by E. A. James
It wasn’t hard to figure out where Huen’s parents lived. They had a grand home, just outside of the castle. It was practically as luxurious as the castle itself, and Aine stared at the front door for a long time before wondering whether or not she should actually knock. But after a few moments, her curiosity grew and she knew she couldn’t leave without at least asking.
The door was opened by a plain woman in an apron with dark hair. Huen must take after his father, Aine thought. I never would have expected his mother to look like this!
“Have you seen Huen?” Aine asked, trying to make herself look tall and important. She was still wearing her tattered dress, and the woman eyed her with obvious disdain.
“I have not, miss,” the woman replied curtly. “Shall I fetch his mother?”
Oh, I’m such a fool, of course, a family like Huen’s would have servants, Aine realized, flushing hotly.
“Yes, please,” Aine said, biting her lip. “Thank you,” she added.
The woman sighed as if she couldn’t believe that she was being inconvenienced by a peasant like Aine. No wonder Huen is so arrogant, Aine thought as the door slammed in her face. If he’s been around people like this his whole life, it’s a surprise he has the ability to be kind at all!
Aine pressed her ear to the door and listened. She heard an angry, shrill voice followed by a loud flutter of footsteps. Just as she yanked her head back, the door flew open. A beautiful woman in long emerald silk robes stared at Aine.
“Are you the reason my son has been missing?” The woman asked, glaring sharply. “Tell me, wench!”
Aine trembled. “I cannot answer that, ma’am,” she said, lowering her eyes in respect. “But I was with Huen the previous night…we were at the castle, and something happened.”
The woman’s face went white. “You must tell me exactly what happened. Now, wench!” She demanded loudly.
Aine cleared her throat. “I do not know, ma’am,” she said, trying to keep her voice low and respectful. “There was a mob. Huen and I were separated, and I have heard nothing from him since.”
The woman’s expression softened. “I am Deratha,” she said. “Huen’s mother. Come inside, please.”
Deratha stepped back, allowing Aine inside. Aine looked around in wonder, staring at the shiny, polished marble floor and beautiful dark wooden furniture that filled the interior of the house. In a way, it was even lovelier than the castle. Aine could tell that someone had put a lot of thought and effort into designing the home, and she suddenly felt a pang of sadness that she would never be able to do the same for Aine.
Deratha led Aine past the marvelous foyer and into the kitchen, which was significantly plainer. She gestured for Aine to sit at a simple wooden table.
“Tell me everything, child,” Deratha said. She rolled her eyes. “I knew my son was getting into trouble, but I had no idea he was carousing with peasants!”
Aine flushed. “I found him, outside of my parents’ home. He was badly injured, his wrist was broken. I took care of him until he healed.”
“And then?” Deratha raised an eyebrow. “Child, come now, speak freely with me! I won’t harm you,” she added. “I am annoyed, but that is my constant state when dealing with that disrespectful child.”
Aine nodded. “He left. And then I found him again. He’d been stabbed in the chest – he was fighting in the arena, which is close to my home – and I took care of him until he was strong enough to leave.” Suddenly, Aine remembered Huen’s secret ambition of becoming a scholar. Based on the frustrated way Deratha was acting, Aine knew it wouldn’t be wise to tell the truth.
“And then?” Deratha’s eyes flashed with anger. “Tell me!”
“He took me to the castle…he, um, wanted me to meet Aerdan,” Aine said. “I mean, the Commander. Huen wanted me to meet the Commander. And something happened,” she said quickly, flushing at her lie of omission. “I am still not sure. There was a mob, and it pulled us from each other. I have been worried about Huen – he was still injured.”
Deratha stared at Aine for what felt like a lifetime.
“So, you do not know anything else about the whereabouts of my son?”
Aine shook her head. “No, ma’am,” she said. “I do not, I am sorry. I was hoping he was here.”
Deratha sighed. “As you can see, he is not, and I am frantic with worry,” she said. She narrowed her eyes and leaned in close. “Child…he has not made you…any kind of promise, has he? Are you in the family way?”
Aine flushed and shook her head, embarrassed. “Huen has promised me nothing.”
As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Aine realized how profoundly sad they were.
Deratha nodded. “I see,” she said. “Thank you for telling me,” she said.
Aine stared. If Deratha had known that she was lying, she didn’t mention it. Instead, the older woman showed Aine out of the house and shut the door before Aine was even finished walking down the small path. Aine frowned. If nothing was wrong, why hadn’t Huen come for her?
Suddenly, she knew. He’s sick of me, she realized as she stared at the castle. Unlike the day before, it seemed peaceful and normal. Aine could see the Glasulian warships in the harbor, but the sight of them didn’t fill her with fear. Instead, she almost wished that she could board one and sail away. Maybe in my own land, I wouldn’t be so unhappy, she thought. Maybe, I’d be accepted and loved for who I am.
Aine’s heart twisted and she turned away from the castle, beginning the long walk home. Of course, Huen didn’t care for her. He was a rake – hadn’t his mother said as much? She’d implied that Aine had only come due to some stupid false promise Huen had made in the heat of the moment. Tears came to her eyes as she wondered how many times this same situation had happened before. Aine’s heart twisted in her chest. Why would Huen even bother with a peasant girl, now that he had what he wanted: full access to all of the libraries in the castle, and a healed wound?
Aine sniffled. She reached up and wiped a tear from her cheek, determined to stop crying before she made it home. She didn’t want Mie to know where she had been.
When Aine made it back to her parents’ small home, she washed her hands in the spring and went inside. The sight of Angelica’s dress twisted her heart but she set her lips in a thin line, vowing not to think of it.
“Aine!” Mie said angrily. She stood up from the table and put her hands on her hips. “In the name of the gods, where have you been, stupid girl?”
“I was looking for Huen,” Aine said listlessly, too tired to even bother with a lie.
“Your father came home hours ago,” Mie said. She glared at Aine. “And he said nothing of seeing you. You didn’t even look for him!”
“He was not by the lake, or the tavern,” Aine said. She cocked her head to the side and glared at her mother. “And really, that’s all you care about, isn’t it?”
Mie raised her arm in the air and swung her hand towards Aine’s face, slapping her daughter across the cheek.
“You will not speak to me like that,” Mie said. “I am your mother. I deserve respect, not sass. Do you understand?”
Aine shook her head. “It does not matter,” she said. “Huen won’t be returning.”
“Nor should he,” Mie said. “And you would do better to know your place, child.”
That night, Aine went to bed with an empty stomach. Still, she was not hungry. She knew she should feel better knowing that Huen was, most likely, safe. But she couldn’t make herself care. She was bitter and angry that he’d given her up so easily, just so he could be alone with his books. And making love had obviously meant nothing – gods, Huen had probably been glad when the mob had forced Aine away!
A week passed. It seemed the longest, slowest, dullest week in Aine’s life. She kept her head down and did exactly as Mie asked. She sewed garments for the rich until her fingers were numb, and she even sent Angelica’s dress back to the castle with a Zhekan warrior who was on his way back from a sho
w at the arena. The next day, a bouquet of flowers and a kind note came from Angelica.
But there was nothing from Huen – Angelica’s note didn’t even mention him. Aine ripped the parchment into shreds and threw it on the fire before Mie could see it.
Three days after the note and flowers from Angelica, there was a loud knock at the door.
“Well, answer it, child,” Mie said irritably. “Perhaps it’s your father, in a drunken stupor once more.”
Aine frowned. She wiped her hands on her apron and walked to the door, pulling it open and sighing.
“Aine!” Huen cried. “Gods, I’ve been searching for you!”
Without even thinking about it, Aine slapped him across the face.
Huen stared at her, with wide eyes.
“You deserve much more than that,” Aine spat, pushing the door closed. Huen stuck his foot in the door.
“Aine, please,” Huen said. “Do not do this – I have to explain, something horrible has happened.”
“Yes,” Aine said dryly. “I was ripped from your side during the mob, and then a week passed with no word from you! Everything seems to be fine at the castle, where were you?” Without giving Huen a chance to speak, she continued: “I went to your home, do you know that! Your mother treated me like…like some kind of trollop!” Tears came to Aine’s eyes and she blinked them away.
I can’t cry in front of him, Aine thought desperately. There’s no way I can let him see me like this!
“I am sorry,” Huen said. “For everything, but most especially, for my mother. She is cruel and unfair,” he added. “And I think you can understand why I do my best to avoid going home.”
Aine closed her eyes, leaning against the rough door frame. “I understand,” she said softly. “You have what you want. Your books, your solitude. Why would you need a useless peasant girl hanging around, making your life difficult?”
“That is not true,” Huen thundered. His color rose and Aine was almost pleased with the angry response.
“Then what is true?” Aine countered. She crossed her arms over her chest. “Tell me,” she said, trying to channel the steel backbone of Huen’s mother.
Huen sighed. “Please, come with me,” he said. “I will explain everything.”
“I am not leaving until you tell me now,” Aine said. “Why would I do that – risk angering my parents once again, on some foolish whim of a rich man?”
“Aine, I desperately need your help,” Huen said. He stepped closer and for the first time, Aine could see that he was shaken and startled. “Please, just trust me. I cannot say anything now – pack your things, and come with me.” He gestured behind him, where a magnificent stallion was tethered to a tree.
Aine sighed. She looked over her shoulder, at Mie. Mie wasn’t even paying attention – she was hunched over the table with a scrap of fabric in her hand, cursing under her breath. The sad, empty feeling from earlier swelled inside of her. She knew she had every right to be furious with Huen, but she knew she couldn’t stand a life of emptiness. Now that she’d had her first taste of adventure and magic, Aine wasn’t willing to stop.
Aine nodded. “Give me a moment,” she said. She stepped inside, closing the door.
Mie looked up. “Child, who is that?”
Aine bit the inside of her cheeks to keep from smiling.
“It was Huen,” she said softly. “He needs my help. I’m leaving with him.”
“You cannot!” Mie said. She glared at her daughter. “Now, you come here. My hands are aching – I need you to finish this for me.” She held up a scrap of sewing.
Aine shook her head. “Mother, I am no longer a child,” she said. She crossed the floor and grabbed a small creased linen bag. Inside, Aine placed a hunk of bread, an apple, and some cheese. She had no other clothes but took a scrap of silk to use as a handkerchief.
“If you leave,” Mie said, shaking her hand angrily. “You cannot be sure that I will welcome you back into my home!”
Aine stared at her for a long time before shrugging. “Goodbye, then,” she said softly.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Huen
When Aine came out of her parents’ hut, she was smiling and a warm sense of relief washed over her. “I am ready,” she said.
Huen nodded. He scooped her up in his arms and put her on Vlad’s back before climbing on.
“Hold tightly to me,” Huen said. “Have you ever ridden?”
Aine laughed. “What do you think?”
Huen shrugged. “I thought I would take the precaution of asking,” he said. “You become offended so easily!” Huen dug his heels into Vlad’s sides and the horse took off at a fast canter despite its double load. Aine wrapped her arms around Huen’s waist and clung on so tightly that Huen knew she must be terrified. Still, she did not ask him to go slower. Huen admired that – he’d only taken a few girls on rides with Vlad before, and most of them had been terrified.
But not Aine. She was fearless.
Huen liked that.
They rode faster and faster. Huen took a shortcut through the woods, jumping Vlad over a fallen tree. Aine gasped and grabbed Huen tighter, but Huen grinned. She’s having fun, he realized. Despite the severity of the situation at hand, it was nice to know that fun could still be had…even in the throes of a crisis.
Outside of the castle gates, Huen slowed Vlad to a walk. Huen and Aine dismounted at the castle stables, and Huen passed the reins to a hand.
“So, what has happened?” Aine asked curiously. Her olive skin had darkened from her time in the sun, and tiny freckles appeared on her cheeks. Despite the sad state of her muslin gown, Huen still thought she was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen.
Huen sighed. “Queen Zornaya has come down with illness,” he said. “But no one knows what is the matter. Not even the most skilled sorceresses in Zheka have been able to treat her.”
“You’ve been at the castle?”
Huen nodded. “All week,” he said. He sighed. “Aerdan is taking this horribly, he’s afraid that his mother will die and he’ll have to assume the position of High Commander earlier than expected.”
Aine bit her lip and frowned. “That is dreadful news,” she said softly. She flushed. “Huen, I am very sorry I struck you.”
Huen shrugged. “I deserved it,” he said. “At least, I did before you knew as you do now.”
Aine nodded. For a moment, Huen thought she was going to kiss him. Instead, she kissed her fingers and touched his cheek.
“Better?”
Huen tried his best not to grin. “Yes,” he said stiffly. “Now, come with me.”
When Huen led Aine into the castle, he noticed that it was still and silent. Zornaya had been ill for over a week – she hadn’t been able to get out of bed, and now everyone was saying that she wouldn’t wake up from a long, troubled sleep.
Aerdan met Huen and Aine outside of Zornaya’s chamber.
“Why did you bring her?” Aerdan asked.
“Your mother once said Aine’s healing work was the best she’d ever seen outside of her own,” Huen explained. “And I thought if anyone has a chance of healing the Queen, it is Aine.”
Aine flushed hotly at Huen’s side.
"All right," Aerdan said. He gave a brief nod and the guard at door pushed it open.
Huen led Aine inside Zornaya’s chamber. The Queen was stretched on top of her massive bed, looking peaceful. But as they approached, Huen could see that she was anything but at peace. Her face twitched and shifted, and she was mumbling a stream of nonsense under her breath that Huen couldn’t understand.
“She has been like this for days, now,” Aerdan said quietly to Aine. “There’s something badly wrong with her. The healers have tried everything, but nothing seems to work.”
Huen looked at Aine. “Do you know what is wrong?”
Aine frowned. She bit her lip and stepped closer, twisting her hands in front of her body.
“She is speaking Glasulian,” Aine said softly
. “The ancient language of Glasule.”
Aerdan frowned at her. “How do you know?”
“All natives of Glasule are born with that language, it is imprinted on us from birth,” Aine said. She closed her eyes and stepped closer. “I…I have never had a need for the language.”
“This is bleak, friend,” Huen said to Aerdan, putting his hand on Aerdan’s shoulder.
“She…she is speaking of the future,” Aine said, obviously hesitant. Huen watched as she chewed on her lip.
“Well, what is she saying?” Huen demanded.
“That matters not,” Aerdan said quickly. “We must figure out a way to remove her from this trance.”