
Melasine’s brows raised. “What other way is there to be, my lady?”
“There are other ways,” Catrin replied grimly. “Will you let me come with you?”
“What of your family, my lady? You are not just some girl from the village. You are a princess, and I do not wish to end my life over helping you.”
Catrin appreciated the blunt honesty. Start as you mean to go on It was one of her father’s favorite maxims, and she felt a pain as she thought of leaving her family. No, she thought. No more. You’re not welcome here. I will never let anyone hurt me like this again.
And I will have my revenge on those who have. The thought made her smile.
She looked up to see Melasine smiling, a calculating smile. “They will not seek me out.”
Melasine shrugged. “You do not know all that you think you do.”
“Then I will hide and keep from being seen. Let me travel with you, let me learn. I need to learn from someone without the bias of my family.”
Melasine didn’t answer, just watched her. The time seemed to stretch on while the woman studied her.
“Very well. Your name. You will need another. One that doesn’t connect others to you, or your family.”
“Annora.” Catrin didn’t even have to think. The name meant honor, and to her this was a quest. A quest to find her honor, the honor her parents had stripped from her. From this day forth she would live life honestly and in truth. In a lie no longer.
Melasine’s brows raised again but she didn’t remark upon the choice. She only nodded. “You must also be veiled. I cannot have anyone seeing you.”
“Why? Because I’m ugly?” Catrin flared.
“No, foolish girl. Because you’re Princess Catri
n. No one other than us may know that. Besides, your looks are not permanent.”
“What?” Catrin wasn’t sure she’d heard correctly.
“You lost your looks helping your mother, did you not?”
“How did you know?” Catrin whispered.
Melasine waved a disinterested hand. “It’s not hard to guess. If you travel with me, and help me with the apothecary side, you will regain that which is lost.”
“What do you mean?” She could barely speak.
“This is not permanent. You will work with me, helping others, and not using such a large draw on your gift. I think you will be returned to that which you lost.”
Catrin staggered. She could barely comprehend the thought. “Why didn’t Grizelle do this?”
“Who knows?” Melasine wasn’t interested. “It was foolish, but that’s not of any matter now. We shall right it. Even after that, however, you must remain veiled.
Catrin felt weak. “All right. I’ll wear one.”
“You’ll do as I say without question.” It wasn’t a request.
“Gladly.”
“Then come with me.” She led Catrin to her tent and showed her where she’d be sleeping. “Get some sleep, Annora. Tomorrow, the learning begins.”
Once Melasine left, she lay in her pallet unable to sleep. What would her mother say when she came in and found her gone? She shoved aside the flare of pain the thought of her mother brought. It didn’t matter what she’d say.
Nothing mattered anymore.
***
The next morning, Catrin rose and found a thick veil and wimple by her pallet. For the first time ever, she dressed herself, fumbling with her hair. There was no water to wash with, nothing to help her get ready.
When she emerged from her sleeping area, Melasine was sitting outside the small tent tending a fire.
“Come and eat, Annora. We must pack and move today.”
Catrin sat down, taking the bowl of porridge that Melasine offered. She ate, thinking, and forcing herself not to think. The enormity of what she had done hung over her like a cloud. She wasn’t ready to look at it.
Packing was fairly simple. Everything Melasine owned went into a small, rude cart pulled by a donkey. Catrin saw there was no room for her or Melasine in the cart. Which meant they were expected to walk.
With a touch, Melasine moved the donkey towards where the rest of the performers were lining up. They fell into line and then stepped onto the road.
The road that led away from the castle and out of Nandrenay.
As they walked, someone ahead began to sing. It was a lament, which Catrin felt was fitting. As the singer’s voice crested, she turned and looked behind her.
The castle gleamed in the morning sun, the pale stones making it look like a jewel rising above the countryside. Her home.
Her former home. Her anger flared again, the weakness gone. They had been able to help her, and they’d done nothing. Just lied to her, and set things in motion that ensured she’d be hurt. Her heart hardened. They deserved to lose her. They’d done nothing—Nothing!—out of love for her, only for their own concerns. Well, let them have an empty castle. They could live there together without the burden of her.
She turned her back on the castle and walked into the life of Annora.
Chapter Seven
Catrin felt strong. She knew she looked lovely. In spite of spending her entire life as an ugly duckling, she knew that the past year had brought her beauty to bloom. No longer was she someone who needed pity. No longer would her father need to entice a suitor.
In truth, she no longer wanted a suitor. She’d been crushed to discover that her father had removed her from the line of succession. However, after spending the past year with Melasine, she was happier with the way things had worked out. If that meant her parents were left with nothing, it was just. They had left her with nothing. So be it. They had brought this on themselves. Life now was better.
Except for this. Today was the last piece that needed to be put into place for her to move forward. While she no longer sought the crown that had been taken from her, because of the actions of her parents she was no longer the heir. They’d left her no choice. And now, she would make sure that Aland and Ceridwen felt the same pain. The pain of never being able to fulfill their obligation. She smiled. Unlike her, they had nothing to fall back on. She had her gift. They would not be so fortunate. Not any longer.
Melasine had attempted to caution her, but Catrin knew this was the way.
She smoothed her dress down and pulled the veil over her face. Worked lace, it was gauzy and would conceal her. Well, it would conceal her until she was ready to reveal herself. The thought of her plans made her smile.
Oh, how Aland would regret his words. How he would gnash his teeth when he thought of how he’d treated the girl he’d seen as second best. Not that he’d take any responsibility. It didn’t matter. He’d live with it, whether he acknowledged it or not. That was enough.
As she expected, Aland and Ceridwen had announced their betrothal as soon as they’d returned to Gallivas. Also as she’d expected, there had been gossip about why he hadn’t asked for Catrin. People assumed she’d disappeared out of grief, and some even had the temerity to say it was because she was heartbroken and ugly. She’d heard the people talk as they walked through the fair. She’d had to remember that she was not Catrin, but Annora, Melasine’s silent, veiled apprentice. It had been painful, but she was grateful. There was very little that people could say any more that could hurt her.
She’d spent the year learning self-control and testing the limits of her gift. Thus far, she’d not found any. Anything she wanted to do, she found a way. It was astounding, although she could see that it made Melasine nervous. She did all that Melasine asked, including taking over her herb dispensary and acting as the apothecary. She’d felt great joy when she was able to help the poor women and children of the villages they traveled through. It gave her a pang to think she’d never have children, but it was better this way. She didn’t want to pass this on to them—this gift that brought and took so much all at the same time.
She still loved her gift, but saw it through eyes more mature and with greater wisdom. Well, she hoped, anyway. It was both a blessing and a curse. She didn’t want to give that to a small child, like the little ones she saw daily. Like she had been. It was too much to bear.
On the plus side, her looks, as Melasine had predicted, had vastly improved. She knew without doubt that she was beautiful. She’d spent a year helping others, taking nothing for herself, and she felt better than she’d ever felt in her life. She would never go back to castle life again, even if her parents begged her.
Which they had not. She knew they’d sent out searchers for her, but it hadn’t seemed that they’d searched very hard. Soldiers had questioned the performing group, but no one dared to mention Melasine acquiring an apprentice the night the princess went missing. She wasn’t sure if people just hadn’t noticed, or they didn’t want to cross Melasine. After a year with them, she felt it was probably the latter.
She straightened her shoulders. The carriage came to a stop. The door opened, and the footman hurriedly offered her a hand. She took it, and exited slowly and regally. She looked neither left nor right, taking no apparent notice of her surroundings.
She could tell that her appearance attracted attention. Good. Let them look and wonder and whisper. All the better.
She entered the church, noting that the families of Aland and Ceridwen had indeed gone all out, making it seem a garden within. Blossoms adorned every pew, and there were vases of flowers at the end of each row near the walls. Catrin moved up the aisle towards the front, choosing to sit on the side that Aland’s family would sit. After all, she was here because of the groom. She smiled to herself. It was all she could do to keep her hands still, to not rub them in anticipation of what was about to come next. She’d practiced what she’d say. In front of a mirror, even. A regular mirror, one that he
ld no enchantment, and one that showed the Catrin of old was no longer. You probably thought I forgot, she thought. Thought I’d just disappeared, and oh, well. Poor, unfortunate thing. Well, let’s see who will be laughing now.
Around her, she could hear the other guests talking as they filed in. It was the wedding of the year, both bride and groom were so lovely, so fortunate. There was no mention of Aland or all that he had done and said to Catrin, the poor Princess of Nandrenay. No mention of his inherent cruelty. Very well. She’d open their eyes and let them see what sort of man they were celebrating.
Her breath caught. There, in one of the front rows, sat her parents and Grizelle. In all her imaginings, she hadn’t thought to see them. Not here. Interestingly, they sat across from where she sat, on the bride’s side. She was truly surprised to see them at the wedding. After all, they’d just had to announce that their daughter, Catrin, would no longer be heir to the throne, and a minor relation was being brought forward. She looked around. Where was he, the great simpleton? She remembered Garrick. Little Garrick, her mother had called him. Born before her, when his parents were hopeful that Garrick and Roslyn might not have an heir. A toady. She looked to her family again. They looked…sad.
Her heart hardened. Perhaps they were able to travel now that they no longer had the burden of hiding their ugly daughter. That they had a suitable, if dull and stupid, heir. She turned from them, but not before she saw Grizelle whip her head around to scan those behind her. She made her mind blank and calm, and thought about how lovely the chapel was. Grizelle watched the crowd for some time before turning back forward.
The wedding party entered, and Aland took his place up at the altar. He was anxious, excited. Catrin could see it on him. The priest intoned the words of the service, and Catrin had to stop herself from yawning. What was God in the face of nature and the natural order of things? Where was God, she thought, when her feelings had been crushed and she’d been left weeping because of the behavior of man? If God was supposed to guide us all, why did he allow for people to behave as Aland had?
One Night At The Ball: A Sisters of the Curse Novella Page 9