“I like the fit. I may use it to lure that new servant.” Lulu smirked. She moved toward my chamber door. “You can’t have it all, Izzy.”
“Can’t I?”
She dismissed me with a flick of her wrist and disappeared through the door. I launched to my feet and stood in the open doorway. “Especially the kitchen knife thing!”
A sentry dared a look. I slammed the doors to block him out.
That night I obeyed my mother for once in my life and washed the red streak from my hair. When I exited my bath chambers, I found new makeup on my vanity. Gone were the plum lipsticks and black kohls, replaced with softer hues of coral and cream with crushed powder, rouge and azurite eyeshadow. I hated it all save for the eyeshadow. That, I could work with.
Anxiety filled my stomach as I neared my closet and pushed open the doors. I expected everything to be replaced, especially my riding clothes, but surprisingly nothing had been touched. Even Henry’s filthy riding boots. I smiled, but it faltered when I approached my bed to find a new dress laid out there.
The gown looked like something a child would wear. Shapeless. Cape-sleeved with a cream lace bodice and a cascading purple skirt that was layered beyond layered with tulle. I frowned. It was so…full. I could hide a small child underneath, and nobody would ever know.
Groaning, I pushed it over the edge of my bed like the dirty interloper it was. I contemplated hiding it from my maid when she came to dress me tomorrow morning, but my cascade of pillows looked suddenly inviting.
I’d almost forgotten about the claw marks until I closed my eyes. I thought back, considering every possible explanation, and still came up short. They wouldn’t have warranted this much attention if it weren’t for the way Milke’ and the others had reacted. I liked mysteries, and maybe having one like this would help me get through my mother’s incessant match-making.
I slept with the gut-twisting thought of having to entertain a prince.
Chapter 3
The following morning, I woke to find that the hideous dress moved from the floor to my bed once again. “Pedoma,” I said, suspiciously. My maid heard the subsequent curse and clicked her tongue before throwing open the curtains and subjecting me to the blinding morning sunlight. I hissed like a snake and covered my head with my blankets. “Prince Ashe arrives in two hours’ time. Are you excited?”
“I find nothing exciting this early in the morning,” I quipped, pulling my blankets against her tug. She finally succeeded in pulling them off despite her having more than six years on me.
Pedoma set her mouth into a frown, the wrinkles around her eyes deepening. “You can’t welcome a prince looking like you just rolled out of bed.”
I smiled. “I did just roll out of bed.” I paused. Her face was stone. “Fine, tell me about this prince, my dear maid.”
“Twenty-four years-old.”
Too old.
“Tall.”
Of course.
“Handsome.”
Undoubtedly.
“Intelligent.”
My eye twitched. That was a new one.
Pedoma sighed. “Calf and potatoes for dinner.”
Lovely.
I smiled at my maid. She knew everything, which I suppose was to be expected when you were older than dirt.
“Two hours is nowhere near enough time to primp for such a guest,” I said, wafting in and out of the smears of light gleaming through my window. “It will take an hour alone to scrub the dirt from underneath my nails.”
Pedoma balled up her robe, bent down, and retrieved the dress from the floor. “You should be more excited. The Peek Islands are known for their attractive men.”
I groaned.
“Not you too. He’s a man, you know. Just like every other.” I’ll kiss him, maybe more than once. Let him think he could have it all, and then leave him drifting in the breeze. Just like the others.
“By that logic, you are just a girl, just like every other.”
“Lies. I’m unique.” I stumbled into a curtsey. “Haven’t you noticed?”
“Briefly.” She glowered down at the dress. “Dear, it’s not very pretty, is it?”
I flopped back onto the bed and pressed my cheek against the fabric. “What? Sixty-five pounds of purple tulle isn’t my color?”
Pedoma stifled a laugh. “I’ll make you a deal. If you allow me to comb out that bird’s nest you call hair, I will let you dress yourself. How about that?”
I smiled and skipped across the room to hug the old woman. “You’re too good to me. It excuses the intrusions you’ve subjected me to for the past seventeen years.”
An hour later, I had already cleaned up and let Pedoma comb and form my hair into a series of intricate braids that she pinned and twisted. She then left me to dress, which I did in half a second. I admired myself in the mirror for as long as it took to exhale. If anything, the gown covered my dozens of scrapes and bruises, though I looked like I should have been a wedding centerpiece. I grabbed the sack of tusks that I had hidden behind my armchair and quietly left my chambers.
I had one thing to do before giving up all my time to the Prince of the Peek Islands.
As always, Crim shadowed me as I walked down the hallway. We went down to the main floor via a winding staircase and crossed the main hall, already bustling with expectation for the prince’s arrival. Several members of the court greeted me. I acknowledged them with a nod but kept moving.
All around me wafted smells of exquisite food—meant for the prince, I assumed. I shouldered my way through, keeping the sack tucked against my side. I slid into a corridor away from all the noise, and stopped in front of a simple wooden door that led to a not-so-simple place.
Crim stopped with me and signed, You look pretty this morning.
I narrowed my eyes, unconvinced. “Really?”
He nodded. Do you feel as much like a cake as you look?
I rolled my eyes. “You’re relieved.”
He bowed silently, his eyes gleaming with amusement. Don’t be long. You don’t want to endure your mother’s wrath two days in a row.
I nodded, and with Crim gone, I pulled open the door and slinked through—as well as my stupid dress allowed—closing it behind me. The air in the catacombs was stale at first, but the further you walked, the more it smelled like a forest. But sweeter, like herbs and root. It took away the dreariness of such a place and turned it into something pleasing to at least one of the senses.
I knew the passageways by heart. I could even navigate them in the dark. But I didn’t need to. Torches lined the walls and flickered orange through the gloom, stretching my shadow. I turned right, past the rooms built into the stone, which were used as an infirmary. They were full back when the war was on this side of the mountains. If there’s one thing you always remember, it’s the sound of those hanging onto life by a stitching thread.
I kept pace through the labyrinth of corridors until I came to a dead end. My father employed the best healers in all Mirosa, and they worked in the catacombs. One of them had been my friend for as long as I could remember. His workshop was the very last door on the right, which sat broken and hanging on one hinge.
Often, I’d come down to hear him cursing at one thing or another before I crossed the threshold and today was no exception. I gripped the door and pulled it open, letting it lean against itself so it wouldn’t bend the only hinge keeping it together. The curses came in different octaves depending on where Pyrus was in his monologue. Right now, they sounded higher-pitched, in a side room in the very back.
I entered Pyrus’ room, inching the door closed behind me. Filled to the brim with supplies, there was always something new to see. Shelves boasted vials, old weathered books, bones, skulls. Strings of animal teeth hung from the ceiling like ornaments while more stacks of books and crates competed for space on the floor. On a table in the far corner sat scales and dishes with disjointed reptile parts and jars with holes poked in them. From the high open window sat a crow, who an
nounced my arrival with a screech.
“Can’t you see that I’m not—” From an alcove, Pyrus walked in, his nose in a book. He looked to the crow and then to me. “You’re right, Pax. It is Izzy, isn’t it? And so early. There must be something significant happening today.”
“Depends on who you ask,” I replied and set down the sack. “Boar. Fifty inches at least.”
“My!” Pyrus shouted the word, his voice as massive as his size. He set down his book. It missed the table and fell to the floor at his feet. “How big was the animal?”
“At least fifty pounds of good meat after cooking,” I replied.
Pyrus removed his wire-frame glasses, put them in the pocket of his robe, rubbed the sweat from the sides of his nose, and examined the tusks. “Are you certain it wasn’t larger?”
“Such would be a giant, and we know they don’t exist.” I frowned as I remembered the claw marks, but shook the thought away.
He didn’t look up, but I sensed a smile in his words. “I wouldn’t say that.”
“Will it be enough?”
I know that the boar tusks, once shaved into a powder, could make a large number of medicines. I hoped the two I brought to Pyrus would make enough to last the winter for the entire population of Stormwall.
Pyrus shook his head. “Not nearly, but I appreciate your efforts. I am sure the huntsmen will make up the difference.”
From the small window, Pax cawed short and loud and bent his head back and forth quizzically. Pyrus bellowed a laugh that shook his belly. “Yes, she does look like a cake, doesn’t she?”
I glowered at my dress. “If one more person says that, I swear I will scream.”
But Pyrus was too busy with the boar tusks to even respond. I went along the wall, examining the jars and tracing my finger through the dust upon the ledges. It wouldn’t be long before I must welcome yet another suitor into my house This time, a prince. Imagine that! My mother sure could. I bet she’d already written the wedding invitations. Maybe even the vows.
Such an alliance would please my father. The Peek Islands had always been civil to Mirosa and the New Kingdom, but had yet to sign as allies. The Islanders were highly trained, most chosen from the island’s higher born and trained to fight as soon as they were able. They riddled the fantasies of schoolgirls, especially my cousin. Shirtless warriors with calves the size of my torso. I started to wonder if their prince was just the same. Maybe this prince wouldn’t be so dull after all.
I must have sighed too many times, because Pyrus gave me a concerned look.
“You’re not waiting here for more beetles, are you?” he asked, a glint of amusement in his eyes.
I huffed. “Why does everyone keep bringing that up?”
From the window, Pax answered. Pyrus erupted in laughter.
“What did that mangy bird say?” I glared toward the window. Pax felt my stare and hopped so that his tail was facing me.
“You don’t want to know,” said Pyrus. Before I could press further, the clock tower rung out its warning bell. In the castle, it signaled the court to make their way down to the dining hall for breakfast. For me, it felt like a concrete ball in my gut.
“Off I go to welcome another spoiled boy with polished boots,” I said, wiping my dusty fingers onto the skirt of my dress.
“Will they never stop?” There was a hint of anger in his voice that made me smile. “It’s almost as if they want you to be miserable!”
“Well, I’m ready.”
“Are you?”
If a million years came and went, I’d never be ready, but there was no use in saying it.
Pyrus frowned. “Be brave, young lady. All of this will pass.”
I put a hand to Pyrus’ shoulder. “Do me a favor, Pyrus, and get some sun,” I said as I turned to leave. “No use spending all of your time with crows and darkness. The Uncanny would be envious of your living quarters soon enough.”
Pyrus scoffed at the mention of the curators of the dark underworld. He hated when I compared him to devils and demons, even in jest. The thought of such things bothered him more than I would have thought for someone who uses dead animal parts as décor.
“I hear the vendors in the marketplace have sacred greens.” I paused at the doorway and turned to the medicine man. “Your blood pressure could use it.”
Taking my time, I made my way back up to the main floor of the castle. I had no sooner stepped foot inside the main hall when my maid spotted me. She took position behind me and nearly shoved me across the room and up to the rise, where my mother sat on the sapphire throne beside my father’s. Lulu came up from the hidden chamber doors behind me, followed by her mother and father.
“Must we stand here like idiots until they stride through the front door?” I said, leaning into my cousin. She wore a seafoam green dress with a simple silver sash. Her hair flowed over both of her shoulders.
“Must you always one-up me?” asked Lulu poking at the tulle of my skirt. “You look like a—"
I wanted to sew her mouth closed. “I swear to the gods—"
“Manners. The both of you.”
I straightened at my mother’s words. She was right, of course. Every jeweled chandelier on the vaulted ceiling was lit, and flags bearing the symbol of the House of Rowan, the bear, hung loosely on metal poles. I counted at least a dozen of them before resting my eyes on the double doors at the end of the room.
This was the first time we would be welcoming a prince, and knowing my history with boys, certainly not the last.
The massive double doors opened just as the clock tower struck nine. “How punctual.” I muttered loud enough for my mother to hear, but she paid me no heed. Her eyes were fixed on the front of the hall where the prince had now appeared with a procession of guards behind him. She rose from her throne as he walked up the steps to meet her, trumpeters blaring and making my ears ring.
“Your Majesty,” said Prince Ashe with a bow. He kissed my mother’s outstretched hand. I tilted my head to get a better look, my eyes roving from the top of his head to his strong jawline to the solid build of his body to way his lips lingered on my mother’s hand for far too long. He seemed more man than I expected. He reminded me of an elk—built hard, growing more beautiful the closer he stood.
Moments later his gaze locked on mine, and I held his stare. He bowed gracefully and when he straightened, his eyes dropped, roving over my body in such a quick motion that it was almost a blink. My knee jerked, poised for the prince’s groin, but I could not let him get to me.
I took him in, longer than I should have. Straight nose, dark, slashed brows and a mouth made for a face like his with a full bottom and a spare upper lip. Good for kissing. I clicked my tongue. He was far too attractive to not have faults. But he seemed the type to display his physical beauty as if it were the most important thing. I’d have to dig to find the boy’s shortcomings.
When my eyes returned to his, I found one eyebrow quirked. In a short movement, the Prince of the Peeks kissed my hand. With his lips still pressed against the delicate skin of my hand, he looked up to me with bottle-green eyes and smirked.
Chapter 4
We ran hand in hand down the hallways of the castle, our gowns billowing behind us, leaving a trail of hysterical laughter as we tripped over our skirts and practically tumbled out into the gardens, where I removed my shoes and fell in the grass. My cousin followed suit.
“I cannot believe your luck,” squeaked Lulu, spreading her hands above her head as if she wanted to hug the air. “I mean, just when I thought your suitors couldn’t get any prettier!”
I picked out a cloud that resembled a deer and stared at it until it thinned into something less familiar. I sighed. Prince Ashe was not a bare-chested island warrior with tanned skin, a spear in one hand, and the head of his enemy in the other, but he did possess the handsomeness of lore. His cropped hair was a golden bronze, and his eyes were the color of moss, greener once the light hit them. He stood tall in his black and s
ilver uniform topped with red epaulets and small medals that glinted as he rose from his bow.
A smirk?
That boy smirked at me! This, before he kissed my hand and then went on to spend four tenacious hours in the presence room cozying up to my mother. I mean, he practically had her in the palm of his hand with his poise and charm. My mother was gushing! She had thirty years on him, and she was…gushing!
Gods, I hated smirkers.
And worse was that she wanted me to do the same. I had more courtly nonsense over the past six months than I knew how to handle. But I smiled and agreed with everything they said, and at the first opportunity, I found Lulu and did what I did best.
I ran.
“Why don’t you marry him, then?” I propped myself up on my elbow and rested my cheek in my hand. “I swear they would never know if you cut off that birthmark on your shoulder. Then I can dally all over Mirosa, and you can wear that heavy crown on your head.”
Lulu stared up at the sky and grinned. “I wonder how many times your mother’s hair gets caught in that thing.”
“Don’t you know? She’s balding on the top, which is why Pyrus brings her that cocktail every evening—to regrow her hair.”
Lulu raised her eyebrows. “Really?”
I laughed and pushed myself up to my feet. I gazed at the sights and sounds of palace life. Guards stood like sentinels at every entry. Along the paved road in front of us, four councilmen in yellow robes strode by, clustered in conversation. They gave slight bows, but not a second look. Past them by the residences, children played hide and seek in the massive fountain and the box hedges. Beyond that lay the cemetery where I spoke to Henry.
“He reminds me of somebody, you know.”
I snapped to attention. “Hmm?”
Lulu stood up beside me looking off where the four councilmen had turned into tiny dots on the horizon. “Prince Ashe reminds of somebody,” she stated. “He reminds me of Henry.”
I scoffed at her. “How so? And please don’t say looks because that is just weird.”
Unspoken Page 3