by Casey Lane
“You should probably return to Joseph, for I don’t suppose they’ll allow you into the court,” I said to the three geese following me. And yet they continued along, though I suspected it was more for the corn in my pockets than for my company. But the geese could do as they pleased. I had a prince and a kingdom to save.
As I approached the castle’s open gate, I wondered what exactly I would say to the king. I was not worried that he would be cruel or condescending, for Maxence’s father had been the one to discover me when I’d first arrived, cold and abandoned in the courtyard, forgotten as my betrayer waltzed off with my betrothed into the warm, dry castle. The king had even offered me the first position he could find so that I might have somewhere warm to stay and something to eat. But I hadn’t been able to get any words of explanation out on that first day. I hadn’t even been able to open my reticule and hand him the letters, for I hadn’t known then what the curse entailed. Not, of course, that I knew any better now. But at least I knew more about what I couldn’t say.
As I approached one of the inner gate guards I put on the best smile I could muster. “Excuse me.” He didn’t even spare me a glance, so I tried again. “Excuse me.” I placed my hand on his arm this time. Immediately, I was flat on my back in the mud. My head hurt where it had hit the ground, and my breath had abandoned my chest.
The guard leaned over me, his pike uncomfortably close to my stomach. “Do you know the punishment for assaulting a royal guard?”
I shrank deeper into the ground, praying that he not gore me on the spot.
“Now get out of here,” he flicked his pike, “before I turn you in to the bailiff!”
I scrambled to my feet so quickly that I nearly fell over again. As I began to hurry away, however, a little voice inside reminded me what was at stake. So I turned.
“I need to speak with the king,” I said, my voice still wavering more than I would have liked. I held my head high, though. I might be dressed as a goose girl, but by blood, I was a princess.
“You think the king would see you?” He shook his head as though I were mad. “Now get.”
I lingered for a moment longer, my resolve warring with my fear of the guard’s wrath. I considered pleading my case to the other guard, but by the expression he was sending me as well I had no hope with him either. Sighing, I turned to go. Defeat galled me, but I had no chance of winning a fight with the guards. I had been trained in embroidery, diplomacy, and languages, not combat. I would have to find another way.
Please, I prayed to the Maker as I headed back to the corner of my little stable, show me a way. Please don’t doom this kingdom to her. Don’t force her upon him.
By that time, the sun was low enough that Joseph should have brought the geese back to their hut. Surely he could have managed alone, as he’d done for years. A new wave of anxiety churned in my stomach as I wondered whether or not he might use my negligence against me, giving my betrayer further reason to get rid of me. To my surprise, however, when I arrived back at the little stall, the geese were not only penned, but also fed. And Joseph himself was nowhere to be found.
Satisfied, I fluffed my blanket on my pile of hay in the corner. Without any plan or even an idea as to how I might stop the wedding, I pulled out Maxence’s letter and turned it over to write on its back.
“I really have no need for you to be here, you know.”
I startled so that I nearly dropped the letter.
My betrayer stood in the doorway, her hands pressing against its frame as though she were holding the building up. Her eyes dropped to my lap. “I don’t even need to let you keep your pathetic letters from home. In fact,” she took a step forward, “I should probably burn those.”
“Whatever you did to me may prevent me from speaking the truth, but it is no fetter upon my hands.” The gate guards might have been too great a challenge, but I would tear the traitor’s hair out before I let her touch my letters. I clutched the letters to my chest, secretly relieved that she thought they were missives from home. I was also grateful the necklace was hidden safely in my reticule.
She watched me for a long moment before finally shrugging. “It matters not. I will be crown princess in two days.” She turned to go, but at the door, stopped once more and looked back at me. “Oh yes, before I forget. The reason I am here is because the prince asked me to send a servant to invite you to the midsummer’s eve flute performance out on the front lawn tomorrow night. All of the servants were invited last week, and he wished to ensure that you knew of your invitation as well.”
I kept careful control of my features, unwilling to let her see the joy and fear warring within me.
“Here are my instructions for you,” she said. “So that he knows you have been asked, you will attend the music performance, but you will not speak with him. If you see him approaching, I command that you disappear. Hide behind a cart, kiss a stranger, I don’t care. Just do not allow him to speak with you alone.” She leaned forward, her wispy hair falling in front of her face. Her voice grew hard, and her lip pulled up into a most unladylike snarl. “I don’t know what you managed to say to him back at the pond, but whatever it was must never be spoken of again. And if I see you disobeying me, I will make your life a living hell as soon as his ring is on my finger. I will make you wish you had never been born, and you will dream of the day when you had the chance to run.”
And with that, she was gone. I held my pose for a few moments longer until her footsteps had faded. When I finally allowed myself to breathe, my hands were shaking and my vision was blurry, though more from anger or fear, I couldn’t tell. Part of me wanted to tackle her and make her tell the world the truth, but the other part of me wanted to cower in the corner like a frightened puppy.
I sighed. Either way, I would need to be more careful before I pulled my treasures out in the future. But they were out now, and she knew about them, so I might as well finish what I had set out to do.
Dearest Max,
How fun it is to call you Max. It will take some getting used to, though. You may dislike it, but Maxence is a strong and commanding name, just the kind one would expect from a king of your stature. Still, I shall endeavor to please, and if Max is what you want, Max is what you shall get.
As for official events that involve dancing, you will probably be relieved to know that while I’m a fair enough dancer, I’ve frightened away many a poor courtier. And by poor, I mean they were subject to my silly jokes and attempts at wit. I’ve many friends and acquaintances who fit the description you gave me, those adorable flirts who can turn any head. If I ever turned heads, it was most likely because I had said or done something unbecoming of a princess. (There was one such event where in the spirit of the dance, I’d swung my arm out unnecessarily during an Ambrigade only to accidentally hit a manservant carrying a very hot tray of tea.)
If I was wishing for any man during those dances, it was most assuredly you, for I was praying that my betrothed might not find me the awkward, graceless princess most of my peers thought me to be. My mother was always kind about my mishaps, but there were many moments when even she sighed. Perhaps she was less concerned about my future than she might have been because I was already promised to you. I will say that I am better now that I am eighteen. I can conduct a decent conversation without trying to crack a joke, and I am less likely to break expensive ballroom decorations.
But does it really matter? For I am now living in a goose hut, and you are no longer mine to even exchange letters with. I must watch you every day as you touch and smile at her. And such is her curse that I cannot utter one wretched word. I can only imagine what it would feel like to run my hand through your dark hair or to trace the shape of your temple as you gently kiss me goodnight.
And I am afraid. I am afraid of being alone. I am afraid of dying without another soul to hear me cry. I never feared such endings before, but now that I am without the promise of growing old at your side, I am so very, very afraid.
How is it p
ossible to miss someone so deeply even though you’ve barely met?
Your Betrothed,
Evony
I woke up early the next morning to feed the geese, but I did not let them out of their pen. It was the day before the wedding, and Joseph would just have to tend to them himself. Instead, as the sky began to don its rosy peach glow, I hid in a nearby stall until Joseph had given up his search for me and had taken the geese out to pasture. Once he was gone, I set off in search of Maxence. My betrayer’s threat had made it only more critical that I speak with him alone.
Upon arriving at the castle I was stopped, however, by the distasteful look a gardener shot at me through his flowering bushes. Looking down, I realized that I was a mess. Though I had dusted most of the mud off yesterday, my dress was still stained, far too dirty to be allowed near the prince.
A new dress was out of the question, as it would take too much time and would cost far more than I currently owned. I had a single coin hidden in my reticule, but when I approached the woman who sold old dresses she’d patched up, I couldn’t even afford one of them.
Without thinking, my hand slipped down to my reticule again, searching inside for something else of worth. And then I touched the necklace. Its familiar shape soothed me as I took it loosely in my hands, the jewel’s smooth surface reminding me of my mother.
“I’ll trade ye for that.” The woman was eyeing my necklace with large eyes, her hand already outstretched. My breath hitched as I considered it. Her hand continued to come closer, but as it did, my spirits sank. I couldn’t do it. With a heavy heart I shook my head, took back my coin, and walked slowly to the edge of the plaza. “Luck with finding a husband in rags like those!” she called after me. But I didn’t even turn. I didn’t need a husband. I needed my words.
That thought bolstered me a bit as I realized that a bath would do almost as well as a new dress. I could at least try to get the mud out of my clothes, and surely off my hair and skin. After asking a milkmaid where I might find such a private place, I hiked up a hill to a little spring that was mostly hidden by a thicket of trees. Why hadn’t I come here before? I’d never gone without a bath for more than two days back at home.
Once I was washed and the sun had mostly dried my dress, I went back to the boulder on which I’d laid my reticule and boots. As I knelt to fasten my boots, my reticule fell off, and out of it fell my necklace. The heart-shaped ruby and its surrounding little white diamonds glinted merrily in the sunlight. Suddenly I felt quite rebellious. This necklace was mine, as was my right to speak with my betrothed. I might not have a beautiful gown or a tiara, but I would be clean. And I would sparkle.
Undesirous of another encounter with the gate guards, I stood in a corner of the market until I saw Maxence make his way out of the castle. Once out, he paused to speak with several of the stall owners. It took a few tries, but I moved to stand behind each prospective stall until he caught my eye. Then I motioned for him to join me. He looked surprised, but did as I asked. And for once, my betrayer was not by his side. She was probably in one of the towers trying on my wedding gown.
“Etta.” His smile was polite, but his eyes were uneasy as he approached me. “This is unusual-”
“What did you mean the other day?” I interrupted him. If his eyes had been wary before, they were wide with shock now. But I went on. “You came to where I tend the geese. Surely you have business more pressing elsewhere than the goose girl’s domain.” I stepped closer. “And why give me that look now, as though you are trying to solve a mystery?”
His eyes shifted down, and he stood still for a long time, staring at the ground. So long, in fact, that I thought he might leave. For had my questions come from any normal goose girl, they certainly would have been inappropriate.
“I don’t know,” he finally said, furrowing his dark brows. “From the first time I spoke with you, you felt familiar . . .” He lifted his blue eyes up once again to meet mine. “Have we met?” he whispered. Then he laughed humorlessly and shook his head a little. “I know it sounds like insanity, but that is all I can imagine.”
I wanted to throw my arms around him, but the curse would allow no such thing. Instead, all I could do was stare and pray. As I reached up to touch my necklace, however, he noticed it as well. His eyes widened.
“Where did you get that?”
“It was my mother’s.”
“Servants don’t have . . .” he began, but then his voice faltered. “I’m sorry.” He looked up at the nearest tower. “This is wrong of me. I need to be going.” He turned to walk away.
I called out the only thing I could think of. “Will they be playing the Pilovare tonight?”
He stopped and slowly turned.
“It’s your favorite,” I added softly.
“Come with me.” He turned and stalked out of the marketplace to a grove of trees just outside the castle walls. I followed, my heart trying to beat out of my chest. Once we were safely sheltered by the trees, he turned to me, his blue eyes piercing mine like cold, blue daggers, and his face an alarming shade of white under his sun-kissed skin. “Where did you hear that?”
As I struggled to find an answer, however, the sound of galloping hoof beats turned both our heads. A blur of brown and blue streaked toward us. As he slowed slightly, I made out Joseph sitting astride a big brown horse. Bursting into the thicket, he slowed the horse enough to scoop me up onto her back then darted off toward the stables once more.
“Let me go!” I shrieked, pounding at the meaty fist that held me tight against his chest.
“If ya fight me, the horse’ll spook.”
As much as I hated to admit it, my experience with horses told me he was right. “How dare you take me from him?” I shouted into the wind instead.
“T’princess said I could.” His easy tone was the same one he used every day when he asked me to marry him. “Fact, you’n me be getting married in t’next kingdom over. We’ll have some coin and meal waiting for us at t’stables. Then we’ll ride till we find a new place. Princess Evony’s givin’ me ’nough money for a long time. Should hold us over till I find work.”
“What if I’m not willing?” I snapped.
“Ask ‘er yourself.”
We slowed as we approached the animal pens. I could hear the shouts of men in the distance. Had Maxence decided to come after me? If so, he had better hurry.
“You’re late.” My betrayer rounded the corner of the goose stall, glaring at Joseph. “They’ll be here any moment.” Then to me, she said, “I’ll take this.” With one swipe, she yanked my reticule off of my hip and pulled out the letters.
“No!” I screamed, but it was too late.
She squinted at the parchments. “Can you read?” she asked Joseph. He shook his head, so she squinted at them again. Amidst my angst, I was surprised. I knew she’d been raised a commoner, but as she’d worked in Anfange Castle, I’d assumed that even she knew how to read. My mother preferred her servants to be literate so that they might conduct quick and efficient business. “Well,” my betrayer said, “I have no need of these then.” She marched over to a lit torch on the stable wall and took it down. Then she touched the torch to the corner of my letters and tossed them outside into the wind.
I dove for the pile as the paper began to catch and scatter, but Joseph caught me easily and pinned my arms behind my back. “Don’t worry,” he said in an irritatingly soothing voice as I wailed, “we’re off t’something new now.”
But I mourned as I watched my last hopes burst into flames, each letter catching the blaze, turning orange and then black before crumbling. I mourned the joyous wedding that should have been mine on the morrow. I mourned that Maxence and I should have given life to children and watched them grow. I mourned the kisses and embraces that I should have shared with the husband I had loved since girlhood. We should have ruled together and made the world a better place. He should have been my lover and companion. But just as the letters were giving way to smoke and ash, one
by one, so did the dreams I had once taken for granted.
If it cannot be me, I prayed as hot tears slid down my cheeks, please give him someone who will love him as he deserves. Not someone who will use him like she will.
By this time, most of the letters were gone, and my betrayer was urging Joseph to get me back on the horse and go. One lone letter, however, was blown out of the pile just before it caught. I watched as the wind threw it up then down and then caught it against a pair of shiny black boots. The three of us watched as Maxence picked up the letter and began to read.
“I know this hand,” he said in a quiet voice before looking at each of us in turn. His gaze lingered on me. “Who are you, truly?” He took a step closer, his crystalline eyes probing mine.
“She’s no one-” my betrayer ran forward to take his arm, but he held his hand up, a look of disgust upon his face.
“Put this fire out,” he said to one of the guards who had followed him, “and take them to the throne room. Call my father to meet me there. I will soon return.”
Fear and joy took turns rippling through me as I was dragged across the market, past the two stiff guards, and through the doors of the castle. I still had no way to prove my identity. Without friend or family nearby, all of my guards murdered, and no voice to claim my lineage, I would need a miracle.
The king waited for us in the throne room. His brown eyes were grave, and he glowered at the three of us as we were dragged before him and forced onto our knees. His curly black hair was beginning to whiten, but there was a severity in his face that made my heart tremble. Despite all that was more important, such as saving my own life and sparing my beloved and his kingdom from a monster queen, I was ashamed of my ragged appearance before the king I had hoped to call Father.
Two sets of steps echoed through the throne room as the great doors opened and closed behind me with a bang. I wanted to turn and see but didn’t dare for fear of the guards. One set of footsteps was confident and quick, but the second was slow and moved with a shuffle.