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Unspoken

Page 22

by Celia Mcmahon


  It was a long time before I could sleep that night.

  When I did, nightmares riddled my body with shivers down to its very core. I woke in a sweat, bathed in the moonlight from the open curtains. I laid perfectly still, trying to push out the horrible images my mind had created. It was several seconds before I realized that I wasn’t alone.

  I made a sound like a gasp as my father entered my room. He sat in the armchair at the far end, watching me. I squeezed my eyes shut. Had he seen that I was awake? Why had he been there to begin with?

  Movement. I steadied my breathing to appear as if I were sleeping. My heart beat way too fast. He’d know. I let out a deep sigh and turned to my side, clinging to my blanket. The mattress shifted a moment later. All I could do was hold my breath now.

  “Sweetling,” said my father in a whisper. He was close, running a hand down my hair and all the way to the small of my back. His touch lingered there. For a moment all I could think about was why? You had everything. Were you so miserable as to force my life to mirror your own? Go back. Go back to your conquering and doing what you do best and leave me out of it.

  Go back.

  I swallowed hard, his hand edging its way to my hipbone where he squeezed gently. “You will give me sons,” he said in that same whisper. “Many of them. And if Ashe can’t do his duty, I know where to find you.”

  I stayed perfectly still. Every inch of me was frozen, and the building pressure in my chest felt as though it was going to cave in at any moment. My heart beat faster and faster, thoughts directed to something. Please, anything other than this. I pretended I was somewhere else. A field. The woods. A lake. Not breathing, because breathing meant that I was in that bed with my father beside me and the world was a shattered glass with the pieces cutting my skin and I bled and bled until someday I wouldn’t suffer anymore, and I would be hollowed out. The way he wanted me to be.

  I dared to pray for a reprieve. That Fray would come. I prayed for the magic to be real and to whisk me away

  Then I breathed.

  His hand released just as I felt hot tears behind my eyes. I could feel him, standing there, looking at my body inch by inch. Even when he left, I could feel his eyes.

  His eyes. His voice. His very breath. Everything promised horror.

  I lost track of how many hours I cried.

  Chapter 32

  I bathed and scrubbed until my skin was hot and pink. In a flurry of perfumes and silk, I was polished into the future queen that I would become.

  My hair was pulled into a barrette so that half of it came down onto my shoulders in shiny black curls. They powdered my face until there was no redness or blemish in sight, curled my lashes, and lined my eyes with white kohl.

  I could only marvel at the young woman staring back at me, groomed in the finest of Mirosian fabric and gems. I was ready to dance, to capture everyone’s attention. I had to. It was my duty. But it didn’t stop the immense dread in my stomach.

  I supposed that only I could see the sadness in my eyes.

  I stood there for a long while, looking past my reflection. I closed my eyes and let a single tear fall. Pedoma came up behind me and used a finger to brush it away. I folded, clutching my stomach, but she pushed me upright. You can do it, her look said. Isabelle, you can do it.

  Crim waited for me outside of my room. He extended his arm and I took it as we walked down the hall. Maids trailed behind me, lifting my dress so that it wouldn’t get soiled. One called for me and handed me a mask, a feathery white piece that fit over my eyes. I stared at it and then looked down the hall in the other direction. There I saw freedom, my dress torn off and my jewelry scattered. But then Crim squeezed my hand and guided me away.

  Two massive doors separated us from the courtyard. There on the mezzanine, I could see the party was already in full swing. With all the men dressed in black wearing masks of their own, it would be next to impossible to determine who was who, save for my mother and father who stood greeting guests. They acted so normal. As if nothing had happened between us.

  You can do it, Isabelle, the voice in my head whispered. I closed my eyes, letting all thoughts of Fray Castor and everything I had learned slip away. I took three deep breaths to calm my rattled nerves.

  Letting go of Crim’s arm, I put on my mask and descended the mezzanine steps.

  The courtyard had been made to look like we were standing amongst the stars. Lights were strewn from balcony to balcony, window to window, tree to tree until they outshined even the real things. Crowds weaved in between one another, dancing and imbibing and eating from the many platters the servants showcased to them. It was dizzying to witness. So dizzying that I had to hold onto the railing to steady myself.

  This place looked like heaven, but it felt like I was descending into hell.

  My father had locked down the entire castle, so that even a trip to the kitchen was out of the question. Every step I took was shadowed. Even when he wasn’t near, I still heard his voice, echoing the hollow feeling I felt inside.

  The very sight of my father now turned my bones cold. I wondered if this had been my fate all along.

  A man, dressed in black with a green mask, scaly like a dragon, held out his black gloved hand. I breathed in deep, then sighed. Don’t be scared. Let go of your fears.

  Let go. Some of the worst words ever spoken.

  I gave him a nod. We danced, and as we did, I watched his lips, the way he moved, and the dark of his eyes behind his mask. He was unfamiliar in every way. I looked at the masks around me. I watched them all until they blurred. Before I knew it, my head was spinning, and my feet moved of their own accord. That was when I saw her.

  Standing by the hedges, chewing on her fingernail, was Lulu. She looked elegant in her cream and yellow gown with white pearls. When our eyes met, she lifted her hand in a tentative wave. I couldn’t get myself to wave back even if I wanted to. Archibald stepped up beside her and offered his hand. To my pleasure, she shook her head and the pig Ashe called his Captain of the Guard sank back into the crowds. Probably to find a more inviting partner. One who was blind, perhaps.

  I took in the people around me. There were the sons of lords, high military commanders and generals, and perhaps even boys I had already met on one occasion or another. There were also older gentlemen and ladies, unmasked but dressed as elegantly as everyone else. The way they conversed and laughed with my parents told me they knew them well, though I’d never seen them before. As if you ever stepped outside of Stormwall, I thought. There were probably hundreds of people my parents knew that had never entered my presence.

  After a dozen dances, I tore myself away toward a table where several people were gathered. I snatched a cup and guzzled it down . My throat burned with the taste of alcohol, and my head spun more than ever. A man approached, his face concealed in a silver, uniquely carved mask. It formed around his nose and cheekbones, almost becoming a part of him. It was one of the more beautiful ones I had seen that evening.

  Even dressed like that, I knew a prince when I saw one. “They broke you, Izzy,” he said. He made no attempt to come nearer. “Please, can we talk about this?”

  I shook my head at Ashe and straightened myself, nodding at the man waiting behind him. I crossed the courtyard with my new partner, and we danced. I may have even smiled. Anything to get away from the prince.

  Nearby sat my mother and father, knocking cups together. Wearing masks of bright red jewels. My mother’s kept falling from her face. She was smiling. I couldn’t remember the last time she had done that.

  Things began to blur again. I wasn’t even looking at the man I was dancing with. It didn't matter much.

  But then something caught my eye.

  From a group of masked men standing against a wall came a shadow. I shielded my eyes from the bright lights hanging above my head, but by the time they adjusted, it had vanished.

  I lost count of the many men I danced with. Some I recognized by their voices, and some I even indulge
d with a kiss when the king and queen were watching. I glanced at Lulu sporadically, hoping my anger at her would slip away and I would forgive her. When that didn’t happen, I took in one or two more cups of ale until nothing mattered.

  So, I nodded and kept on nodding, and each time I did, I felt my world slipping away piece by piece.

  Until the moment the shadow returned.

  This time it took the shape of a man in a nightmarish blood-red mask with horns that twisted like deer antlers. On his hands were red gloves that stood out against his black attire.

  He neared me, slowly, as the music changed from the fast-paced waltz to a slow ballad. He held out his right hand. I felt bone-tired, but some part of me welcomed the abhorrent costume this man had chosen.

  With nothing to lose, I nodded.

  He moved gracefully, leading me as if we had done it a million times before. But that was where his talent stopped. He stepped on my foot and grunted beneath his mask. Somehow that made me smile. Through the eyeholes of my mask, I watched him. The mask shadowed his eyes, but I could feel them matching my gaze. I moved my hands down to the muscle of his back and his arms. Was it the effect of the alcohol I’d consumed, or did this man seem familiar? He certainly couldn’t dance worth a damn.

  He tipped his head so that I could take in the bright blue of his eyes and the familiar line of his jaw. I strained to breathe. It couldn’t be. Could it?

  He stepped on my foot again and I knew.

  I mouthed the word: How?

  And then the thought, my father will kill you.

  He brought a red-gloved finger to his lips as they curved into a smile. We weaved in and out, further from the crowds and my oblivious parents as fireworks lit up the night sky. With everyone distracted, he pushed me further away, through the masses and the hedges lining the castle rampart.

  My head spun so fast that I felt it would fly from my neck. “How did you get here?”

  His answering smile was fierce, almost as devilish as his mask. Fray took a dramatic bow and stepped away from me, removing his mask and tossing it onto the ground. He neared me, slowly, halting a finger’s length away. He pushed both hands onto the wall, trapping me between them. I looked at the hair that settled into his eyes and moved it away. Something wicked flashed behind his eyes as laughter boomed from the party behind us. I focused on him until there was nothing but the brown-haired, blue-eyed boy.

  “Fray, you can’t be here,” I whispered. He shouldn’t be here. It was suicide. But he was there. He came back. “Why are you here?”

  The last word had barely left my lips before he leaned in and pressed his mouth to mine. A protest died on my lips and I grabbed his waist, pulling him closer. His hands cupped my face as his lips crashed against mine.

  The kiss was obliterating. I pressed closer, determined to close any space left between us. He responded with a deep rumble from his throat. His hands slid down my waist, curving along my hips where they came to rest. I could feel his fingers pressing through the fabric of my dress. A wave of sensation coursed through my entire body as if I were inside of a sliver of lightning. The fear of this kind of human touch mixed with the pleasure of it. Had this been something he’d wanted? Was this something I wanted?

  He scooted his hips away from mine and took a deep breath, letting it out through his nose. You started it, he signed.

  “Is this payback then?” I grinned wickedly. “I like your ways, Fray Castor.”

  The thought of kissing him again made me smile. That was until I remembered where we were.

  “Fray, you have to run. Far from here.” My breath was coming too fast now, and I forced myself to relax. His mouth was soft. His hands, just under my breasts, made my body shiver with panic and pleasure. I closed my eyes. This was something I wanted, but not right now. “As much as I enjoy kissing you, my father is back. It is not safe.”

  Fray shook his head. I sighed. Leave it to me to pick the stubborn ones. At least now I didn’t feel so broken. Having him here told me that there was some hope for me.

  “What?” I inquired, moving a hand to his face. “Fray, what is it?”

  I studied his eyes, now watery, almost sad. What had he endured in the days he had been gone? Or was it something else entirely that tugged at him?

  And then my heart sputtered. Pyrus’ cure—it hadn’t worked.

  “We’ll find a way,” I told him, disappointment coiling into sadness. “There must be something else we can do.” All I had to do was find a way out of an arranged marriage and break out of the castle without being caught or breaking my neck in the process.

  I pushed off the wall, regaining my composure. “Go now. Whatever happens, let me handle it. This is too much for the both of us now. I want you to live and be happy somewhere safe. I don’t need you to save me anymore.”

  It all seemed well and good. As far as the lies I told myself went, it wasn’t half bad.

  I backed away, fighting against every urge to give into…whatever this was. After several heartbeats of silence, I finally turned away. A whistle instantly turned me back to see Fray, smiling.

  He moved his hands slowly, carefully so that I did not miss a word. Tell me, he signed. His unsteady breaths filled the space between us. Tell me that you love me, too.

  I drew in a breath sharply.

  Fray licked his lips, unsure of himself. After a few beats, he squared his shoulders and drew his brows together. Do you think you could love me the way I love you?

  I managed only a nod, but it was enough for the both of us. We closed the small distance between us. My hands drifted to his neck and his own returned to my waist. We could be together, whether the world crumbled around us. We could stay like this. This would be enough.

  I needed to believe that, and I needed him to do the same. I closed my eyes and prayed to whatever gods were listening to never let this feeling get away. So, when I heard the words spoken into my ear like a whisper, I thought I was dreaming.

  “Let me save you, Izzy.”

  Slowly, I opened my eyes. I looked past Fray first, trying to determine who had spoken and which way I could run, but a gentle hand demanded I turn back to Fray. I looked into his wide blue eyes and without a word spoken on my end, he answered all my questions in one simple gesture.

  He tapped the side of his nose. “One last time.”

  Chapter 33

  I placed both hands on Fray’s face, drawing him closer. “Say that again.” I tried to suck in a deep breath, but only a weak gasp escaped my throat. My entire body was trembling. “Speak again.”

  Oh, gods, it worked.

  He led me away, kissing my neck as he pushed me through a door. I sighed between words. Speak again. Speak again.

  After five or six times of Fray repeating it, I decided that it wasn’t a dream. His voice was thick and as gorgeous as the man it belonged to. Each word sent a shudder through my body. In all my years, I had never heard my name spoken like that.

  I lost it. A laugh bubbled out of me. My mind wasn’t working right. This had to be a dream.

  The door closed, blocking us from the world outside. We were in the catacombs. Maybe the infirmary. Fray took my hand. Safely within one of the empty rooms, he pressed his lips to mine again and, without breaking the kiss, kicked the door shut behind us.

  I wasn’t sure how long we were like that, together, when I gently pushed him away. “You get your voice back and this is what you want to do? Tell me this was worth it, you complete and utter fool!”

  “Walking to my possible death, for you?” Fray said, his voice deep and quavering. He lifted one shoulder. “At least if I die tonight, my last moments were well spent.”

  He leaned in to kiss me again, but I shoved him away. I threw my arms up in the air. “I cannot believe it worked. I mean, Fray, your voice is magnificent.”

  He smiled and looked away. Oh, what a smile. I should kiss him again. It wouldn’t be such a hardship. I cursed, wordlessly asking myself if I’d lost my mind somewhere
at the bottom of that cup of ale.

  I gripped the fabric of my stupid dress and looked at Fray. “You shouldn’t be here. This was an accident. I shouldn’t—”

  “Finding you that night in the woods was an accident,” Fray said, cutting me off. “Me, being here, this is on purpose, Isabelle.”

  “So, you can fight them now, right?” I asked, weighing my words. I ran my hands down my face, sorting out the shock and relief. “Everything is going to be all right? Can you…”

  “Change?” he finished, looking away. “Yeah, I can change.”

  His voice was flat, and something ached inside of me.

  “But,” he continued, his words slow and careful. “During my time away, I gathered rumors. Some say that the Gwylis have taken sides with the King of the Peek Islands.”

  I flinched. “But…why would he do such a thing?” Ashe’s father wanted to form an alliance with Mirosa. Not destroy one.

  Fray closed the distance and pulled me into his arms. “It is not hard to believe. Kings are all the same. They want power and will stop at nothing to get it.”

  “I have to go back out there.” The words tripped from my mouth. “I can’t stay here with you.” I pushed away from Fray. “Let me go.”

  “Are you listening to me?” he growled. “They don’t mean to merely kill your family. They mean to overthrow your entire kingdom!”

  I took in Fray’s lips, red and swollen from kissing, and then his eyes, those bright and pleading eyes. What was I doing? I had only just succumbed to becoming a prisoner in my own castle, married to the prince, and doing my best not to completely fall apart. As of less than an hour ago, the life I imagined I could find was gone. Because I was too much of a coward to defy my father.

  His fingers laced into my own. I’d done a dangerous and stupid thing. But he had his voice back. He could speak to me. But did he truly love me? Did I…

 

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