by J. Conrad
Yes indeed, he was the prince. Women were clustered around him, batting their eyes, laughing, and tilting their heads coquettishly. Trystan was smiling, gazing at them with one arm bent as a red-headed girl in a saffron gown placed her hand upon it. Was he enjoying himself? Did he like getting attention from so many women? I couldn’t tell, I only knew I wanted to bolt out of there, the way our mare had once bolted when a long-tailed weasel dropped onto her back from a tree.
As I turned to the left, determined to linger near the wall until I figured out how to proceed, Trystan saw me. I froze.
“Who is she?” asked someone else, a woman this time. The girls doting on the prince shifted their gaze in my direction. Trystan’s expression had become blank. His smile fell away, and his lips parted as he dropped his arm to his side. Surely, he must have recognized me. He wasn’t used to seeing me so clean, although Eiriana’s magical gown must have been causing a profound effect as well.
I wanted to say hello, but my tongue was made of lead. Every eye in the room had found me. I felt paralyzed. Like a shadow, a woman slipped in beside me and took my hand. I turned just in time to see someone about Eiriana’s age. She had a similar hair color, though darker, greyer than silver, and her eyes were green instead of blue.
Before I could protest, the woman gave a slight bow, and still holding my hand said, “Your Highness, may I humbly introduce the Lady Elin of Blaenwood. She has journeyed from her family’s home in Rhedyn Town.” The woman whispered to me, without moving her mouth, “Bow.” I gave a low curtsy, the way my mother had taught me for formal affairs.
Prince Tarian’s throat sounded dry as he tried to speak. “I would be delighted, Lady Lysidia.”
Seeming to take the cue, the girls at the prince’s side receded into the background. Lysidia placed a hand behind my back, guiding me forward, and dropped it when I started walking. She stayed beside me until I was standing face to face with Trystan. Here he was, a wolf in his human form, and besides Lysidia, I was probably the only one here who knew that. The Fae woman nodded to the prince respectfully and stepped away, going to stand with the other attendees at the outer edge of the dance floor. I realized the musicians had stopped playing. How long had the silence filled my ears?
“Lady Elin, would you care to dance?” Prince Tarian asked.
“It would be an honor, Your Highness,” I said.
Amidst murmurs from the crowd, the musicians began to play a lively waltz. Trystan bent his arm and I took it as I was supposed to do, allowing him to lead me to the middle of the floor. No one else had followed us. The empty space made me feel naked and vulnerable. Trystan stopped in the middle of the room and turned to his many attentive guests.
“Please join us,” he said.
I watched as the attendees smiled, looking to one another and partnering up. They trickled onto the dance floor in pairs. Trystan faced me, drawing me closer to him. I placed my left hand on his shoulder, while he took my right hand, placing his own behind my upper back. My feet followed his motions as though I had learned to waltz at birth, yet I had never done this, or any dance, before. Eiriana’s glass slippers were true to her word.
With couples moving around us on all sides, I felt safer. We were in the center of the room, and even if Gwyneth did see me there was nothing she could do as I was the one dancing with the prince. My heart pounded as I thought of Trystan’s words yesterday.
“Elin,” Trystan said, his orange eyes soft. “So, it’s true. You’re truly the one.”
“Yes,” I said, grateful that he didn’t seem angry now. “I’m the one. Believe me, I was as shocked as you must have been.”
“How long have you known?” he asked.
“Less than a fortnight. Eiriana speaks in riddles and doesn’t tell me much. I only understood when I spoke to your mother.”
Trystan removed his hand from my back, twirling me. He brought me around and we danced close together as before. “After our meeting last evening, I prayed that your words were true. That I was wrong. This morning, I entered the spirit world and called upon my ancestors for guidance. They’ve never led me astray. And after speaking with the ancient Draugosero, I knew that even then I had no proof, only my faith, and the hope that the balancing forces of Edim would bring us together somehow—because it’s right and good, but also because it’s what I’ve always wanted. And I prayed that it’s what you truly wanted too.” He frowned, his orange eyes staring into mine. He squeezed my hand.
“It is, Your High—”
“Please don’t call me that,” Trystan said.
I smiled, realizing it was the first time I had done so since entering the ball room. “You’ve never left my thoughts since our time together in the forest.”
“Yes, I know that now,” he said.
“What changed?” I asked, remembering his icy words before he had ridden off.
“While I was in the spirit world, I did consult my ancestors. But just before I departed, a falcon came to me who called himself Cirros. He asked my name, and once I’d given it, he delivered your message to me.” Trystan pulled me closer and his hand felt warmer against my back.
A feeling bloomed in my chest, a memory surfacing from a time that seemed like years ago. It wasn’t nearly so long, but I had all but forgotten the falcon who had come to me during my dreary time in the attic. Cirros had succeeded. He had told Trystan that I loved him, and I was sorry.
“He told you,” I thought out loud.
“Yes, Elin. He told me of other things, such as the Calek replacement mother who made you a prisoner—of her cruel treatment, and for that she’ll pay. But you were right about something else too. Lysidia and Eiriana are the same person. The green-eyed woman,” he said, giving an almost imperceptible tilt of his head in her direction, “and your grandmother are one.”
I grinned, tightening my grip on Trystan’s hand. “It seems Cirros not only delivered my message but found his way to my grandmother in the Fae Realm.”
“Yes,” he said. His eyes danced as he brought his cheek close to mine. The tempo of the music had changed to a slower melody. “Elin, there is much formality and ceremony we must endure before we’ll truly be together. But I’ll tell you this. You’re not going back to that foul place, not so long as the Calek is there. I’ll arrange for you to stay elsewhere until we’re married.”
I sighed, feeling like a weight had been lifted. “Thank you, Trystan. I was wondering what I was going to do. Eiriana said that at the stroke of midnight the spell she cast for me will be broken. This dress I’m wearing, the shoes on my feet, the carriage in which I arrived: all of it’s by magic. When my grandmother found me tonight, it was after Gwyneth and her daughter had torn my other gown to shreds. Eiriana used her Fae powers to make me worthy to come here.”
Beneath my hand I felt Trystan stiffen. “It matters not to me what happens at midnight, Elin. And you were worthy in trousers, with dirt on your face, the day we met in the woods. I won’t allow you to go home and place your life in danger again, not while there is still breath in me. Especially not now that we’re finally together. I have you, and I won’t give you up.” He smiled, but the fire in his orange eyes betrayed his anger, not at me, but at Gwyneth and the idea that I could still be taken from him.
“As you wish. But where will I go? What if Gwyneth comes for me? She’s here somewhere, she and her two daughters. I have a disguise charm, but I haven’t—”
“If you see her, show her to me. I’ll have her banished from the kingdom,” Prince Tarian said.
I paused. “But she’s a Calek. She’s unpredictable, vindictive. Her power can be terrifying.”
“As can my own. She has no say here. And as I’ve recently completed the Damsing Ritual, being in human form won’t be a hindrance to using my rage should she try something. She’ll sincerely regret coming to Hennion Castle.”
A violin screeched behind us and with a final flute note hanging in the air awkwardly, the musicians stopped playing. The skirts w
hich pinwheeled around us swished to a halt as the dancers broke their rhythm. Keeping my hand in his, Trystan pivoted.
King Odswin strode up to us in a gold embroidered, flax-colored tunic, a small, golden coronet around his brow. Younger than my father, his dark hair was still more brown than grey. He smiled as he neared us, lines springing up at the corners of his eyes. With a nervous fluttering in my heart, something I’d been experiencing all night, I straightened my back. I hadn’t really been slouching and wondered if this posture change was due to Eiriana’s magic heels. I had never been this close to the king before. It was unsettling.
Trystan and I bowed deeply as his father came to stand before us. “Father,” he said, followed by my, “Your Majesty.” I kept my eyes down as my mother had told me to do in the presence of royalty. The slippers kept me from twitching when King Odswin’s voice startled me. “Son, you must introduce me to the extraordinary woman with whom you’ve been dancing.”
Before Trystan could do so, the king waved his hand and the musicians began playing a lively tune. Taking the hint, the guests resumed dancing around the three of us in the middle of room. My face flushed with crimson. I suddenly felt hot.
“Father, this is Elin Kendrick of Blaenwood in Rhedyn Town,” Trystan said, and was about to say more, but closed his mouth again. He leaned in toward the king’s ear. “This is the girl I choose to marry.”
King Odswin blinked rapidly, a subtlety probably only visible to Trystan and me. He smiled warmly without showing his teeth. “I thank you for attending, Lady Elin. If Blaenwood is your house, then I believe I may know your father. A good man. How is he?”
My stomach swooped. Except for thinking his only daughter was a manipulative liar, he was apparently fine. “He’s been in Tinsford on business since the fall. I’m praying for his swift return.”
King Odswin nodded. In a muted voice, he said to Trystan, “Son, you’ve been introduced to but a few maidens of the hundreds who’ve arrived. Let me dance with the lady while you continue to mingle with your guests.”
“Very well, Father, but Elin is my choice. She’s the one. I’m aware that I cannot make such announcement today, but nonetheless, I will have no other.” Trystan’s orange eyes remained steady. He still hadn’t let go of my hand.
“As you wish,” King Odswin said.
I let out the breath I didn’t know I had been holding. Whatever else happened between now and then, Trystan had stated his intentions to the king and he had consented. I swallowed, a small voice in the back of my mind wanting to thank him.
“Elin,” Prince Tarian said, keeping his body facing the king. “Do come find me after your dance. As I’ve said, I’ll make arrangements for your safe lodging.”
“Yes, Your Highness,” I said. I stifled a smile. He had told me not to call him that, but in front of King Odswin I had no choice.
Trystan slowly released me and with my heart pounding like a war drum, I took the king’s hand and we began stepping to the ballad. At my left, I noticed Trystan taking up with a slim brunette in an indigo gown. Dafina. Our eyes met, and I smiled. As she glanced up at Trystan, I heard her say, “Who is the fine lady in the blue gown?” They had moved too far away for me to hear his reply. The corsage Eiriana had given me was working. Something told me she had also done more than “put a little color in my cheeks.” Since he didn’t know who Dafina was, I wondered if Trystan was telling her my name, or if he would give her a vague answer.
“Are you so far away, milady?” King Odswin asked. My eyes must have glazed over, I had become so immersed in thought.
“Forgive me, Your Majesty. I’m not accustomed to being around so many people,” I said. It was true enough. As we moved in time to the music, I waded through the king’s questions: what did I think of Hennion Castle, how was the journey here through the snow, had I traveled alone or with members of my family? Was my mother living?
“My mother was taken from us when I was a little girl,” I said.
“That’s a shame,” King Odswin said. “Tell me, has your father remarried? It’s been some years since I saw him in the town of Nantglas, during the fall festival.”
“He did. He married the window Gwyneth Urien, who has two daughters near my own age.”
King Odswin frowned. “I don’t know the name. I assume she is of good family?”
“I am told so, sire. Though I’ve never met them,” I said.
The king laughed. “A woman with a sense of humor. Young Tarian needs laughter in his life. So serious, always thinking of the next task at hand and nothing else.”
I smiled. I wasn’t trying to funny—I was just too nervous to put words together well. “I do my best, Your Majesty.”
The ballad ended and to my great relief, the king released me. I smiled too widely, but I couldn’t help it. Curtsying to the monarch, I thanked him. Couples on the floor parted to let him through, bowing as he passed. I scanned the crowd for Trystan, but froze, finding Gwyneth instead.
About twenty feet away on the other side of the dancers, Gwyneth stood alone. She stared down at something in her right hand. Her gaze intent, her body motionless in her long, midnight blue gown, my stepmother frowned. What was that in her hand? It was hard to tell from here, but it looked smooth and whitish, and seemed to take up most of her palm.
The river stone. Gwyneth’s frown deepened as she slowly raised her head until her eyes found me and held. Did she really see me, or did she see a nameless girl in a sparkling blue dress? Her eyes burned into me, like she was the hunter and I was the prey. She parted her lips as if to speak. Her wide eyes blinked once before she looked down again, searching the river stone for… I didn’t know what. My identity?
With her head still slightly bent, eyes on the object in her hand, Gwyneth started slowly walking my way. My legs quivered beneath me, begging me to run. I interlaced my fingers and didn’t move. I stared at her, daring her to do whatever it was she planned. She would have to do it in front of everyone: the monarch, hundreds of guests, and Prince Tarian, who would probably do to her what she had done to my golden ball gown.
Only a few feet from me, Gwyneth stopped. She squinted at my face, her eyebrows pinching in puzzlement, glanced back down, then back to me again. With her so close, I could tell that yes, it was indeed the river stone she held. If it could scry, I wondered what it was showing her.
“Are you looking for someone, Stepmother?” I asked. It wasn’t the safe thing to say, especially after I had planned on being invisible to her all night. The weariness in my limbs reminded me that I had grown so tired of being afraid of her.
“You,” she said, narrowing her eyes at me. She glanced about nervously. She knew she couldn’t do whatever she wanted here.
I jumped as something brushed against my right side. I heard Trystan’s voice and felt him next to me. “Is this the replacement mother?”
“Yes, Prince Tarian. And I’m sorry to report she has taken something which belongs to me,” I said.
Trystan stepped forward, dwarfing Gwyneth as he towered over her. As her mouth snapped open like a fish’s, he extended his hand, palm up. “Whatever you’re going to say, spare yourself the trouble. Give it here.”
My stepmother snapped her mouth shut. She placed the stone upon Trystan’s palm with a trembling hand. I had never seen her afraid before. Her face was hard, but the fear was there. Trystan’s eyes softened as his gaze met mine briefly, handing me the river stone before he glared at Gwyneth again.
“Elin won’t be returning to Blaenwood this evening—not this evening, or any succeeding. I’ve arranged for her safe lodging here at Hennion Castle, where she will remain until our marriage and forever after,” Trystan said.
“Yes, Your Highness.” Gwyneth bowed politely. She looked up with that familiar radiance in her face, the charm that had snared my father as easily as a mouse in a trap. “But I’m afraid there must be some mistake. This young lady isn’t the person she appears to be.”
“She is exactly wh
o she appears to be,” Prince Tarian snapped. His voice boomed over the violin. “She is the girl you locked in the attic. The girl you starved. The one you tortured and nearly worked to death. She is the very same girl I saw yesterday, with dirt on her face, toiling in the yard outside your home. I have no confusion about who she is, but I have every doubt as to who you are.”
The silence around us was broken by faint, scattered murmuring. King Odswin looked on but said nothing. Trystan’s fists were clenched, his arms shaking as he gritted his teeth.
Gwyneth swallowed. The vibrant glow had fled her face, replaced by the pallor of the white powder she wore. “I beg your pardon, Your Highness.” She bowed and began to back away.
“No,” Prince Tarian said. He reached out and grabbed her arm. Gwyneth’s gasp was echoed by that of the guests. King Odswin frowned, placing his hands on his hips, but he made no motion to stop his son. Trystan told her, “For what you’ve done, I’m banishing you from the kingdom. You have one week to leave Blaenwood. If you remain by that time, I will send a party for your removal.”
Fluttering her eyes, Gwyneth placed her hand on her heart. “But Your Highness, what of my husband? What shall I tell him?”
I sighed. Right in front of me, she hadn’t bothered resorting to the lie that my father was dead—that she would have nowhere to go. I guess saying she had a husband made her feel safer.
“That isn’t my concern. Your husband may go with you or remain at Blaenwood as he sees fit. Now take leave of us,” Trystan said.
The hushed murmuring from the crowd continued as Gwyneth nodded. Prince Tarian finally released her arm. She drew it away gingerly, as though it pained her. With a bow, Gwyneth turned and fled. Her bustle bobbed as she reached the stairs and clutched the railing. I saw Annest’s blonde curls as she rushed after her mother.