by J. Conrad
I lingered on the edge of the bed, my toes touching the rug. I couldn’t change everything. I couldn’t make Father believe me and I didn’t know how to free my mother from the Fae Realm—yet. But I still had a chance to make things right with Trystan. I had to try.
Despite yesterday’s heartbreak, a warmth came over me that propelled me out of bed. I pulled on my outdoor clothes and rushed outside to tend to the animals. After finishing at the stables, I darted up to my room. I cleaned up and washed my hair. I would let it dry as best it could during my chores throughout the day. As the sun was breaking over the horizon, I put on my corset and petticoat. I wriggled into the golden dress, straining to tie the laces in back. Taking a deep breath, I stepped up to the full-length mirror.
Golden fabric cascaded down from the tight bodice in waves of shimmering flax. The additional layer gave the dress formal fullness, and the new lace and trimmings completed the elegant style. Turning around and inspecting the gown from all angles, everything seemed just right. I couldn’t see any stitches and it fit perfectly. Smiling to myself in the waxing daylight, this wondrous gift gave me the strength to keep going. I undid the laces, tugged the dress off, and hung it inside the wardrobe, shutting the door to conceal it.
I cooked breakfast for my tormentors. Afterwards, I went out to the winter garden to pick a few things for lunch and dinner. Listening to the crisp snap of leeks as I pulled them from the ground, I swore I heard faint voices coming from the front of the house. One of the speakers might have been Gwyneth, but the mumbling was lost in the wind. I set down my basket and slowly crept to the corner of Blaenwood. I leaned against it, straining to pick up the conversation.
“I have nothing left, Mabon. The last payment I made to The Lady took everything I had, and it left us close to starving. My husband shall send another bag of gold pieces in a month, and I must retain a portion for myself and my daughters. I’m no longer certain that keeping the girl is worth the price. Such a high value placed on such weak blood,” Gwyneth said in a low tone.
A man answered in a strained, crackly voice, as though he were sick or aging. “Fae blood of any kind is scarce these days. You’d do well to keep a better eye on her if she’s to last until midsummer,” a man said.
“I tried that, but we have no one else to attend to Blaenwood. Besides, I’ve found her before. Now that I have a scrying stone, retrieving her will be all the easier should she run off again,” Gwyneth said.
“I’ll let The Lady know you’re unable to make another payment at this time. She may be lenient, due to your situation, but I can’t guarantee anything. Next month, however, things may be different,” Mabon said.
Gwyneth paused, and for a moment I only heard the air rattling through dry leaves. “Understood.”
The gravel in the lane crunched under booted feet, and I crept back to the garden. It might have been the man walking away, but I didn’t want them to catch me eavesdropping. What had she said—now that she had a scrying stone? I thought of the river stone and how I had briefly seen Trystan’s face inside it. Was that the same stone? I patted my gown outside the inner pocket, realizing I had left the river stone in my room when I changed to try on the ball gown. I had allowed my excitement to make me careless.
Lightheaded from my shallow breathing, I stooped down and picked up the basket. If only I would have heard this conversation sooner. Then I wouldn’t have wondered if Father was dead. I wouldn’t have sent a letter and he wouldn’t have responded that I was a liar. Well, too late. But at least I understood where our money was going. Gwyneth was paying someone for the privilege of keeping me for herself.
The Lady, I thought, as I walked inside with the vegetables. I remembered the title from the day the Calek attacked us on the road. The Lady wants her alive, one of the hooded men had said of my mother. This lady must be someone important and I’d need to find out more about her role in their society.
Before doing my kitchen duties, I ran upstairs to check my room. The river stone was gone. Whether it was truly in Gwyneth’s possession or elsewhere, I hadn’t time to look for it now. Funny—she had a means to track me now, but for once I didn’t plan on running. Pushing this from mind enough to concentrate on getting my work done, I prepped the leeks, herbs, and a rooster for lunch and washed all the dishes. I stocked all the fireplaces and lit the logs. I washed the dreaded draperies and hung them to dry in the back hallway across two coat racks. This way they wouldn’t freeze outside and had some chance of drying from the ambient heat of our several hearths.
I put on Father’s thick coat and gloves to tackle the rug outside. Not only was it frozen, but it no longer had any bend, which would make moving it even more challenging. Bits of leaves and dirt had stuck to it since last evening and were embedded in its crust of frost. Could I even consider that it was clean now? Testing the thickness of the ice with my boot, I clenched my jaw. Gwyneth had given me this springtime chore in winter on purpose, but I couldn’t let that stop me—not when I had been given a beautiful gown sewn by enchanted animals. I wouldn’t blow my last chance at happiness. Not because of Gwyneth and a frozen rug.
Instead of possibly throwing my back out, I rolled the rug into the yard away from the portico. I stacked firewood nearby so that I would have a heat source. I coaxed a fire to life and fed it, adding straw and twigs to get it going. Pushing downward on the rug with my hands, I felt it give. Gradually it was thawing. After about an hour of nursing the fire, ensuring that it didn’t get too large while maintaining a steady heat, the rug was no longer frozen. I spread the logs to let the fire die down.
Carrying the rug to the fence, I unrolled it and slung it over the topmost wooden rail. I got a bucket of warm, soapy water and spot cleaned it. All that was left was to allow most of the water to drip off, then I could bring it inside and lay it near the fireplace.
I was about to sit down on the overturned bucket and wait, when I felt something cold and wet on my face. Looking up at the shale grey sky, I watched as snowflakes had begun to fall. Snowflakes, big, soggy, and abundant, fluttering down to earth like crystalline moths on a gentle breeze. As though I didn’t have enough barriers, now it was snowing all over the wet rug I was trying to dry outside in the middle of winter.
“Elin,” said a girl’s voice behind me. I jumped so hard I nearly fell off the bucket. I turned to see Dafina standing there in her heavy, black, fur cloak.
“Yes,” I said. “Do you need me?” I tried forcing a smile but didn’t manage it.
Dafina shook her head, regarding me, the smoldering bonfire in the yard, and my odd little project. “I was wondering… Do you need some help bringing the rug inside? It’s beginning to snow.”
I blinked, the furrows in my brow deepening. We hadn’t spoken much since the day of my return. Her words had been strangely kind that day. “Why would you help me?”
My stepsister tilted her head. “I believe I once asked you that same question. I think you said…” She lifted her lower eyelids and glanced skyward as she recalled. “…something about it being the right thing to do.” She raised an eyebrow at me and almost grinned. Restraining it, she pursed her lips instead.
Wow. Miracles happen. I stood up on shaky knees, smiling after all. “Dafina, that would be wonderful. If we roll it up, we can each take an end.”
Dafina nodded. “All right. I’m not very strong, but I’ll try.”
“That’s all I could ask of anyone,” I said.
Before rolling up the rug, I opened the back door and propped it open with a wedge in case the wind tried to blow it shut. We each took a side and with Dafina’s help, carrying the rug was remarkably easy. After spreading it out on the kitchen table, I added a few more logs to the hearth nearby.
“Dafina, thank you so much for your help. I’m grateful,” I said, keeping my voice low.
“You’re welcome, Elin,” she said. My stepsister gave a cursory glance behind her into the empty hallway. “I think it best that you don’t mention this. I must g
et back now.” She frowned slightly, keeping her dark eyes still.
“Of course.” I nodded. With the faintest of twinkles, Dafina turned and departed, her black cloak sweeping out behind her.
I made it through the rest of the day, considering myself lucky that I had seen my stepmother only at meals. She hadn’t bothered to threaten me or drop an insult every few minutes. Only her brooding, jade green eyes betrayed her hatred of me. That was fine, as long as she kept it there.
After dinner, I felt free. The soreness in my body seemed diminished as I trudged up the stairs with the final pail of hot water needed for my bath. I poured it into the small, wooden tub, and stripped down, tossing my filthy clothes into a pile. I scrubbed myself with soap, dried with a clean towel, and soon sat at my dressing table in my petticoat. I arranged my hair into a neat bun, leaving a few strands near my forehead to hang down. I tightened and tied my corset and got into the golden ball gown, securing the laces in back. That was all I had time for and it would have to do. I was needed downstairs to help my stepsisters get ready for the ball as well.
“It’s about time you showed up,” Annest said. “We can’t do all of this ourselves.” She was standing in front of her full-length mirror in her underthings, with an array of cosmetics, powders and hair ribbons set out on her dressing table. Her eyes roved across my gown and she wrinkled her lips in disgust. My desire to throttle her might have been greater if I hadn’t been so close to my goal.
Dafina was sitting on her sister’s bed, looking down at the floor where several pairs of court shoes seemed to be up for debate. She didn’t acknowledge my arrival, and I wondered if it was because she didn’t want to be too nice to me in front of her sister.
I helped the girls into their corsets and dresses and arranged their hair. I even helped them with their makeup, whereas I would have to go to the royal ball bare-faced because I didn’t have enough time. I held my tongue and tried to shrug it off. Trystan had seen me looking much worse. At least I’d managed to get a bath in.
I left my stepsisters and waited in the entrance hall for Gwyneth to announce our departure. Sitting on one of the divans near the front door, I saw the hired carriage drawn by two black horses pull up outside. My stepmother appeared a moment later, dressed in a deep blue gown with her blonde hair curled in perfect ringlets. Lavender filled the hall, strong and pungent. Gwyneth’s enchanted, black fan of pain and paralysis dangled at her hip against the formal dress.
“And just where might you be off to?” she asked.
My face flushed red, my breathing quickening. I wasn’t surprised, only disappointed. “You told me that if I finished all my regular chores, and the additional chores you gave me, that I could ride with you to the ball. I have done so.”
“You haven’t finished them. Neither the draperies nor the rug are dry. And wearing that last-century museum piece you think is a gown? I can’t be seen with you at King Odswin’s court.”
I balled my hands into fists, feeling my fingernails digging into the flesh of my palms. With a quick movement I stood up from the divan, glaring at her. “Of course, the draperies and rug aren’t dry yet. It’s the dead of winter.”
Gwyneth smiled, not her brilliant, toothy, gleaming one, but the other smile. A tiny upturn of the corners of her mouth, right before she planned on reducing me to apathy. “You should have dried them outside with a fire.”
“I tried. It started snowing.” My arms were shaking.
“Well,” she said, batting her eyes and raising her chin. “That isn’t my problem, now is it?”
“Mother.” Dafina’s voice seemed to materialize in the airy entryway. I heard my heart pounding in the silence while I waited for her to speak. “Elin completed her chores as you asked. Let’s go now. I don’t want to be late over a servant girl.”
My mouth fell open. The last sentence sounded condescending, but I knew that Dafina was trying to help. I just couldn’t believe she had done it in front of her mother and sister.
Gwyneth whirled to face her daughter. “You think I don’t know that you helped her?” She slapped Dafina across the face, the sound resonating crisply in my ears.
Dafina gulped a breath, stumbling back and putting a hand to her reddening cheek. “Mother! I haven’t done anything wrong. I—”
“Shut up! Go wait for us in the carriage,” Gwyneth said. Her pale face powder made her hard scowl look even colder.
“But Mother, I—”
“Now!” Gwyneth said. Dafina put her head down, trying in vain to keep her face from contorting in an ugly sob. She knew that tears would result in ruined makeup. Bustling out the heavy, oak door, she didn’t bother to push it closed all the way.
My stepmother’s eyes alighted on me and my stomach folded in on itself. “You weren’t allowed to have help with your chores. You’re our servant, you worthless girl. Annest, help me rid Elin of this tragedy she’s wearing.”
I started to back away, but my legs only bumped into the divan. I tried to turn, readying myself to run as fast and as far away as I could, but as soon as Gwyneth’s fingers touched the fan I knew it was too late. She mumbled a word under her breath. Glued to the spot where I stood, and unable to move my arms, Gwyneth and Annest dug their fingers into the fabric of my dress. They ripped the new lace from the neckline. They tore it from the sleeves and from the hem. They took hold of the new layer and with Annest grunting, pulled on it together, but it wouldn’t come free.
“Get the scissors,” Gwyneth commanded, and with a smile, her busty daughter did as she was instructed. She handed the shears to her mother, who cut off the new, full layer and flung it on the floor. Gwyneth proceeded to cut off other parts of the gown: both sleeves and everything below the bodice until that’s all that was left. She jammed the scissors between my breasts and cut straight down, until the fabric fell away from my torso and I was standing in nothing but my corset and petticoat.
Gwyneth smiled, her eyes sweeping over me. After all, betraying someone who couldn’t fight back was satisfying. She let go of the scissors. As they clanged loudly against the stone floor, she turned to Annest. “Come, Daughter. The prince awaits.”
I wanted to scream, but my eyes were the only part of my body I was able to move. I blinked, staring straight ahead at nothing, while tears welled up and spilled down my cheeks. I heard my stepmother shutting the heavy door and I felt the brisk current of air. I listened for the lock being turned, and Gwyneth’s laughter preceding the swing of the carriage door. The driver slapped the reins and with a word, the horses’ hooves clipped along the lane which led away from the house. The women were off to the ball, while I stood frozen like a freakish wax statue in my underwear.
I don’t know how much time passed before I could move again. I felt myself falling, and I caught myself with my hands. Amidst the pieces of my ruined gown, I lay down and sobbed, feeling the cold underneath me seep into my bones. I didn’t have another ball gown. So much time had passed that even if I changed into another dress of any kind, getting to the ball in time without a carriage wasn’t realistic. I was going to miss it, and Trystan would think I didn’t care. He would come to believe those hurtful things he said yesterday—really believe them. For good.
Chapter 22
Tap, tap.
I knew that sound. It was like the raven rapping on the glass with her beak. But no animal could help me now, no matter how well-intentioned or enchanted.
Tap, tap, tap, went the sound. This time it was so loud I wondered if the glass would break. My arms felt limp as I pushed myself to a sitting position, squinting through my tears at the window above the divan. It was dark outside, but earlier I had the lit the lanterns near the door. I could just see a raven’s silhouette on the other side of the iron bars.
I wasn’t dressed, but it didn’t matter. No one else was here. Heaving open the door, I stepped out into the night and let the frigid wind graze my wet face.
Rawk! the raven croaked from her window ledge.
“
Is it you, Ren?” I asked, hearing my own scratchy voice as I wrapped my arms around myself.
Yes. You must go quickly, Elin. Go to the barn.
The barn? I asked mentally, but the raven had leapt from the window and flapped off in the direction of the forest.
The easiest, fastest, and warmest way to get to the barn was to go through the house. At the back door, I grabbed my work coat from the hook and lit a lantern to illuminate the path. I wanted to feel hopeful about whatever it was Ren wanted me to see, but I mostly felt numb. My nose started to run, and I wiped it on my sleeve. As I neared the barn, the animals seemed unusually quiet. Was something wrong? I strained to see ahead in the darkness and could make out a faint, green glow from one of the windows. Picking up the pace, I tried not to stumble on the snow-covered ground in my court shoes.
“Who’s there?” I called out. “Ren?” Silence answered me. My heart started hammering as I fumbled with the latch bar with my cold fingers. I swung open the wide door, which squealed on its hinges, and saw where the green light was coming from. My voice trembled, and I gritted my teeth. “Eiriana.”
“Oh Elin, what has that nightmare done to you?” my grandmother said. She rushed over to me with that ethereal, green glow around her, frowning with an open mouth as she inspected me. She was in her human form, a beautiful, older woman with silver hair and bright blue eyes. “I’m so sorry. I tried to come sooner. I tried—”
“You tried to come sooner? You tried?” I asked. “Where have you been? It’s too late now! Look at me.”
“There now, child, you may give me a fair reprimand after the ball. We must get you ready,” Eiriana said in her soft, even voice.
“This is what you do. You do what you want, to whom you want, showing up whenever it pleases you. Well I’ll have you know that I visited my mother in the Fae Realm. And I learned that you put her there as a prisoner! Did you somehow forget to mention that? At least you could’ve held up your end of the bargain. You were supposed to raise me. You were supposed to groom me for the joining and teach me how to use my magic. But you did none of those things. How can you live with yourself?” I said.