Bound by Birthright

by Janeal Falor

  Father steps in behind her, raking his dark-eyed gaze across the room until he finds me. His shoulders fall at the sight of me. He must be even more relieved to see me than I am him. His silver hair has been cut neat and trim since last time I saw him, leaving the tips of his ear visible. Though his face wouldn’t be called handsome by elf standards, his thick lips and round nose give him a friendly appeal. One that’s needed more than ever in this moment.

  Octavian behind him drips with jewelry, and his plump body is draped with a rich green material. His right thumb idly twists a gold ring on his middle finger.

  Looking more out of place among the royals, Reginald’s tall, lanky frame is clothed in black. His olive skin is clear except for a thin white line above his right eyebrow. His dark hair is slicked back into a long ponytail instead of the usual unbound oily locks left to hang around his shoulders. He stumbles a little but recovers before anyone except me seems to notice.

  Mother and Father take two chairs directly across from me, but Lord Octavian sits on the couch closer to me. Reginald stands behind Mother and Father, staring straight at me with a curious expression on his face.

  Stewart shuts the door but stays in the room. No doubt there are guards stationed at each of the doors in the hallway. The process is a familiar one until my mother glances at me and shrieks.

  “What has happened to your beautiful face?” She grimaces in horror.

  Confused, I lift my hand to my cheek, wondering if I did something different to it. I didn’t that I remember. I was too tired to bother with looking in the mirror after changing my face, but it feels as it should.

  “Wha—what do you mean, Mother?”

  “It’s hideous.”

  Chapter

  Nineteen

  My heart sinks, the sting of tears threatening. I take slow, deep breaths, trying to keep my response fitting a royal. Blinking rapidly, I’m able to push off the wild flow of emotion.

  “Your Majesty, if you will permit me.” Constance’s tone doesn’t leave it as a question. “Your daughter has shown a great display of magical powers. Not only that, but she has been wise in how she has chosen to use them. Did you know she was able to disguise herself as a human to evade capture by pirates?

  Mother’s horrified face melts into a wide-eyed and drop-jawed expression.

  As Constance continues, her voice lowers. “After seeing the changes that have come over her face and hair, I would say we have found the consequences of the spell.”

  “Humph.” Mother’s upset word is tinged with anger, but still sound polished. “It was not worth it, then. That ugly thing does not look like my daughter.”

  Constance stands to her full height. “Well, she is, and a fine daughter at that.”

  “You have to admit it is an unusual change,” Reginald interjects.

  I shift my face down, trying to avoid the scrutiny of so many people. Why didn’t anyone tell me? Why didn’t I look in a mirror? Why did I believe that it could all be better in the morning?

  “Unusual?” Mother points at me. “That is not unusual. It is unnatural.”

  “Forgive me, Your Highness,” Stewart says. “I wish to convey to you how real the danger was. You daughter’s ingenuity saved her the day the pirates came. Then, when we were almost overcome by pirates at sea, she cast a wind spell that pushed them away from us. She handled the threat of being kidnapped well, even when it was directed at her human form. Then she endured a taxing escape—something beyond her normal capability. Throughout it all, she never once complained, even when it became too much. When we were on our way, a pirate again tried to kidnap her. Though she was saved by the human, Robert, she sustained injuries. Not once did she complain about them.”

  Mother stops him with a wave of her hand. “Arabella should have known better. She shouldn’t have needed help from…Robert? Who even is this Robert you speak of? Why was a human with you?”

  “He’s one of the men from the merchant ship that stopped on our island,” Constance says. “If it wasn’t for them, we wouldn’t have been able to leave and come home. After the pirate ship attacked, Robert volunteered to escort us. He chose to help us of his own free will. Without his good nature, your daughter would be lost to us all.”

  “A human merchant is responsible for her being here?” Mother’s perfectly arched eyebrows draw together in thought. I can’t imagine what it is she could be thinking.

  Reginald appears lost in thought as he speaks. “We should have a word with these humans.”

  “The humans are not important,” Mother says. “It’s not good enough to only save her life. Something should have been done to preserve her beauty.”

  Father cuts in. “Pernilla, she is still our daughter. This is nonsense. Forget it at once so we can move on to more important topics.”

  Never have I heard my father speak to my mother in such a tone before. Something about it has me sitting up straighter, though I still feel like cowering.

  Mother shifts her angry gaze to him but says nothing further. Stewart and Constance move back to their posts, their gazes focused on me, filled with love and concern. I concentrate on my father, not wanting to deal with their pity.

  His words would help stem the pain, but he said them in such a casual manner. He hasn’t looked at me after the first initial glance.

  Mother bursts into hysterical tears. I know my mother cares about beauty, but I didn’t know to what lengths. I cringe.

  Father pulls out a handkerchief from his pocket, hands it to her, and assesses her a minute before returning his attention to me. “I must say I’m rather worried.” He stands and walks the room aimlessly.

  Reginald speaks from his place behind the Queen. “We sent our best guard, as we planned.”

  “It went badly, though.” Father paces faster. “After a day, we were surprised when a single guard returned. You see, when they weren’t far out, an explosion destroyed the boat and killed all the guards save this one soul, though he was badly injured.”

  What ill news. I’m grateful to be sitting down, for there’s no way my legs could hold me. Any thoughts of self-pity flee in that instance. All of those elves died. Some of them I even knew. My heart shatters. Who could have done such a thing?

  I slump back in the chair, a stabbing pain through my chest. “How could this have happened?” I ask in a frightened whisper.

  “We don’t know for sure, my lady,” Octavian replies. “We are speculating someone killed those elves so they couldn’t protect you.”

  Father goes to stand by her, on the opposite side of Reginald, and places a hand on her shoulder. As soon as he touches her, she quiets her sobs, and dabs the handkerchief at her eyes.

  Father speaks again. “The council has been trying to send you more help, but there isn’t much left, and it was always delayed by some means. We have reason to believe someone within the castle is working against us.”

  “We’ve been so worried,” Mother says, tears shining in her eyes but not clogging her voice. “We sent you out there, and you went, trusting us, but we couldn’t even send you any help.”

  A sharp pain twists in my chest, tearing me apart.

  Father takes on where Mother left off. “That is not all. Two days ago, we received a note, the contents of which were… well, disturbing, to say the least. Octavian, show Arabella the note.”

  Octavian stands and moves his bulk over to me. He kneels beside me and withdraws a folded parchment from somewhere within his cloak. He unfolds it and hands it to me.

  While I read, my pulse becomes erratic.

  King Sterling and Queen Pernilla,

  We have kidnapped your daughter, Princess Arabella. We will be willing to return her, once you call off the wedding to the human. Blood can’t be tainted by humans. You will follow our command to the letter as soon as you finish reading thi, if you ever wish to see your d
aughter alive again.

  I gasp for air after reading the note a second time. I put my hand to my throat, trying to contain my emotions. The pirates tried to kidnap me, though they were unsuccessful. Yet the note was still delivered.

  Octavian whispers, “They sent this note with a lock of your hair, my lady.”

  “A lock of my hair?” I place my hand on my head, feeling violated that someone managed to steal my hair without my knowing.

  “We believed it to be true.” Reginald comes to kneel beside Octavian. “We can only conclude the pirate must have had inside help who knew where you would be. They must have gotten rid of your guard, knowing you would be unprotected. They didn’t think you’d be a problem to capture. But you, my lady, very cleverly outwitted them.”

  He is the only person who has truly looked at me since I let go of my spell. I try to control the shiver that comes, but there’s no way to repress it. He leans in closer, inspecting my face.

  Octavian takes my hand, turning my attention to him when I’d much rather ignore them both. Better yet, knock them both on the side of the head with the hilt of my sword. Just because things are different doesn’t give them a right to invade my space.

  “Whoever is helping them in this castle,” Octavian says, “must have sent the note, thinking you were captured yet that was not the case.”

  “There is one other problem.” My father’s hesitant voice takes on an unusual tone. “Since we believed this note to be true, we dared not risk your life. As soon as we read and discussed the note, we sent an emissary to King and Queen Leland with a letter telling them we are withdrawing your betrothal. I fear it will lead to war, but we couldn’t risk your safety.”

  My whole body feels limp, almost like it’s someone else’s. Standing, I brush past the two councilors and walk over to the glowing fireplace. My mind is completely numb from the news I have always desired to hear. Now that I’ve heard it, I feel odd. Somehow after everything, this isn’t what I want to hear anymore. At least I don’t think it is?

  I brush any thought of the betrothal aside and try to focus on the more immediate problem. “Who can we trust? If they have help from the inside, there’s no one. I know those who went with me are trustworthy. None of them could have set this plot because they would have just handed me over. At least we can trust them.”

  My father walks over to me, his gaze still avoiding my face. “You let us worry about those things. For now, go get some rest. The whole country thinks you have been kidnapped, and we must announce that you have been found. Get some rest, and then we shall have a feast in celebration of your safe return.”

  Father, Octavian, Reginald, and Stewart all leave the room, but my mother remains. She sits, watching her hands twist the dampened handkerchief and saying nothing. Her eyes look like they might soon turn into another waterfall. Though she’s obviously troubled, she still manages to look elegant and graceful.

  “Arabella, I’m sorry for all we have put you through. No longer having your beauty is a terrible loss.” Mother continues to speak, sounding almost as if she’s talking to herself. “The satin brown hair was her best attribute, too. Now it’s a scraggly looking mess. And the loss of her beautiful blue eyes and creamy skin, both now marred. The leaf-like ears make me sick. I don’t even want to think of them anymore. It will all give me nightmares.”

  I clamp my jaw shut and hold in the torrent raging inside me. My eyes and nose sting. Taking a deep breath, I manage to say, “Then let us not think of it, mother. Did you wish to speak to me of something else?”

  Mother sniffs and glances at the fire. “Yes. You don’t want to think of what has happened anymore. I will think of some way to fix this for you.”

  Grinding my teeth, I just nod. I keep my tear filled eyes on my skirt while Mother continues.

  “I know that you have always resented your betrothal. Your father and I did what we thought was right at the time. Well, that is no longer, and Lord Octavian has asked for your hand. Your father and I have discussed it, and we feel this would be best, though I don’t know if he will take you after this new development.”

  Stunned, I can do nothing more than stare at mother with wide eyes. Finally, I move over to a chair and plop into it. This is what I wanted for so long. I am no longer required to marry the human prince, but that freedom is marred by Lord Octavian. A cold chill runs across me just thinking on it.

  “My dear Arabella, we are so glad to know you are safe.” Mother lifts her chin. “I’ll leave you alone now so you can rest.”

  With that said, she flees the room. Constance tries to come near me, but there’s too much pain to have her or anyone else around. I dismiss all my servants with a wave of my hand and meander into my room.

  I slip off the uncomfortable shoes and fall onto the bed. The soft feather bed eases my aching back but don’t give as much comfort as I thought.

  I cry into my pillow, unable to stem the flow of pain. All those elves lost their lives because of me. How can I live with that thought? Especially if my broken betrothal will create a war. For a long, long while, nothing else consumes my thoughts. The sobs eventually ebb. My muscles ease, though I still can’t relax.

  My dream has come true. The betrothal is gone, but look at the price that has already been paid, with more to come. I sigh and roll over, trying to get more comfortable. I work to stifle anymore crying. There’s been enough of that for now.

  If I had been allowed to choose my own husband, maybe things wouldn’t look quite as dire, but Octavian? What are my parents thinking? Don’t they know me better than that? I suppose not. My mother has always been superficial, but I didn’t realize she would loathe me just for the loss of my beauty.

  “I must look repulsive.” Fresh tears course through me when I realize I don’t dare look in a mirror.

  Chapter

  Twenty

  “Wake up, My Lady,” Jocelyn’s voice gently calls to me. “It’s time for you to get ready for the feast.”

  I don’t remember falling asleep. I just remember the whirlwind of emotions and thought streaming out of me, leaving me exhausted. The tears leave my eyelids swollen, making it even harder to open them. Blinking a few times, I give up and close them again. I roll over, pulling the covers over my pounding head.

  Emeline’s voice sounds through the layers of fabric. “The Queen wants you ready and said she wanted you to start now.”

  The sobs from last night threaten to overwhelm me again. I wish to bury my head in the mess of pillows instead of coming out to face the royal court. Taking several deep breaths, I roll out of bed.

  The beautiful gown I’d dressed in earlier is wrinkled beyond quick repair. Any magic used to get the wrinkles out would leave the fabric more faded and in even worse-looking shape than it already was. I’d been hoping I could have just worn it and not play dress up again. That is no longer an option, but Jocelyn has already assessed the situation.

  “I hope it’s all right, My Lady. I took the liberty of picking a dress for you. This one looked good, though I was unsure of what you’d want to wear tonight. If there’s something else you’d like better, I’d be happy to get it for you.”

  “It is perfect,” I tell her while Emeline holds up the simple, yet elegant blue dress up for me to see. Though in all truth, I have a hard time pretending to care which dress it is.

  Jocelyn runs into the bathroom to find some adornments to match for my hair. Emeline sets the dress down and moves to help her prepare. Both girls avoid looking directly at me. My hands twist in the folds of my dress. If they can’t look at me, how will the nobles react to me at the feast?

  Jocelyn returns, and both maids help me into the blue satin gown. When they finish, I take a deep breath, preparing to see myself for the first time in days. Though I know it won’t happen, I still hope to see my familiar elven form. With one last push, I look in the mirror.

 
The eyes staring back at me are brown around the irises and have the blue that used to dominate tinting the edges. My hair is pulled up in an intricate pattern with small white flowers weaved through instead of my usual crown. An attempt to hide the dirty blond no doubt. My old, dark brown hair would have made a better contrast.

  I brush aside the hair covering the tips of my ears. They are no longer sharply pointed like an elf’s, but neither are they rounded like a humans. Letting the hair back down, I run my hand over my lightly freckled cheek. I miss my creamy complexion, vain though it may be.

  Moving my hand back to my side, I take in the upturned nose and mouth that remained the same. Though I look neither like my elven or human form, I take comfort in the familiarity that remains. It isn’t so bad. Mother had exaggerated as usual. I turned away from the mirror.

  Emeline and Jocelyn applied make-up to my face, something they had never done before. The crushed herbs tickle my nose and leave my face heavy. With a few more minor adjustments left, Constance appears.

  “Jocelyn. Emeline. You both have done a fine job. You are both dismissed, free to do what you will this evening. I will finish here and help the Princess when she retires for the evening.”

  A smile grows on Jocelyn’s face. “Thank you, Constance. It’ll be nice having some time off. Where shall I start?” She mutters to herself as she leaves the room. Emeline gives a little wave then follows after with a grin on her face.

  After they leave the room, Constance makes a few minor adjustments, remaining quiet. The tension coming from her is palpable as she rearranges some hairpins. Shifting uneasily in my seat, I turn to face her.

  “Please tell me what’s bothering you.”

  “My dear child.” She stops her work and sits down in a chair close to me. “No matter what your mother says, you are still beautiful. Your mother places too much importance on physical things. Looks, clothes, and objects mean more to her than they should. She has ordered me to help you to come back to your original self. While I won’t stop you if that is what you wish, I can’t condone the action. Even if you try, who knows what the results would be. Magic can be a fickle thing, and I fear it could go worse, not better. I will support you in whatever you decide.”