“They kept me awake,” I explained. “I’d hidden them beneath the mattress.”
“Next time, hide them beneath your clothes. You must always keep them on you. The wish you were about to speak would not have worked, as the pearls were not touching your skin. Can you see their importance now?”
“Yes.” I nodded. “But shouldn’t Cecilia have a charmed bracelet, too? Surely I cannot be the only one to protect—”
“It would not be safe for Cecilia to have the pearls,” Merry Anne said rather brusquely, ushering me farther down the hall.
“But why? I should think you’d want her able to protect herself.”
“We look after her well enough. The pearls would be more danger to her than help.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Think, Adrielle,” Merry Anne said, without a trace of joviality in her voice. This change in demeanor shook me.
“One only has to utter a wish when the bracelet is in her possession. One wish wrongly spoken, and…”
“But what might Cecilia wish for other than protection?” I asked. “She has all else.”
“So it would seem.” Merry Anne guided me past the portraits and enticing flowers lining the long hall. My mind was spinning, yearning to understand what she was trying to tell me. What might Cecilia wish for? Was she incapable of uttering a wish, of protecting herself, in a time of crisis?
We walked in silence until we reached a grand foyer with a sparkling chandelier overhead.
“I think it best you leave Cecilia for the night. Florence will stay with her. Zipporah will be here shortly to escort you to the kitchen.” Merry Anne turned to go. “Take care these next few days, Adrielle, and remember everything— and everyone— are not always as they appear.”
Florence wore a path on the floor before the table, wringing her hands as she walked. I guessed she was worried— as were the other fairies— about Cecilia being safe during tonight’s ball. I worried, too, and wondered at the king’s decision to hold such an event days before the wedding, when, up until now, so much had been done to protect Cecilia. But invitations had been extended, and tonight the gates had been opened, outsiders allowed in for the first celebration in nearly eighteen years.
Putting Cecilia on display and purposely trying to snare any who would do her harm seemed reckless. Especially when I am not there with the pearls to protect her. But the fairies, King Addison, his guards, and all else in the king’s employ were on alert, hoping to catch Nadamaris or whomever she might have sent.
“Oooh,” Florence muttered. “This isn’t right.” She’d been muttering similar sentiments and acting altogether peculiar since she replaced Merry Anne as my kitchen help a half hour before. Maggie had been given a rare night off.
“What’s not right?” I asked, pulling another pan of croissants from the oven.
“Us. In here. When— when Cecilia—”
“What?" I dropped the pan on the table and turned to Florence. “Has something happened? Is the princess in danger?"
“It isn’t that— exactly.” She paused, considering me. “But it wouldn’t be a bad idea for her to have a bit more protection.”
“Oh.” A tiny bit of the tension I’d been feeling all night eased. “Then you should go to her. I’m fine here by myself.” The evening was winding down, and I had nothing else to make— only tomorrow’s bread, already in the oven. “One cannot have too many fairies watching out on a night like this.”
“No, no, no.” Florence’s pace increased, and she appeared more agitated than ever. “It isn’t me I’m thinking of, but you. You should be there.”
“Me?” I said, taken aback to think I might finally be hearing the plain and simple truth. “I should be there at Cecilia’s side?”
Florence looked at me strangely. “Cristian’s side is more what I had in mind.”
Cristian? Just hearing his name made my knees weak. Then another lightning bolt of realization struck. No one would be looking out for him tonight. In fact, no one looks out for him at all. Yet his life was equally important as Cecilia’s in this whole curse-breaking business. Was I here to protect Cristian as well? Or maybe that had been my job all along; maybe that was the reason I’d been allowed to spend so much time in his company.
Until now. When he might be most at risk.
I closed my eyes briefly, rubbing my temples with one hand. Why me? Does everyone really think me so noble?
“Look at you,” Florence said. “You’re worn out— exhausted.”
She was off by a few emotions. Heartbroken. Despondent— scared. Who knew what I might be called on to do? After the storm and the snakes, I dreaded what else Nadamaris might conceive.
“Go,” Florence insisted. “Right this minute. Off to the ball with you. I’ll finish up here.”
She pointed her garden shears my direction.
I started to protest and ended up choking on a mouthful of fairy dust. I squeezed my eyes shut to keep them from burning while I waited for it to settle.
“There. Perfect,” Florence said. “Don’t you just love it? Hurry now. There isn’t much time."
“I opened my eyes then gasped as I looked down. A long, fitted gown hugged my bodice perfectly then flared at my waist and hung wide and full to the floor. In the kitchen firelight, the fabric shimmered a deep green and gold— the sort of colors I’d often seen when walking through the forest at twilight. I did love it.
“Florence, I…”
“Yes, yes. I know. I can see it in your eyes. There now, don’t cry.” She pressed a daintily-embroidered handkerchief into my hand— a smooth, soft hand now, free of its work-worn cracks and the dough often stuck beneath my nails. I held out both hands, marveling at the complete transformation they’d undergone.
“Hurry,” Florence said again. “They’ve one more waltz to play yet.” Grabbing my arm, she pulled me out the door. I paused a moment, glancing down to admire the satin slippers on my feet. Then Florence was pulling me down the path toward the castle. My hair didn’t stream behind me as it usually did when I ran, and I discovered why, as I reached up to touch it and found I’d a head-full of curls held in place with some sort of jewels.
We continued running the whole way and, breathless, entered the garden beneath the rose trellis. I might have gone faster but for the dainty slippers.
“What am I supposed to do?” I asked, but Florence was suddenly gone.
“I hate it the way you fairies disappear like that,” I whispered, loud enough that if she was still nearby she’d certainly hear. Fine dress aside, I knew I couldn’t set foot in that ballroom. Not only had I never attended a dance— though my mother had done her best to school me in all the proper steps— but I couldn’t bear the thought of seeing Cristian and Cecilia together. He and I had agreed— or I had, anyway— that it was best we not see each other anymore. He had a wedding to prepare for. I had a broken heart to mend and a princess to protect.
And perhaps a prince, too. Can this get any harder?
“Adrielle?” Cristian entered the garden. “I had a thought— almost as if someone whispered it in my ear— that I’d find you out here.”
I held my hands out awkwardly. “And so you have."
“There’s one dance left. Will you?” He seemed a bit awkward as he asked the question.
“Shouldn’t you be dancing with Cecilia?” Against my better judgment, I lifted my eyes to his and saw in them everything I’d been doing my best to avoid— friendship, concern … love?
He reached for my hand. “She already has a partner.”
“I don’t think it’s a good—”
“It’s an excellent idea,” he said, interrupting my protest. He took the handkerchief from my hand and tucked it in his coat pocket. The strains of a waltz began inside, the music wafting out through the open terrace doors. Cristian took my hand in his and put his other arm around my waist, pulling me close. I felt and heard a loud, frantic heartbeat, and I wasn’t sure if it was his or mine— or s
ome mingled combination that belonged to us both.
He turned us around slowly at first, and to my delight I discovered it was easy to follow him. A minute into our dance, I felt as light on my feet dancing as I was when running. Who knew?
My eyes met Cristian’s again, and I forgot all about the steps. I only knew that I was in his arms, it felt so very right, and I wanted to stay this way forever.
“You look lovely tonight,” he said. “Like a pri—”
“Don’t,” I stopped him before he could say it. Though the damage was already done, the word princess having intruded on my temporary, magical world. I was not Cristian’s princess and never would be— no matter how very much I might wish it so.
“I’m sorry.” Cristian looked contrite. “I only meant to tell you that you’re beautiful. That there isn’t a lovelier girl in all of Canelia.”
“Thank you.” We were silent then, enjoying the bliss of these few minutes together. The moonlit garden was ours alone, and with all my heart I willed time to stop and suspend us there. My hand was warm in his, my mind giddy with a lovely sort of light-headedness. When he pulled me even closer at the end of the waltz, I dared to lean against his shoulder and sigh. I’m in love with you, Cristian.
The music faded, and neither of us moved. He reached down, gently tilting my chin up. His eyes were shining, full of happiness and— some secret. The corner of his mouth lifted in a smile, just as voices sounded near the patio doors.
“Quick. Over here.” Cristian grabbed my hand, pulling me back through the rose arbor, out into the yard beyond. Tall hedges rose up on either side of the path, trapping us in plain sight of anyone who followed. My heart beat quickly for an entirely different reason now. What would happen if we were caught together? My worry was for Cristian, though I realized suddenly, all would not be well for me, either.
Cristian stopped suddenly then ducked through a narrow opening in the hedge. I followed, wincing as thorns pulled at my gown, snagging the lovely fabric. I’d worn it less than an hour, and already… ruined. Can’t you be more careful? My mother’s scolding voice rang in my head. I dismissed it quickly, not wanting to spoil what precious few minutes Cristian and I might have together.
The other side of the hedge opened into another garden courtyard, this one long abandoned. We stopped on the far side of it, breathing heavily, Cristian barely containing a laugh as he brushed dried leaves from my hair. I shook my head and tried my best to look severe. We waited in silence, listening as couples meandered past, likely heading toward the heavily guarded bridge and the carriages that would take them home.
“How was the ball?” I finally ventured when all had been silent for several minutes. “Any danger?”
“None at all. It appears Nadamaris did not fall for the king’s plan. No evil was discovered the whole night through.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “Not that I wished you or Cecilia any danger.”
“On the contrary,” Cristian said. “It appears you have done your best to wish us well.”
“I do,” I said, those two words costing me dearly. And who will protect me? Who will protect my heart?
“You are too good for words, Adrielle,” Cristian said, the secretive hint returned to his eye. “But there is something I must tell you.”
“Good bye,” I guessed, not amused at his light manner. He was to wed in four days. There was nothing else to say. “Thank you for the waltz. I shall always remember—”
He pressed a finger to my lips. “This isn’t good-bye.”
To my dismay, my eyes began to water. “Cristian, be serious. You are about to be married.” And I must do all in my power to see that you are. “Our friendship cannot continue as it has.”
“Thank heaven for that,” Cristian said, taking me completely off guard.
“What do you mean?” I said, indignant.
He laughed briefly at my fury; then his look grew quite ardent. “This is what I mean.” He leaned closer.
As I sensed his intentions I stepped back, my pulse racing. “Have you lost something— like your mind?” I whispered, certain to lose mine any second.
“I fear I’ve lost much more than that.” His finger traced my cheek, and my face tingled, the warmth spreading like fire through the rest of my body. I took another step back, and my heel bumped against a tree trunk.
Cristian moved nearer, until his face was treacherously close. I longed to reach out and brush an unruly curl from his brow.
“You’re engaged to the princess,” I reminded him— my last, feeble attempt at being honorable.
His lips curved in his charming smile, making him appear even more handsome than usual. “I know.”
He took my face in his hands and kissed me.
If I died tomorrow— a very real possibility, as these grounds were full of watching eyes, and no doubt someone or something had seen us— I would die heartbroken, but happy. True love’s kiss was a pleasure not enjoyed by many during a much longer lifetime, and here I was experiencing it at the tender age of seventeen.
I tried to summon regret and could not. Instead I leaned forward, returning Cristian’s kiss with all the passion and love in my heart.
A breeze stirred around us, bringing clouds to our haven on an otherwise clear night. Drops of rain spattered on the ancient brick, but the tree mostly sheltered us.
He wrapped his arms around my waist, and my hands clung to his shoulders. His lips were soft and warm. I closed my eyes, sighing deeply with contentment. The fairies were right, I thought, to tell us to be careful of touching.
“Adrielle.” Cristian breathed my name almost reverently. I opened my eyes to find him gazing at me, all traces of his earlier teasing gone. “There is something I must tell you.”
His hands slid from my waist, down my arms to my fingertips, which he squeezed lightly. “I think perhaps you should sit.”
I nodded mutely and allowed him to lead me to a stone bench nearby. When we were seated facing each other and he held both my hands in his, he began.
“The fairies promised that if tonight passed without incident I should be allowed to tell you—”
“Cristian!” We both stiffened at the sound of Cecilia’s voice. “Cristian, where are you?” She sounded distraught.
He hesitated a half-second, then rose, placing a quick kiss on my forehead. “I must go to her, but will you wait— will you trust me?”
“Yes.” I trust you. I love you. “Tell me quickly.” I caught his hand and held it.
“Cristian?” Cecilia’s voice again, a frantic note to it this time, and it sounded as if she was just on the other side of the hedge.
“It cannot be explained in a second,” Cristian whispered. “Return to the kitchens and stay there. I’ll come for you as soon as I’m able.”
And then he was gone, almost as quickly as when Florence had left me earlier. I was alone again. Even the brief drizzle had abandoned me. I ran my fingers over the bench, crumbling and in need of repair. My heartbeat still felt erratic, my lips moist and tingling. I closed my eyes, indulging in fantasy come true for a moment, reliving our kiss. At last, still delirious with happiness, I rose from the bench and made my way toward the hedge. I’d only started through when whispered voices coming from the path on the other side gave me pause.
“We’d met before, and I recalled him. I tried to get him to stay."
I recognized Cecilia’s voice, obviously distressed.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there to cut in,” Cristian said. “I saw that you were occupied, and I thought perhaps for one dance…”
“'Tis alright. He did me no harm. In truth, I think he meant to warn me. I am simply relieved you are well.” Through the hedge, I caught a glimpse of them as they walked past, the princess with her hand tucked in the crook of Cristian’s arm.
“For everyone’s safety,” she said, “I think it important we’re together as much as possible until the wedding.”
“I agree,” Cristian said readily. His
head moved ever so slightly as he glanced at the hedge.
I held my breath and stood as motionless as a statue until they had long passed me. I retreated back into the abandoned garden.
Abandoned, like me.
The full moon cast sufficient light on my surroundings to see that at one time this had been a beautiful place. Overgrown bushes curved in such a way I could imagine the ornate shapes they’d once taken. Brittle vines crawled up the sides of the brick walls. Dried flower petals covered the ground. And in the center of the decaying grotto, there was an enormous hole in the ground, as if a large stone had been removed. What happened here to make the gardeners, the royal family, abandon it so? Had it simply served its purpose and been left behind? Was that what would happen to me? Had I served my purpose— a little fun until Cristian married, a stolen kiss, an unwitting bodyguard for the royal couple— and now would I, too, be neglected, while the person of real importance took her place at his side?
I wandered deeper into the garden, past the bench where I’d sat and past the tree beneath which I’d experienced that first glorious kiss. It was difficult to believe Cristian would use me so. He’s different from Gemine, I reasoned, knowing that was true. Gemine had deliberately set out to deceive me, whereas Cristian had simply wanted a friend. He was all the things a prince should be— generous, noble, hard-working… once he found a cause to work for. I’d believed him honest, too, but how could that be? Tonight he’d either been honest with me or honest with Cecilia. He would come for me, or he would stay with her, but to do both was impossible.
And wrong, a voice inside me insisted. My conscience had finally returned. Was I the one who made my relationship with Cristian more than it should have been?
True— he had kissed me first. But I’d wanted him to, wished for it, even. The same way I wished he’d leave Cecilia this very moment and come for me.
Even as I fought back tears, I hung my head, shamed by my treacherous thoughts. Cecilia was every bit as good as Cristian, and she’d had to wait so very long for her chance at happiness. And they could be happy together.
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