“Cassa. You scared me, little one. How are you feeling?” he asked, his heart falling as he studied her thin form and pale skin.
“Much better, your majesty. Thank you for your care,” she replied.
“You are more than welcome.”
Cassandra looked at him closely as an inquisitive look spread across her face. “What were you thinking about, my lord?”
“Nothing, Cassa.”
Cassandra gazed out the window with him. “Was she beautiful?”
“Who?”
Cassandra paused. “Queen Anna.”
Thomas heaved a heavy sigh, his heart aching. “Yes, she was. The most beautiful woman I have ever seen. I loved her more than life. I would have given my own to keep her here. I miss her so much.”
Thomas glanced back to the young woman, seeing her still contemplating the night sky. She wrung her small hands together as she looked back at him.
“Please understand, this is only an apparition of your own memories,” Cassandra began. “She will not be able to talk to you or understand anything you say.”
“Cassandra, what are you talking about?”
Cassandra took a step toward him, placing her fingers against his temple and closing her eyes. Thomas shied away from her touch, disturbed by her actions. She pulled away from him and retreated into the shadows of the bookshelves.
Thomas glared at her. “What is the meaning…”
Thomas watched as Cassandra pressed her palms together chest high. She whispered a soft chant, an incantation inaudible to him.
“Cassandra, stop this…”
Thomas took a step toward her, but halted suddenly as a soft glow appeared before him. It slowly materialized into a human shape. His gaze widened as he stared into the blue eyes of his beloved wife, Anna.
He reached out hesitantly to touch her hair and felt the soft golden locks slip through his fingers. He touched her cheek, drawing her face to his and parting her lips to taste the sweetness inside. He brushed his thumb across her mouth as the kiss ended.
“Oh, my love,” he whispered, “I have missed you. I have so much to tell you. Matthew—he has grown. He is a man now. He is so handsome. You would be so proud of him.”
Thomas brushed her curls from her face. “I know you do not understand what I am saying. But I want you to know how much I love you and how I wish I would have been there.”
Kissing Anna soft and deep once more, he held her close. As they parted he murmured, “I will join you soon, my love.”
Reluctantly, Thomas let her go. Tears wove a path across his hardened cheeks as she dissipated into the night air. He looked up to Cassandra as she released her fingers and let them drop to her sides.
“Grandfather warned me never to use that spell. He told me it could be dangerous to those with a weak heart,” she confessed guiltily.
Thomas crossed the room and gathered her in his arms. “Thank you,” he sobbed softly. “Thank you. For what you have done for me, I will care for you. This I swear. Thank you so much.”
Cassandra wrapped her arms around her father figure's shoulders, confused by his sudden vow to her. “You are welcome,” she whispered as she hugged him tight, comforting him.
Chapter Four
Matthew settled himself in the giant overstuffed chair in the library. He grasped a poker and prodded at the blaze in the fireplace, urging it to glow brighter so he could immerse himself in his new gift. Their birthdays had just passed, leaving Matthew, Victor, and Cassandra all sixteen and a year away from adulthood.
Victor had gone to see his parents in Sebrone for his birthday. Four days later, Matthew spent a quiet day alone with his father to celebrate his. Finally, three days later on Cassandra's, a celebration was held for all three of them in the palace.
Matthew gently opened the forest green, leather-bound book that his father had given him. He devoured the words, losing himself in the tale. Sometime later, the door was slammed open and he shot up.
“There you are. I have been looking all over for you,” Cassandra glowed. She took his hand in both of hers. “Come on, I have something to show you.”
Matthew gathered the tome to himself and silently obeyed. He watched, mesmerized, as she frequently turned back to him in giggles while she led him outside into the dark night. They skipped down the palace steps to the garden as Victor came around the gate from the path that led to Sebrone.
“Where are you two going?” he asked.
“Come and find out,” Cassandra challenged as she clung to Matthew's hand. She dragged him through the garden to the gate. Then to the oak tree, with Victor following.
“Tonight, my grandfather wants me to perform an incantation. If I am successful, I am no longer an apprentice, and my name will be registered in the Annals of Magical Beings as a fully trained sorceress. First, I need material.” Her eyes searched both of them. Like a flash of lightning, she snatched Victor's dagger from his hip. A second later, she folded Matthew's new book to her breast.
“That is my best dagger, Cassie. What are you going to do?” Victor warned as alarm spread over Matthew.
Cassandra backed away from them laughing, then turned her gaze to the night sky. She closed her eyes and raised the objects still cradled in her hands toward the heavens. Carefully, she began to chant the words for the spell, words foreign and unrecognizable to Matthew.
Sparks, like fiery gold, fell down around her, leading a cascade of its brothers. Soon she was engulfed in a shower of light, her image barely discernible. After a few moments, the flashes subsided. She stood there alone, the objects gone.
“Where are our things?” Victor demanded.
Cassandra strode over to him, wrapping her hands around his arm. She pointed to the heavens. “Do you see that new star? The golden one that sparkles?”
“Yes.”
“That is your dagger. And…” She pulled her hands away from Victor and in turn wrapped them around Matthew. “That greenish colored one beside it? That is your book. By Grandfather's command, I have to leave them there for one night. Tomorrow night, I can perform the counter spell and retrieve them for you.”
Victor and Matthew stood staring upwards, awestruck. Cassandra watched the stunned look on their faces before dancing away from them laughing.
“I cannot believe this. I did it. I am so overjoyed. I think I will fly home. Yes, as a butterfly…with pink wings.” Cassandra planted herself to the ground and crossed her arms over her chest. A moment later, she looked up in alarm.
“My magic…” Cassandra’s voice died off suddenly as her feet sprang to life. She ran down the hill, through the gate, to the palace with Matthew and Victor close behind. They stopped short of the door as Malicar and Thomas stepped outside.
“Grandfather, Grandfather!” Cassandra cried. “My magic. It is gone.”
Malicar smiled gently at her. “Then you must have performed the first part of the incantation correctly. Your magic will return when you perform the counter spell.”
Cassandra stared down at the ground, fear showing on her face. Malicar continued, “You can stay here tonight since you cannot transform to fly home. I will see you in the morning.”
Cassandra did not look up as her grandfather kissed her forehead and disappeared into the garden. She watched her feet as Matthew wrapped his arm protectively around her and led her inside.
The next day, Cassandra sat in the window seat of the library chomping furiously at an apple in one hand. She gingerly turned pages of a large, ancient book with the other, which was wrapped tightly in a cloth. A torrent of rain pounded behind her, leaving barely enough of the afternoon light to read.
Matthew stood in the entryway watching her study. She was so engrossed in her work that she never noticed him there, his gaze memorizing her gentle face, her soft hair, her delicate body. She is so beautiful. So perfect… His heart was filled with such fascination of her.
He closed the door, causing her to jump.
“What are you do
ing?” he asked.
“I am studying the counter spell so I can retrieve your things. That is,” she looked out the window, “when the rain stops.”
She threw the core of her apple into the fire then crossed her arms. He smiled at her. “What happened to your hand?”
“Oh, I burned it this morning when I was helping Cook. I have lost my healing powers along with my magic.” She sighed, frustrated. “I hate this. I feel so helpless. So, so…”
“So much like me?” Matthew asked, laughing. Cassandra blushed, embarrassed, and then patted the spot next to her in the window. Matthew stared at the book in awe. “There is a spell in here for everything,” he whispered as he flipped through.
“Nearly.”
“Even love spells.” He stopped turning the pages and gently smoothed them.
“Yes. If you ever want my help to win the heart of a young maiden…” Cassandra looked into Matthew's eyes, hers twinkling with their own mischievous light.
“So, this is where your magic lies?” he asked, hearing his voice go weak.
“Some of it. Most of my magic lies within. That is why Grandfather has pushed so hard for me to find it. And that is the magic that is gone. Such as, I could read your mind just by doing this.” She gently pressed her fingers against his temple. His heart thundered as he watched her eyelids flutter shut.
After a moment, she opened them again. “But I cannot.” She gazed into his eyes, her fingers still pressed to his face. She suddenly brought them to life, brushing stray locks of hair from his brow.
They stared into each other's eyes, forgetting the rain, forgetting the large book of magic. Matthew's mind raced as he protectively took her wounded hand in his. He touched her chin with his other hand as his gaze drank in her skin, her mouth. He leaned towards her slowly, feeling her body draw towards him as his eyelids fell closed and his lips parted.
“Your majesty, my lady. Lunch is ready,” Cook announced as she peeked in from the door. They both looked at her dazed.
“Yes, Cook,” Cassandra squeaked. Slowly, they rose and followed her to the dining hall.
That night, Matthew laid in his bed, watching the flames in the fireplace consume the logs fueling its rage. He stretched his legs, feeling the linen sheets slide against his skin. He listened intently to the rain pound on the stone tiles of the roof. She flooded his thoughts, invaded his senses. She had frightened me as a child…or had she? Had she captured my heart then, as she did now?
Is this fascination…or is it more?
He closed his eyes, seeing her image in his mind—surreal, beautiful. He opened them again and sighed. I am falling in love with Cassandra. Does she love me?
Over the next day, the rain continued. Matthew couldn’t banish his near kiss with Cassandra from his thoughts. He knocked on the wooden door of the north tower and waited quietly for a response. “Come in,” she sang.
Entering, Matthew found Cassandra propped on top of a cushion. The rain still roared angrily on the roof.
“Hello,” she cooed softly.
“Hello.” He stepped inside then folded his hands nervously. “You said that you could help me with a spell?”
“There is a young lady?”
“Maybe.” Matthew smiled shyly as he looked away.
“Of course I can. That is, when this rain stops, and I get my magic back.” She laughed, the music capturing his heart.
“I will let you know then if I need your help,” Matthew responded.
“All right.”
“Thanks.”
Cassandra beamed at him. “You are more than welcome.”
He waved slightly as he closed the door. Smiling to himself, he turned and descended the stairs.
Three days of drizzle and clouds kept Cassandra from her final spell. Finally, on the fourth day, the sun shone bright in the sky. Matthew laughed as the young sorceress could barely contain her excitement for the night to fall so she could reclaim her magic.
Once the sun had set and the sky grew black, he slowly followed Victor up the hill to the old oak tree, watching the stars pop out in the twilight sky. His gaze drifted ahead to Cassandra as she patiently waited for them under the tree. Her crème colored gown gave her an unearthly appearance under the full moon.
“Ready?” she asked nervously.
“Good luck, Cassa,” Matthew whispered.
“Confidence,” Victor cheered.
Cassandra nodded then turned her attention to the twinkling heavens. She closed her eyes, gently whispering the counter spell. As if by command, a shower of golden sparks sputtered then poured down upon her. They grew in intensity before subsiding, revealing the dagger and the book in her hands.
She spun on her heel and returned to the young men. Gingerly, she handed Victor the dagger, cupping the blade in her small, feminine hand. Victor took it from her as he quietly muttered, “Thanks.”
She turned to Matthew, her eyes locking with his. She stared affectionately into them, catching her breath. Nervously, she handed him his book. She did not feel it leave her fingertips as it fell to the ground. The spine bounced off the soft grass, the cover opening wide. A booming voice read the story aloud as the pages glittered gold.
Cassandra clamped a hand over her mouth as she whispered, “Oh, my!” Matthew and Victor took a step away from the tome, staring at her uneasily. She took a deep breath as she stepped forward and took the book captive in her hands, silencing the voice as she closed it.
Gazing into Matthew's awestruck eyes again, Cassandra laughed as she instinctively pressed her soft lips to its leather-bound cover. A rush filled her, overtaking her for several moments before she was able to open her eyes. She shook the mists from her mind, finding herself still clutching the book. She smiled and handed it to Matthew.
“Thank you,” he whispered, the awe in his eyes tempered with desire. He wrapped his arms around the small volume, pressing it to his heart.
“Well,” she sighed, “I should prove to Grandfather that I performed the counter spell. Good night.” Taking a few steps backward and crossing her arms over her chest, she transformed into a butterfly. She floated away, never noticing Matthew's love struck gaze…or Victor's jealous glares.
* * * *
Cassandra fidgeted silently at Malicar’s side as the general bowed low before the king. Both Thomas and her grandfather believed it wise that she observe Malicar’s duties. However, this was one meeting she was sure no man in the room wished her to witness. Thomas listened, deeply disturbed, to the general's report. Edgar stroked the stubble of his beard as he stood beside the king.
“Is there anything left of the outpost?” Thomas asked.
“No, your majesty. Gorgon has not been able to defeat the garrisons, so he is aiming for bigger prizes,” the general answered.
“The crown,” Thomas mused quietly.
“Yes, sir.”
Thomas sat silent for a few moments, then turned to his advisor, “Edgar, assemble the army. We are going to war.” He stood up slowly then sighed. “And prepare the boys. They should go with us.”
Thomas silently strode out of the room as he brooded over the situation. Cassandra’s heart fell as she watched him go.
Months of war passed. The army had gone out several times to face Gorgon's men and had returned to the palace beaten and broken. Almost overnight, she had seen the two she loved most in her life shed every last remnant of the innocence of boyhood and become men…hard and confused men. Cassandra paced the floor of the great entry room, never noticing the new falling snow.
Cassandra glanced up to see them both march across the balcony to the staircase. She stood stone still as they descended.
“Stay safe,” she choked out past her clenched throat.
Matthew touched her arm. “Lock yourself in your tower.”
“What?” Cassandra asked dumbfounded. “No, I need to help Cook…”
“You heard me.”
“Why?”
“So nothing happens to you
if Gorgon's men storm the palace.”
“But you would have to be…”
“Cassa,” Matthew sighed. “I have seen enough death over the last few months to lose faith. So please listen to me.”
Cassandra looked at him, unsure. “All right.”
“Good.” He brushed her cheek with a kiss before pushing open the oak entrance door into the winter morning.
Victor also gave her a peck before commanding, “Do as he says.”
“I will,” she answered weakly, following Victor out the door. She watched, her limbs shaking, as they rode out the palace gate.
* * * *
“No, no, no.” Tutor tossed his hands into the air in hopelessness. Shaking his head, Tutor looked at the prince, who clenched his hands to his hips in frustration.
“Matthew, your father wants you to attend the winter ball. All the lords and ladies of Savon will be here to celebrate. You have to learn to dance, and quickly, since it is tonight,” Tutor chided.
Matthew sighed as he sat down in a chair against the wall of the elaborately decorated Great Room. The tables lined with beautifully embroidered linen tablecloths were pressed against the wall. Beautiful sky blue silk streamers billowed from one wooden beam to another. Candles lined the walls to bring light to the evening’s events. Enormous barrels of wine were scattered about the room to lend aid to the night’s merriment.
Tutor eyed him carefully. “Let us try it again.”
Matthew glared at the older man as he stood, awkwardly wrapping his arm around Tutor's thin waist. Tutor was a tall lanky man, with dark eyes hidden behind thick spectacles. His hair was quickly graying. Matthew chuckled to himself. Obviously from having Victor, Cassandra and myself as students, no doubt. As the violinist began the first note, Matthew stepped on his foot.
Tutor sighed desperately. “What can I do to make this work?”
Matthew lost his fight to stifle a laugh. “Shrink.”
Queen of Savon Page 5