“Ry,” she said after she was done. “Ryanne. Where are my mama and papa? They said to stay here. They said they'd be back.”
A tiny piece of Leanansidhe's heart broke. It was a shocking feeling, a strange feeling. “I don't know, dear. I have not seen them. How old are you?”
“Five.”
The exact age Leanansidhe was when her father first took her to her lab. The same age she was when her innocence was broken and her life was changed forever.
She held out her hand to Ryanne as tears stung her eyes. “Well, Ryanne, it's nice to meet you. My name is Lealea. Why don't you come with me and we'll see if we can find them, okay?”
The little girl hesitated a moment, then another moment more, but she was alone and scared and Leanansidhe was offering her something she couldn't pass up. She slid her small hand into Leanansidhe's bigger one and stood up. “Okay, Lealea. I trust you,” she said and wiped her nose again. Leanansidhe looked down at the blond head as they walked out into the hall, still unsure what her exact plan of action was going to be.
*~*~*
FIFTEEN
*~*~*
Arthur stood in the dining room at the head of the table. Around him stood several of his knights and the generals of the North, South, and East. Norin, general of the West, was on patrol around the perimeter.
“Castle Eiri Greine is impenetrable. Trust me, I know. It must be a trick.”
Zela shot a glare across the table at Deklen. “It's not a trick, you imp. I've checked. The castle has fallen. The South is in the hands of Leanansidhe.” She slammed her hands down on the wood with force enough to topple a nearby chair. “She has my mother!“
“Calm down, Zela.” Arthur kept his voice steady and soft, but he felt her pain. Everyone did.
Percival stood close to her and he slipped his arm around her waist. She rested her head on his shoulder and forced herself to take several deep breaths.
“Regardless of what was once believed, we have the facts. Leanansidhe has the South, and she has Titania, along with countless number of servants. We don't know who has turned or who has been killed. The only information we have is what Kane was able to share with us, and that is very minimal.” Arthur tapped the map that covered half the table, indicating a bright yellow spot in the south. “The one thing we are absolutely certain of, though, is that we cannot let her keep it. We will get the castle back, and we will save the queen.”
“What if she's already dead?” Drakka crossed her arms beside her brother. They were both shiny rays of sunshine.
“She's not. We would know. Leanansidhe would not toss away a powerful asset such as Titania. And if the queen did die, Leanansidhe would not hide it. What better way to demoralize your enemies than to take down one of the strongest queens ever seen and parade the body in front of the others? No, Titania is still alive, and we'll see to it that she stays that way.”
The king rubbed a hand across his face and through his blond hair. “Let's break for a bit and then return to this to formulate a plan. We're all exhausted at this point and emotions are running high. We need clear heads and clear hearts when we figure this out.”
The others mumbled in agreement and filtered out of the room. As Zela and Percival left, a guard scooted in through the door behind them. “Your highness? Guinevere has been asking to meet with you. I know you insisted you not be bothered by her, but she is very persistent.”
Arthur's lips pinched together. “That she is.” He sighed and ran his hand through his hair again. “Very well. Bring her to the garden. I will meet you there in ten minutes.”
“Yes, your majesty.” The man bowed and walked out as Lancelot came in.
“How'd the meeting go?” Lancelot plopped himself in a chair and threw his feet up on the table. “Make any headway?”
Arthur shook his head. “No, not yet. But we will. We'll get Titania back one way or another.”
Lancelot nodded and stared at the map on the table.
“I have to speak with Guinevere.”
The dark-haired man dropped his feet to the floor and sat up. “Oh?”
“She will not stop bugging her guards and I can't avoid her forever. I might as well get it over with.”
“What are you going to talk about?”
Arthur shrugged. “I honestly don't know. She's a relic from another time, another life. I don't feel the same way I did about her. With Aiofe, it's so different. Better. Guinevere was...”
He trailed off and shot a glance at Lancelot. The knight was leaning forward with his ears perked up. Arthur narrowed his eyes at him a moment before standing up. “Anyway, I have to go. Stay out of trouble.”
The other man laughed. “Always.”
Arthur gave him a small smile and walked out the door. A niggling fear pulled at his heartstrings. “I can't do it again,” he whispered to himself. “Never again.”
He found the door to the gardens and walked out into the sunshine. He had been inside since Kane arrived the day before and he had to blink away the tears that formed from the sudden increase in light.
“Arthur!“ The shrill cry sent shivers down Arthur's spine, but he forced himself to turn toward the voice.
“Guinevere.” He nodded his head and gave her a half bow as a show of respect.
She broke free of the guard who held her arm and raced across the open space between them. She bowled into him, throwing her arms around his neck as she did when they were first wed and he would return home from battle. She had planted kisses on his cheeks and brow before he could get a grip on her arms and shove her away.
“Contain yourself,” he commanded with a glare so harsh it could melt stone.
Her mouth worked like a fish as she tried to come up with a response to the sudden coldness.
“You may leave us,” Arthur said to the guard as he nodded to the castle behind them. The guard bowed once and made a hasty retreat. When he was gone, Arthur turned to Guinevere. “What do you want?”
“Arthur, please. You must stop this. You act as though my only purpose for being here is to annoy you. I can promise you that is not the case.” She spun on her heel, sending her dress twirling. She walked over to the side of the path and settled onto a bench. “I have told you before and I will tell you again, I do not know my purpose here. I do not know the reason I have returned. But I'm here, and there is absolutely nothing I can do about it.”
Arthur pressed his lips together in a firm line, but the guilt washed over him.
“Don't you think I'd rather still be dead?” She fixed him with her gaze. “I lived my life. It wasn't always great, but it was good enough. We had our problems, but we made the best of it. We ruled benevolently, beautifully, and I died with great honor. I do not wish to live another life, but it would appear as if I don't have much of a choice.”
Arthur's resolve collapsed and he sighed. He walked over and sat down beside her. “I'm sorry I've been so harsh,” he said. “Your arrival came at a very bad time. I have a lot to deal with and I cannot believe you weren't brought back for a reason.”
She shrugged and looked at him. “Maybe I was brought back for a reason, but I don't know what that is. And the only thing I care to do is make things right between us.”
“Guin--“
“No, please. Let me speak.” She reached out and grabbed his hand in hers. “I have been a terrible wife, Arthur. A terrible queen. In our last life, I betrayed you horribly. I had secret trysts with your best friend and I ruined your relationship with him. I destroyed two of the men I loved the most, you and Lancelot. I should never have come between you, and for that, I am truly sorry. You were a wonderful king, and I made your life miserable. You deserved so much better, so much more than what I gave you.”
Her hand went up to his face and she cupped his cheek. “You are a good man, Arthur Pendragon. You are a good king. The four queens brought you back because they knew you were the one person who could unite them and save them. I know you will, too. You were the greatest
king the world had ever known, and you will be great once more.”
Arthur's skin wanted to recoil under her touch, but he forced himself to remain still. A knot formed in the pit of his stomach. “Thank you, Guinevere,” he said. He took the momentary silence as an opportunity to rise. He paced a few steps away and looked into a nearby fountain. “Sometimes I wonder if I am that man, that king they need.”
Her hands were on his shoulders before he could blink. “Of course you are. You are the great King Arthur, the one they called the Once and Future King. You will lead again. You will be great once more. The prophecy says so.”
Arthur stiffened under her touch, but he did not pull away again. “You're so tense,” she said and her fingers began kneading the knots in his shoulders. “You need to relax.”
“I don't have time to relax,” he replied, but he began to sag into her touch despite his protest.
“Let me help you, then.” Her voice was soft in his ear and her fingers trailed up over his shoulder to his neck. Slowly he spun toward her. His lips began to tingle. His heart began to beat faster. “Forget Aiofe, Arthur. Forget her and be with me. Just me. We can rule again, together once more.”
“Aiofe,” he whispered, and the tingling disappeared as fast as it had come. He pulled away from Guinevere and stepped back just as the door to the castle opened.
A red head appeared and his heart beat even harder. “Aiofe,” he called and walked quickly away from Guinevere. He held out his hand and helped her down the stairs.
The young woman looked at both of them with narrowed eyes. “I need to talk to you,” she said to Arthur. “Alone.”
“Oh, don't be silly,” Guinevere said as she walked up to them. She put her hand on Arthur's arm. “Who am I going to tell your secrets to?”
“Everyone?” Aiofe's nose curled at the sight of Guin's hand on Arthur's arm. “Please, Arthur. It's important.”
“What is it about?” Arthur tried to focus on Aiofe, but his head was fuzzy. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear his thoughts.
Aiofe raised her head. “Guinevere and Lancelot.”
A jolt ran through Arthur's arm. He jerked away from Guinevere and shook his head. “Oh? Let's go over here.” He held his arm out to Aiofe and the girl took it.
“Stop trying to stir up trouble, Aiofe,” Guinevere said as they started to walk away. “I was just telling Arthur how sorry I am for that whole thing. It was a terrible mistake.”
“I'm sure. Arthur?” Aiofe nodded toward the stairs and Arthur led them further away from Guinevere, but the blond woman would not give up.
“Really, Arthur, this is ridiculous. You hardly know her and you're going to choose her over me?”
“I...” Arthur's head was swimming. He longed to sit down.
“Arthur? Are you all right?” Aiofe's freckled face appeared in front of him. She brushed his cheek and his head cleared a little. “Maybe you should rest. You're looking awfully pale.”
“I'm all right. I just need to sit down.”
“You know, Arthur,” Guinevere said from behind him. “I heard she was part faery. Faeries have magic. How do you know she's not seducing you with her magic? Maybe she's messing with your mind.”
He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Aiofe's hand was still on his arm and he focused on the light weight there, drawing strength from it. He inhaled and exhaled once more and then opened his eyes again. His vision was clear, as was the beautiful face in front of him. He smiled at Aiofe and reached up to touch her cheek.
“Your highness?” The guard who was watching Guinevere stood at the door. “Do you want me to take her back? They're ready to start again.”
Arthur nodded quickly. “Yes, please do.” He slipped his fingers around the back of Aiofe's neck and pulled her close enough so he could press his lips to her forehead. “We'll talk soon, okay? I promise.”
Her lips pursed, but she nodded. “Okay.”
He turned and bowed his head very lightly to Guinevere. “Guinevere,” he said and then he turned and raced up the stairs as fast as his legs would carry him.
*~*~*
SIXTEEN
*~*~*
“Beware the woods in the night of day/traipse and traps and flee.” Lilia twirled as she sang, her bright blue skirts swirling about her knees. She had been a servant for Aiofe for barely a week, but it was the best week she had had in what little of her life she could remember. Born into a world of servitude before she was bound to the castle, she had never known what it meant to be free, so freedom to her was a good master and pretty clothes. Aiofe made sure she had both.
Lilia paused at the window and leaned against the ledge. Below her in the training yard, several of the knights practiced their swordplay. Her gaze flitted over them quickly, though, instead searching for the man she had often seen alone. She found him near one of the corners, practicing with his bow. She cupped her chin in her hand and watched with awe as Tristan placed three arrows on his bow at the same time and sent them soaring into three separate targets.
“Oh!“ Lilia pushed herself up from the ledge and clapped her hands together in excitement before she knew what she was doing. Tristan's head tilted to the side and he turned just enough to look up at her. She slapped her hands over her mouth and backed away from the window as quick as her little feet would take her. Fear froze her for the briefest of moments until she broke out into a fit of giggles. She recovered herself and continued cleaning.
“All the sprites that come out to play/are the smallest danger you see.” Her feather duster whirled about in her fingers, kicking up small clouds of dust and chasing away the tiny, nearly invisible faeries that had made a home on the mantle in the years of disuse. They jabbered and twittered and swore at her in their faery tongue.
“Be off with you,” she chided. “Your home is in the woods, you know that. Shoo, and do not return.”
As they scampered away, she spun as fast as her toes could handle, pretending a young suitor was twirling her about the dance floor.
“You're very talented, my dear.”
Lilia froze mid-spin and collided with one of the big chairs near the fireplace. She sent it sprawling and went down with it. As she scrambled to her feet, she tried to bow at the same time. “Miss Guinevere, I am so very sorry. I did not see you there.”
She bowed repeatedly, even as she stooped to pick up the heavy chair. She struggled with it, but managed to right it once more. Then she straightened herself and brushed her hands over her skirt before curtseying. “Miss Guinevere,” she said again. “How may I be of assistance?”
The blond woman smiled and walked toward Lilia. The young girl's heart thudded in her chest and fingers of fear crawled up the back of her neck, but she remained still. Guinevere reached her and brushed her cheek. “What is your name, darling? I know I've asked before, but I've forgotten.”
Lilia's brow puckered. “No, Miss Guinevere. I do not think we have met. My name is Lilia. I am Lady Aiofe's handmaiden.”
Guinevere's grin grew. “Oh, I know, darling. In fact, I need your help with something.” Her fingers brushed down to Lilia's arm. “Do you think you could help me?”
Lilia blinked rapidly, trying to clear the cloud that had come over her. “Of course, miss. Anything you need.” Her lips felt heavy as she spoke and her thoughts became jumbled.
“Perfect. The first thing I need is for you to call me Lady Guinevere from now on. Can you do that?”
“Of course, my lady. Lady Guinevere.”
“And Aiofe, Aiofe is the red-headed witch that we do not like. You will refer to her as Miss from now on.”
“Yes, my lady. Miss Aiofe, the red-headed witch.”
“Wonderful. Now, tell me everything you know about her.”
Lilia's tongue tripped over itself as she rushed to share everything she knew about Aiofe. While she babbled incessantly, Guinevere roamed the room, poking into corners, opening drawers, and rumpling the bed covers.
“Does she have any
weaknesses?” Guinevere interrupted as Lilia was telling her about the night King Arthur and Aiofe had almost spent together.
“No, my lady. None.”
Guinevere's nose curled and Lilia thought frantically for something, anything to share with Guinevere to please her. “She does have a locket. A special locket, given to her family by Queen Titania.”
“Oh? And what's so special about it?”
“It protects her, my lady. From magic and the like. Not completely, of course. Or else she would not have had any trouble with the banewolf. But it aids in her protection and makes it much harder for her to be affected by magic. And it helps her heal faster and--“
Guinevere held up her hand and Lilia clamped her lips together.
“Lilia, will you do me a favor?”
The young handmaiden's head nodded so quickly her neck hurt. “Yes, my lady. Anything.”
“I want you to break that locket.”
“It is iron, my lady. I cannot touch it.”
Guinevere walked over to Lilia and cupped the girl's cheek in her hand. The fuzziness had started to fade, but now it returned full force. “Find a way. I want it broken.”
“Yes, my lady. Anything you wish.”
“Good. Do it tonight. Do whatever it takes.”
Lilia nodded. “Of course, my lady.”
Guinevere smiled and kissed the girl on the forehead. “Good girl.” Then she turned and walked out.
When Guinevere was gone, Lilia stood in front of the fireplace for several minutes. Her head swam and she felt confused and lost. But she had a purpose, a goal, and she would complete it no matter what. She did not want to displease Guinevere.
Later that evening when Aiofe came in for her bath, Lilia had formed a planned. She helped her lady undress and climb into the tub. When Aiofe removed the locket and placed it on table beside the bath, Lilia set her plan in motion. She moved to grab the soap and bumped the table hard enough to send it sprawling. As she scrambled to pick the items that had spilled up, she let her heel land on the locket and grind in a circle.
Queen of Hearts (The Risen King) Page 9