Dissever

by Ward, Tracey

  It was living it that was ugly.

  “Are you alone?” Suzanne asked from behind me.

  I turned to find her walking slowly into the room, her hand over her eyes.

  “Are you decent?”

  “More than you are,” I replied, eyeing the plunging neckline of her dress.

  She dropped her hand, smiling at me slyly. “That’s jealousy talking.”

  “Ha! I promise you it’s not. If I were you,” I gestured to her curvaceous figure, “I’d have more troubles than I already do.”

  “Speaking of trouble, where did Frederick go? Why are you in here alone?”

  “Because I wanted to be.”

  “Would you like me to leave?”

  “Are you going to try to kiss me?”

  She chuckled. “I wouldn’t rule it out. What’s the matter, Annabel? Tired of being kissed?”

  “Maybe.”

  “I don’t think that’s it.” Suzanne’s mouth turned down in an uncharacteristic frown. “I think you’re tired of being kissed by the wrong man.”

  “And who would the right man be?”

  “You tell me.”

  I shook my head, looking away.

  “Come on. If you can’t tell me then who can you talk to?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Now you’re lying to me. Not really what friends are supposed to do.”

  “You told me years ago that we’re not friends. We’re nemesis.”

  “Times have changed.”

  “They always do and rarely for the better.”

  “My, aren’t you macabre tonight? I don’t believe I will kiss you after all. You’d probably taste sour.”

  I grinned. “Frederick says I’m no sugar, all salt.”

  “Frederick says a lot of things. Let’s not go quoting him or we’ll be here all night and we’ll be blushing by the end.”

  “I don’t believe you can blush.”

  “Stop stalling. Who is he?”

  “No one,” I snapped, growing frustrated. “I can’t talk about him. It doesn’t matter. I haven’t seen him in years. He probably doesn’t remember me.”

  “No one could forget you.”

  I snorted. “I don’t think that’s true.”

  “And yet it is. You’re the reason I gave up on Frederick. I met you, liked you, and grew to love you. It was then I realized I didn’t stand a chance. No one could forget you. No one could walk away from you.”

  “I’ve never tried to win Frederick’s heart. I don’t want it.” The air in the room stirred, fluttering my hair and brushing a cold wind across my face. I shivered. “I don’t know what I would do with it.”

  “It doesn’t mean you don’t have it.”

  “He’s not in love with me.”

  “Probably not, no. He’s not in love with anyone. But he does love you. And when the time comes, I have no doubt he’ll marry you.”

  I closed my eyes in frustration and pain. I wanted to scream into the night, I wanted to smash the glass walls of this room. I wanted control of my life and my heart and my body. But I had none of it. I belonged to my father and one day he would pass me on to Frederick and I would belong to him. Never to myself. Never to anyone else.

  “Annabel.”

  “I’m going to bed,” I told her abruptly, my voice choked with emotion.

  “What’s his name?”

  “I can’t. I—Suzanne, I can’t.”

  “Why not? I’ll never tell, I swear it.”

  The breeze stirred again, swirling around our skirts and rustling the fabric. Suzanne scowled as she scanned the windows. None were open.

  “It’s not that,” I told her, pulling my arms around myself against the sudden chill in the air.

  “Then what are you afraid of?”

  “I’m afraid of saying his name. Of making him real again, of knowing how much I’ve lost. It’s everything! He is, he was, everything. All that I ever wanted, all that I could ever need, it was all in him. Every dream I ever had was in his eyes and I’ll never get it back.”

  Suzanne stood in front of me watching me rant. I was bursting at the seams with frustration, sadness, longing, hurt and so much residual love and joy just at the thought of him that I could feel myself glowing with it. I was smiling through my tears, because as much as it hurts to miss him, it felt indescribably good to still love him.

  “What’s his name?” she asked softly, her eyes shining.

  I closed my eyes and breathed deeply.

  “Roarke.”

  There was a violent shifting in the tree above me. Petals and leaves cascaded down like rain landing in my hair, on my clothes. The sweet smell of the blooms flooded the air making me smile, reminding me of the Queen’s funeral when the Tem Aedha showered the road with flower petals.

  Then there was a thump beside me. Suzanne screamed. Startled, I jumped back.

  At my feet was a dead bird.

  Chapter Eight

  Suzanne and Robert Hannaford become engaged, then unengaged, then engaged again. I was never concerned. They were inevitable, they just didn’t know it yet. Frederick continued to spread his charm throughout the Court, across the kingdom, though he always made time for me. Despite the endless parade of woman that walked across the stage of his life, the only recurring character was me. My father expected a proposal any day, even though it was a formality. The betrothal was in place, ordained by the pure omniscience of the church and the Saints, making it a matter of ‘when’, not ‘if’. Maybe Frederick and I were inevitable as well. I simply didn’t want it. He was exciting and his touch sent shivers down my spine. When he whispered my name with that hint of agony in his voice, as though my very existence was a torment to him, my breath left me. This was Frederick’s magic. But that’s all it was with him; a trick. It wasn’t real like the love and sugar and warmth of Bronwyn’s magic. His were forged moments that made me feel what every other girl felt when offered his smile. When he was gone, I felt nothing. I didn’t long for him, I didn’t dream of him, I didn’t sigh when his name was spoken. He was like a rainbow; rare and enchanting, exciting to stumble on, but when it was gone I didn’t waste a moment of thought on it.

  Yet every day, every single day as surely as the sun rose in the sky, I thought of Roarke.

  “Oh come on, Annabel,” Suzanne prodded. “You’re not afraid are you?”

  “Not of The Shallows, no,” I replied.

  Her eyes softened, realizing what I wasn’t saying. “You’re seventeen. You’re a grown woman.”

  “It doesn’t mean anything to him. I won’t cease to be his until I’m in the grave. Maybe not even then.”

  Suzanne frowned, her pretty, lively face falling to shadow.

  “He’s the worst kind of person,” she grumbled.

  “You have to come with us,” Robert insisted. “Frederick will be there. Your father won’t protest to anything you do where Frederick is concerned.”

  “I can think of a few things.”

  I heard Elaine sigh disapprovingly behind me.

  “What was that, little mouse?” I asked her.

  She didn’t answer.

  I cocked an eyebrow at Suzanne. “You’ve angered her.”

  “Oh she’s always angry at me. Little mouse, should we go to The Shallows? Visit the devil and his cohorts?”

  I expected silence again. What I heard shocked me to my core.

  “If we’re going to go, then let’s go. I’d rather be actively dying at the hands of The Saints than standing here talking about how brave we aren’t.”

  I gaped at Elaine, stunned into silence.

  “Annabel,” Suzanne whispered, clutching at my arm, “we’ve broken her.”

  “I never thought I’d see the day. Is it a trick?”

  “Maybe… She might be possessed.”

  “Probably by the spirits of the sea and she challenges us now to lure us to our deaths,” I whispered loudly to Suzanne.

  We stood side
by side holding onto one another, staring at Elaine. She glared back.

  “Or maybe she’s in love with Frederick and hadn’t chosen to follow along on this dangerous adventure until she knew he was going as well.”

  Suzanne and I pivoted as one, turning to gape at Robert.

  “Why would you say that?” I asked him curiously.

  He chuckled. “Because it’s true. Isn’t it, Elaine?”

  Suzanne and I pivoted again, turning back to Elaine. She blushed crimson.

  “It is true!” Suzanne shouted.

  “How did Robert know and we didn’t?” I demanded.

  “Because I’m far more observant than you are,” Robert answered.

  I shushed him, keeping my eyes on Elaine and her glowing red cheeks.

  “You really are in love with him,” I said in awe.

  She didn’t speak but nodded faintly, avoiding my eyes.

  “Why didn’t you tell us?” Suzanne asked.

  Elaine sighed again, this time sounding tired. She finally met my eyes as she answered Suzanne’s question.

  “Because you’re going marry him.”

  I winced as though I’d been struck. “I am not,” I denied senselessly.

  “Are you sure?” Robert asked.

  This time Suzanne shushed him.

  I shook my head, denying it with each movement but knowing it was useless. My father, the King, the High Priest and the Saints themselves had spoken. I would marry Prince Frederick and that was that.

  “My mother says it’s not up to him,” I protested weakly, my voice and strength fading from me.

  “What does that mean?” Suzanne asked.

  I shrugged. I still had no idea.

  “How is your mother?”

  “Not well,” I whispered, looking back to the castle where she lay. “She hasn’t been out of bed for days. No one seems to be able to help her.”

  “The doctors don’t know what’s wrong with her?” Suzanne asked, squeezing my arm that was still linked with hers.

  “No, no one knows.” I took a deep breath. “They’ve begun to talk about taking her to The Tombs.”

  Elaine gasped. I felt Suzanne tense beside me.

  The Tombs were the hospital on the island, though that of course was not its real name. I didn’t even know its real name at that point. I still don’t. All I’ve ever heard it called is The Tombs. Though it was a supposed place of healing, once a body went in, it didn’t come out. Not alive at least. Not that we’d ever heard of.

  “Annabel, I’m sorry,” Robert says, his deep voice low and earnest.

  “Why are you sorry?” Frederick asked happily, bounding into the failing light of the evening. “What have you done to my beautiful Annabel Lee?”

  “Nothing,” I said as brightly as I could, quickly swiping a tear from my cheek.

  I turned to face him, drinking in his ever present life and vitality. I would not be weighed down that night, not by anything. Not by my father and his expectations or my mother and her illness. Not even by the hollow corner of my heart that forever ached for someone long since out of reach. That night, I would be everything I used to be before this world laid heavy on my shoulders. Before I left the gardens and the maze, before I gave up tarts. I would be young, happy and alive. Even if it killed me.

  When Frederick met my eyes he must have seen the blaze of emotion there, the determination, because he smiled approvingly.

  “To The Shallows?” he asked me, offering his arm.

  I glanced hesitantly at Elaine. She looked away quickly, staring out to sea. The movement made me feel so full of knowings that I wish I didn’t know that I felt like I’d sink to the center of the Earth if I wasn’t careful where I stepped. I yearned to be weightless. Flying.

  I grinned devilishly at Frederick, gathering my skirts in my hands and bringing them up nearly to my knees. His eyes grew wide with surprise and interest.

  “To The Shallows,” I told him.

  Then I ran. I sprinted off the paved stones of the courtyard, down the hill, heading straight for the gates. I heard the sound of the others following me; foot beats on the ground behind me, giggling from Suzanne, an excited cry from Robert. But I didn’t care. I didn’t care if they followed me or caught up to me or passed me. I didn’t care if they let me run myself down to nothing. All I knew was that it felt good to escape. To feel my heart careening in my chest for the first time in a long, long time.

  We ran through the gates, startling the guards who began to shout at me until they saw the Prince close behind. He was my ticket outside. Then all was silent except for the wind through my ears and my feet on the ground. I felt my hair slip from its confinements and spiral out behind me, a mess of curling, golden tendrils. I’d look a mess when I was through running, though I wondered if I ever would be. Maybe I’d go on forever. Maybe I’d outrun everyone and everything until I was striding on the wind, high over the sea, leaving the island and all of its walls and rules and lies behind me.

  As the sun set farther into the sea and clouds formed to shroud its last light, I set my sights on the edge of the cliff overlooking The Shallows. I’d have to stop soon or risk running over the edge and plummeting to my death on the sharp, black rocks below. And I didn’t want to die. I simply did not want my life. Though they sound similar, to me, those are two entirely different things.

  I was watching the edge come closer and closer, slowing myself to stop, when a cloud shifted. A ray of sunlight pierced my eyes, blinding me entirely. I lost track of the edge and of myself. I should have stopped. I should have dropped to the ground. I should have changed course, veered right, headed back toward solid ground. I should have done a lot of things. What I did instead was step right off the edge of the cliff.

  A scream formed in my throat but never manifested. My trailing skirts snagged on something solid and strong, whipping me back over the earth and taking the air from my lungs. I heard a rip, felt the pull on my dress go slack, then I was tumbling forward, my face careening toward the cliff edge again. A strong arm wrapped around my waist and pulled me up. My hair flew across my eyes, blinding me as I was yanked against the chest of a man.

  “Annabel!” Suzanne shouted.

  “Annabel Lee!” Elaine cried.

  “Anna,” Roarke murmured.

  I felt my name rumble through his chest into mine, feeling it pass between our bodies more than hearing it. That simple sound, that tiny movement, stumbled my racing heart until it stopped. Just as it always had. As it ever will.

  I raised my head as the wind whipped my hair aside, clearing my eyes. Blue. Cornflower, perfect, brilliant, blue eyes. They filled my vision until they were all I could see. The breath in my lungs escaped in one swift, surprised movement just as my stomach fluttered violently. And my heart. My heart recovered from its stumble, found its footing and raced away, running across the island, over the lake, through the fields and deep down into the golden forest.

  “Ro,” I breathed.

  “Annabel, are you alright?” Frederick demanded.

  He grasped my arm, pulling me from Roarke’s embrace. I very nearly fought him. I raised my arm to lash out at him, to slap him, to punch him, anything it took to be released. To be returned to Roarke, to where I belonged. But I checked myself just in time. I glanced quickly over my shoulder only to find Roarke stepping back from me, his bright eyes all I could make out in the rapidly failing light. I had stood so close to him but now I could hardly see him.

  Frederick nodded to him briefly, barely noticing my savior. “Well done.”

  Roarke nodded sharply. Then he turned away. He was gone.

  Tears pricked my eyes. Seeing him again, touching him, it had been too much but not enough. I was on fire, burned to the core of me, but shivering with cold. This was the feeling that Frederick could never conjure, no matter how great a magician he may have been. This roiling tension in every fiber of my limbs that made my heart scream in my chest. That joy and sorrow, pleasure and agony, the briefest
moment of being fulfilled and then the unbearable hollow left in its wake. I knew that that miniscule moment with Roarke would haunt me in ways that hours with Frederick never could.

  “Are you alright, darling?” Frederick asked, his hand smoothing back my wild hair. He had never used a term of endearment like that with me before. I worried at what it meant.

  “Yes, I’m fine.” I glanced back over my shoulder, searching for Roarke in the shadows. He was truly gone. “He saved my life,” I whispered.

  “The peasant? Yes, I guess he did.”

  “You scared me nearly to death, you idiot!” Suzanne exclaimed, pulling me from Frederick’s grasp and hugging me tightly. Elaine took hold of me from the other side, pressing me between them like a flower in the pages of a book. I rested my head against Suzanne’s shoulder gratefully as I held them to me. I needed their warmth and strength to stop shivering, to calm my heart.

  “You’re shaking,” Elaine mumbled against my back. “We should take you home immediately.”

  “No,” I said forcefully, surprising everyone, including myself. I shook them off of me gently. “I won’t go back now. We’re seeing The Shallows.”

  Elaine frowned. “Are you sure? You should really lie down and relax. You’re so pale I can see your face through the darkness.”

  I glanced over my shoulder one last time. I knew he was there somewhere. I could feel him nearby as though touching him had woken something in me, something I couldn’t turn off.

  “I’m not sure of anything anymore,” I whispered.

  “That is the perfect mindset for undertaking something dangerous and monumentally stupid,” Robert told me sagely.

  I turned to him and grinned. “You are the expert so I nominate you as my guide. Lead on, brave fool.”