by Ward, Tracey
“Is your mother ill again today?” Elaine asked. “Is that why The Governor is here?”
“Yes,” I said curtly, looking away. I caught movement on the field. They were lining up for the first joust.
“I’m sorry. I hope she feels better soon.”
“Thank you. It’s strange being here without her.”
“Well,” Suzanne said happily, linking her arm with mine, her other with Elaine, “you’ll just have to make do with us, you poor thing. Now come on, they’re almost ready to go and I want to catch the Prince’s eye. Get him to carry my favor.”
“He’ll never do it,” Elaine cautioned her.
“She’s right,” I agreed. “He only ever cares about the woman.”
Suzanne frowned at me. “Have you two not noticed? We are women.”
“You’re right. Let me rephrase that. He only cares about groooown women.”
“Oh, you’re being lewd!” Elaine protested, scowling as she tried not to laugh.
“Isn’t she? And she wonders why The Governor frowns at her,” Suzanne said. “Besides, it’s not even true.”
“Oh no? Have you met the Prince?” I asked.
“Not as much as you have.”
“Don’t start.”
“You spend an awful lot of time with him. Alone.”
“No, I do not. And I said don’t start.”
“It’s too late, I’ve already begun. Maybe you should try to give him your favor, Annabel. I’ll bet you anything he would take it.’
“But she’s not groooown,” Elaine said with a giggle.
“Ah! Who is lewd now?” I asked.
Elaine shrugged. “You’re both terrible influences.”
“We’re the best thing that ever happened to you, little mouse,” Suzanne told her.
I wasn’t sure that was true, but she was certainly the best thing that ever happened to Suzanne and I. I would have done anything for Elaine. Suzanne as well. Their friendship had helped fill the void left by Roarke, even though I still felt the ghost of it. Like the thin white line on my palm. My mother had said it wouldn’t scar, but some things stay with you.
“Go on, Annabel Lee,” Elaine insisted, nodding toward the group of men in full armor preparing for the joust. Prince Frederick stood tall in the center. “Signal him, let him know you want him to fight for you.”
“But I don’t,” I protested. “Besides, I always give my favor to the Duke.”
Suzanne searched the arena. “Is he fighting today? I haven’t seen him.”
I searched as well but couldn’t find him either. I was shocked. He had never missed a joust, not once in my entire life.
“I guess he’s not,” I muttered. “Maybe he’ll be here tomorrow for the sword fights. It’s his specialty.”
“Oh no, you’ll have to find another champion,” Suzanne mused dramatically. “Who could you chose? Who, who, who?”
“I’m not calling out to him.”
“Do you have your handkerchief with you?”
“No,” I lied.
Elaine smiled at me knowingly. “Yes, you do. You have it because you were going to give it to the Duke.” She began to prod at my hands, pulling them open, then feeling around my dress. “Where is it?”
“Someplace I’d rather you did not go searching, thank you so much!” I giggled and shouted at her, swatting her hands away as she began to poke at my ribs, tickling me.
Suzanne took the chance while I was distracted to reach into my dress just at the top of my shoulder and pull out my frilly, silly useless handkerchief. It was green like my eyes. She waved it furiously toward the group of jousters waiting to begin.
“Prince Frederick!” she cried, her voice rising above the chorus of others calling out to him. Suzanne was not one easily ignored. His head turned immediately.
“Suzanne, no!” I hissed, no longer giggling. I grabbed Elaine’s hands hard, squeezing them tightly. She frowned at me.
Suzanne looked over her shoulder and grinned at my angry face.
“Don’t be so dramatic, he probably won’t even take it.”
But what if he does? I thought.
“Prince Frederick, will you carry this favor into competition?” Suzanne called out again, her low, throaty voice grabbing the attention of other men as well.
Prince Frederick shielded his eyes, searching until he found me. His brown hair looked almost amber under the sun, his tanned skin healthy and glowing. I watched with faltered breath as a grin formed on his too handsome face.
“Lady Suzanne, I wouldn’t dare carry your favor.” He began to stride purposefully toward us. The other women calling for his attention fell silent, their annoyance clear on their faces. Every eye of every member of the Court was watching us now, burning me over every inch of my skin with the heat of their stares. “I think Hannaford would have my head.”
“I do not ask for myself, milord. I ask for another. One too shy to speak for herself.”
He eyed the green handkerchief with interest. We spent hours together every week. He knew it was mine. He looked directly at me, his brown eyes digging into mine, challenging me.
“And who might the timid lamb be?”
Timid lamb?!
I squared my shoulders, releasing Elaine.
“The handkerchief is mine, Frederick,” I told him, my address shockingly informal. I curtsied but I did not look away. I did not bow.
His eyebrows lifted. “Really?”
“I don’t expect you to carry it.”
“Then why do you ask?”
“I don’t.”
He chuckled, the sound low and strange. “Are you playing hard to get, Annabel Lee?”
I shook my head. “I’m not playing at anything which is why I don’t ask.”
“Then I’m confused. Why am I here?”
“Because my friends are devils.”
He laughed loudly, the rest of the arena following suit in polite chuckles. I watched my father chuckle as well, his eyes sparking like flint.
Prince Frederick returned his gaze to me, his eyes burning. They toured my face then dipped to my body, taking in every inch of me in a quick, practiced move. We sat at the same table at dinner almost every night, I had known him for all of my life, yet he had never looked at me as he did now. This look took me in, took something from me and left me feeling bare.
“Lady Suzanne, I will take this favor.” He gently plucked my handkerchief from her willing hand. Then he said to me with a crooked, roguish smile, “Whether she likes it or not.”
My breathing refused to go even as I watched him walk away.
“I told you he’d take it,” Suzanne said smugly.
“You were right,” I replied weakly.
Moments later, Robert Hannaford, all dark hair and bright eyes, came to request Suzanne’s favor for the joust. Suzanne did in fact play hard to get, telling him she wasn’t sure she had even brought a handkerchief with her. He smiled at her lies, called her a heartless villain and eventually she handed over the small square of pink lace.
When the jousting was completed, Frederick stood the victor. After each match he rode slowly along the rim of the arena, waving to the crowd and smiling at the women. Each time he passed me he would remove the handkerchief from the interior of his armor then press it to his nose and mouth, grinning at me. I knew he smelled my perfume and soap on the bit of cloth. That he was breathing the scent that clung to my bare skin, a scent so close, so intimate that only I truly knew it. The very idea gave me goosebumps.
This is why they love you, I thought, glancing at the crowd of angry eyes glaring at me from above swishing fans. They created an undulating sea of hate and envy that wafted tangibly toward me. Feeding me.
I’d never felt more beautiful. More desirable. More powerful.
***
Frederick won the day, taking first place in both jousting and hand to hand combat. Had Duke Walburton been there it would have been another story entirely. I began to suspect I understoo
d his absence. He was the reigning champion of the competitions. He had not been beaten since he was of age to compete. Since he was eighteen.
Prince Frederick had just turned eighteen last winter.
Do you see? As did I. And I suspected others did as well, even Frederick himself because, pompous as he may have been, he was no fool.
That evening I withdrew alone to the refreshment tables, looking for solitude and something sweet. With the competitions for the day finished, everyone milled around chatting, flirting and gossiping. There were musicians nearby playing a soft, simple melody that floated around me on the air, ruffling my hair, tickling my skin. Reminding me of Frederick and his mouth on my lace. How did he do it? How did he burn me through without a single touch? He was skilled, that was for sure. And skilled among the Court meant dangerous. I would have run from him if so many forces had not been adamantly pushing me toward him.
One cannot fight the tides.
There were tables on tables of refreshments, snacks and deserts. I walked them slowly, eyeing everything with interest. As I strolled, I felt someone fall into step beside me.
“Father,” I greeted him with disinterest.
“Daughter,” he replied in kind. “You did well this afternoon.”
“Did I? I thought you looked angry.” I glanced up at his hard face. “But then you always look angry, I suppose.”
He shook his head, not looking at me. “You get that tongue of yours from your mother. I always thought to cut it out of you someday, but it seems perhaps that would be too rash.”
I looked away. His words should have shocked me, but I had lost that ability years ago.
“Have you found a more sensible solution than mutilating me?”
“I would never really hurt you,” he replied earnestly.
I snorted in disbelief.
“Your governess is one solution,” he explained, ignoring me. “She will be remaining in our service permanently, whether your mother recovers or not.”
I flinched. “Of course she’ll recover. It’s only headaches.”
“Yes. The second solution is this; be as you are. I never imagined your personality could work to your advantage. I’ve always found you to be grating. I hoped that your beauty would be your saving grace. The Prince, however, seems to feel differently. At least for now.” He glanced sideways at me, looking me over critically. My own eyes fell upon a mirage. A drop of water for a land in drought. “Or perhaps your beauty has finally grown so much that it overshadows everything else. Either way, we will stay the course.”
I wasn’t listening anymore. I was frozen in place, my feet becoming entwined with the grass and rooted in the earth.
“In fact,” my father continued, coming to stand in front of me. I did not look at him. “That little stunt of yours worked brilliantly. He won, as did Walburton every year before him, each of them carrying your color. You’re considered something of a talisman. And the Prince does so love to win. You may have sped up the process considerably. I hope to see you married by next year.”
My hands twitched at my sides. My breath was caught in my throat. I reached out slowly with leaden limbs to gently lift a cake from the table in front of me. It was small, round and perfect. But what pulled me, what snared me and gravitated me to it, was its icing.
It was cornflower blue.
The second I touched it, I knew. The texture of it between my fingertips, the weight of it against my skin. Suddenly I was gone from this place. I was transported to another world, another Spring, another table laid heavy with sweet decadence. That cake, that color, they were a message from Bronwyn. From Kian.
From Ro.
I wanted to cry and laugh and devour the whole thing in one bite until its entirety was inside me where no one could take it from me again. Two years had passed and they still remembered. I was not forgotten.
“Put that down, Annabel Lee. You don’t need it,” my father warned.
He was wrong. In that moment it was all I needed.
“Annabel,” he repeated sternly.
“Oh let her have it,” Prince Frederick said lightly, coming to stand in front of me. I looked up at him slowly, unwilling to look away from the memory I held in my hand. Frederick smiled. “Maybe eating something sweet will make her sweet.”
My father chuckled. “If there were a chance it were true, milord, I would feed her cakes for every meal.”
Frederick ignored him. He stared into my eyes, his smile growing.
“On second thought,” he said, wrapping his hand around mine, entangling his fingers with my own. My breath hitched at the touch, but my heart remained steady. Unaffected. He slowly pulled the cake from my grasp, dragging his skin against mine. “I like you just as you are. All salt and no sugar.”
He took a large bite. The cream from the top smeared across his lips and daubed on the end of his nose.
The color did not suit him.
Part Two - Annabel Lee
And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsmen came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulcher
In this kingdom by the sea.
The angels, not half so happy in Heaven,
Went envying her and me
Yes!—that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.
From “Annabel Lee” by Edgar Allen Poe
Chapter Seven
“Annabel,” he whispered, his voice just beneath my ear, his breath hot and wet against my neck.
I leaned my head back and to the side, offering the tender flesh of my neck up to him as I pressed my back harder against his chest. My breath came in hiccups as his hands ran down my arms, his fingertips lightly sliding over the inner curves of my elbows, down to the sensitive skin of my wrists.
“Yes?” I asked breathily.
“How is your skin so soft? It’s unnatural.” His lips brushed against my neck. I shivered. “You’re unnatural.”
“What a cruel thing to say,” I scolded lightly, stepping forward to move out of his reach.
His hands, so languid just a moment before, shot out to grip my hips. He pulled me back to him, wrapping his arms around my waist tightly as he buried his face in my shoulder.
“Well you’re a cruel, unnatural being. Too beautiful to be touched, yet I cannot stop myself.”
I disentangled myself from his embrace. He let me go unwillingly.
I stood in the shadows of the atrium with Frederick, surrounded by the scent of blooms and the sound of a symphony carrying around the room on a light breeze. It was enchanting and forbidden. Encouraged and expected.
“You’ll find a way,” I told him, grinning wickedly. It was a smile I never understood as a child. But as a seventeen year old girl at Court, I was a master of it.
“You give me too much credit. I can’t stay away,” he said, taking my hand in his.
I slipped it deftly away. “Do try.”
He chuckled. “You see? Cruel. Are you casting me away, Annabel Lee?”
“Would it matter if I was?”
“No.”
I laughed lightly, stepping farther away, making my retreat. This was the key that I had learned. Give a little, never all. Never enough.
“Let me go, Frederick. Get back to your guests like a good host. There are many woman here far less cruel who will easily swoon over you.”
“Are you saying I don’t make you swoon?”
I was, but I could never tell him. Frederick and I had been doing this dance for two years now. He was skilled at making a girl lose her breath, her mind and her heart, but for reasons I could never explain to anyone, he’d only accomplished the first with me. I could not deny my react
ion to his touch, the thrill it sent through me every time he was near, but it never reached my heart and I never let it go to my head. Being the object of the Prince’s affections was a dangerous game, one I was determined not to lose, though I had no interest in winning either. My goal was simply to make it through unscathed. What I would have preferred more than anything was obscurity. To be a wallflower existing in the peripheral where I could drink punch, eat cakes and smile at who I liked.
But that had never been and would never be my life.
“I am saying, Your Majesty,” I told him with an exaggerated curtsy as I began to back out of the room, “that we have been away long enough.”
“Oh no, no.” He pulled me close, pressing me against him and lowering his mouth to within a breath of mine. “No amount of time with you is long enough.”
He kissed me then. I let him. It was nice; soft and sweet with just a hint of need, the lightest brushing of his tongue across my lips. But I kept them closed and when the hint became more of a demand, I pulled away.
“Always so careful,” he mumbled breathily. “Always so guarded.”
“How else is a girl to survive you?”
“You could just give in.”
I grinned at him, shaking my head. “Never.”
Then I ran, hearing his laughter trail behind me. I should have gone back to the ballroom. I should have finish the night, made an appearance to let the world know I was still chaste and untouched, but I knew Frederick would return. Probably to find himself a more willing companion for the night. That would have to be statement of our innocence enough. For me, the night was finished. I had done my part, made my father proud and now I would gladly take my leave.
I doubled back to the atrium, drawn in by the sweet scent of the room and its pure emptiness. Somewhere high up in a flowering tree above me, a bird chirped and fluttered in the leaves. I smiled, feeling less alone because of it. I could still hear the party in the distance but I felt detached. Like I was watching the world from higher up, far above the expectations and demands of my life. From a distance that left it fuzzy and obscure, stunning in its lack of detail and definition. My life from afar was a gifted and wonderful thing. Beautiful to look at, I’m sure. I’d been told as much.