by Shea, K. M.
There was a huge patch of them that Elise had found weeks ago when she was first trying to avoid her brothers. She may as well start there.
After a ten-minute walk, Elise found the nettles. She laid out her burlap cloth and started slicing the plants at the very base, digging into the ground to get the maximum length possible.
The swan walked around the patch, grunting and occasionally flapping his wings. Elise thought he was eating, but she wasn’t entirely certain and concentrated on cutting the nettles. It was extremely painful, as Elise had to wrap her entire hand around the plant instead of gingerly maneuvering it like she could when knitting.
Elise bit her lip and glared at the plants, silently snarling at the biggest ones that were the hardest to cut. Before placing each plant on the length of burlap, she stripped the leaves and tossed them aside.
It was about an hour before Elise was satisfied with her gathered bundle. She rolled the burlap twice around her gathered nettles and held the rough cloth as she carried her cargo back, her whistle and knife wedged in the burlap wrap.
The swan padded along at Elise’s side, occasionally zigzagging back and forth in front of her.
Elise grinned, infected by the bird’s good mood. She would be able to finish the shirts before her predicted time of midsummer at this rate. With luck, by the end of winter they could take Arcainia back from Clotilde—if Angelique had been cleared of suspicion, that was.
Elise froze when she heard a horse neigh.
Falk’s horse and Brida’s mount were both tethered in their meadow. They were too far away for Elise to hear them so clearly. Elise’s elation left her as she abandoned her path and crept in the direction of the neigh.
She almost gave up hope of finding the creature when it snorted and pawed the ground.
Elise, still holding her prickly bundle, peered at it through the trees. The swan companion hissed from behind her ankles. She relaxed when she saw the mount.
She had been afraid Clotilde had found them and sent soldiers to kill them, but the horse was clearly Verglas bred, thick and furry with more mane and tail than a normal horse would know what to do with. Elise’s shoulders heaved, and she smiled as she studied the plainly dressed horse. It had nothing on it but a saddle, a small saddlebag, and a short bow that was hooked over its rump. It probably belonged to a hunter.
Elise dropped her bundle.
A hunter.
Elise hurtled through the woods, ignoring the horse that spooked at her when she burst out of the tress and the swan that flapped its wings and hissed at her.
She almost fell flat when her bare feet landed out on a moss-covered rock, but Elise caught herself and kept running in spite of the burning pain of her bruised foot.
She had to get back to the pond.
Most hunters went after big game—deer, boars, and the like. But some members of nobility had a taste for poultry, like wild quail, pheasant, ducks, or swans.
Branches ripped at Elise’s arms, and brambles scratched her legs, but Elise ran harder. She skid into the clearing around the pond. Six swans were there—the seventh was no doubt safe and angrily following her trail. But where…?
Elise covered her mouth to choke her gasp. A man garbed in green crouched behind a bush, an arrow notched in his bow.
A quick look confirmed he was targeting the swan sitting on the shore. It was the smallest swan, and his back was to the hunter. His feathers were poofed around him like a peacock and he admired his reflection in the clear water. It had to be Gerhart.
Elise couldn’t scream.
Her heart beat like a pounding drum. She wanted to shout, rail at the hunter, and warn Gerhart, but she couldn’t let a sound escape.
Elise tore across the sandy bank and threw herself at Gerhart just as the bow string twanged with the release of an arrow.
Elise and Gerhart rolled into the pond, getting thoroughly drenched. Gerhart struggled so much Elise thought he was hit, but when she let him go, he wacked her in the face with his wings and stumbled back a step. Elise turned around to find an arrow embedded in the sandy shore, a small bit of her gray dress pinned beneath it.
An ocean roared in Elise’s ears for a moment as she realized how close Gerhart had been to dying. Then the hunter spoke.
“What tha’! Girl! Whaddaya think yer doing?”
Elise looked at the hunter with a murderous expression. She grabbed a rock and threw it at the hunter, pelting him on the shoulder.
“Ouch, what—ack! I’m goin’, I’m goin’! Ack, yer mad!” the hunter said as he backed away from the pond.
Elise, driven by anger and absolute fright for her brothers, stalked across the pond shore and grabbed a wooden club Mikk had fashioned out of a sturdy tree branch. She swung it through the air as she ran at the hunter.
“Just lemme grab ma quiver—ouch—ye snarlin’ mountain cat!” the hunter said, not dodging quite fast enough and getting the tail end of a blow to his stomach.
By now, the swans realized Elise was upset, and they beat their wings and ran speedily across the shore, hissing and snapping at the cornered hunter.
“Witch!” the hunter said, abandoning his quiver before he fled into the woods.
Elise’s swan companion launched himself from the trees, angrily beating his wings. The rest of the swans hurried to his side, hissing and grunting to each other.
Elise dropped to her knees and breathed deeply to combat the sudden faintness of her heart.
Where was Brida? Wasn’t she supposed to guard? What use was she if she wandered off like that? It wasn’t like Elise could call her or something…the whistle.
Elise held back a groan and pounded the ground with one hand. She forgot her wooden whistle with her knife and the burlap wrapped nettles. Brida was going to kill her.
In the pond, Gerhart shook out his feathers while several other swans shoved their orange beaks into Elise’s wild hair and pulled on her curls.
Elise unsteadily swallowed. If Brida didn’t kill her, her brothers would.
Chapter 8
Steffen drummed his fingers on the leather saddle pack draped across his lap. “You forgot the whistle Brida made you?”
“I apologize,” Elise said, avoiding his eyes as she stood in front of him.
Steffen sighed. “I just want to keep you safe, Elise. It’s an impossible task out here, and we’ve done nothing but put you in jeopardy, but our curse isn’t worth your life.”
Elise mutely took the gentle scolding.
“It was unfortunate that Brida was out gathering wood when the huntsman came, but it was only the best of luck that the huntsman was, apparently, a weak-spined fellow, and you were able to chase him off with nothing but rocks and a wooden club.”
“And a host of hissing swans,” Erick added.
“We hardly count, as we are unable to do anything,” Steffen said.
“Spare Elise the lecture. We should be hailing her a hero. She saved Gerhart,” Nick called from the edge of the pond where he sat in the darkness with a fishing pole.
Steffen looked unconvinced, and Elise saw another lecture in his eyes.
It was to her relief that Rune stepped in.
“Regardless of what happened, everyone is safe. Elise will not make that mistake again. Will you, Elise?” the golden-tongued Rune said.
“No, I won’t,” Elise said.
“See? She will be careful to carry her whistle with her from now on. There’s no need to further lecture her. Why don’t we talk about ways we could prevent this in the future, and Elise can get washed up?”
“I suppose,” Steffen frowned.
Elise hastily stood and trotted off into the darkness before the eldest prince could rethink his decision. “Thank you, Rune,” Elise whispered as she made her way around the pond in the dark.
She knelt next to the pond and scrubbed at her arms and face after splashing herself with water. She gave her face a final rinse and almost jumped out of her dress when Gerhart appeared next to her, ca
rrying a torch.
“Why?”
Elise blinked. “Excuse me?”
“Why did you save me?
Elise wiped her hands off on her grubby dress. “Why wouldn’t I save you?”
“I’ve been nothing but horrid to you for years. I have mocked you and snubbed you and done everything in my power to look down at you. Why didn’t you let the hunter kill me?”
“Before you were horrid, we were great friends. I know you aren’t a bad person, Hart, although I have no idea what made you change. Besides, even if you went on being horrid to me for the rest of our lives, you’re still my brother,” Elise said.
“I was jealous of you,” Gerhart said. “Before Clotilde, Father acted like the sun rose and fell with you. Everyone gushed over you. They talked about how perfect you were.”
Elise brushed off her dress. “Be that as it may, I never did anything to scorn you or to make you scorn me, did I?”
Gerhart was mute.
“I thought as much. Good evening, Hart,” Elise said, turning to go back to the campfire.
“I was scared,” he blurted out. “Yes, I was jealous, but I was cowardly and weak-willed.”
Elise paused. “In what way were you cowardly?”
“I should have told them to bugger off. I should have been stronger. We could have stayed the idyllic brother and sister, but I was too weak. I’m sorry.”
“Them?” Elise asked.
Gerhart looked off to the side, avoiding Elise’s gaze.
“Hart.”
“Rune and Falk,” he finally said, shrinking under Elise’s looming shadow.
“What did they do?” Elise asked, her voice scratchy as she turned her head at an almost unnatural angle to look at her two supposed suitors.
“When you turned fifteen, Rune took me to this cave I had been begging to explore with him for months.”
“I remember.”
“While we were there, we had a talk,” Gerhart said, shifting uneasily.
The words were pulled unwillingly from him, but whenever he glanced at Elise he seemed to realize she posed a greater threat than his older brothers.
“Rune said I was growing up, and I needed to man up and end my childish friendship with you. I said I didn’t want to… He convinced me otherwise.”
“And Falk?”
“When I got back, Falk took me to a silo used for grain storage and locked me inside. He said if I didn’t stop clinging to you, he would leave me there.”
Elise was silent, but her building fury was obvious based on the twitch of her eyebrows.
“Even though they did that, it was my choice to break off our friendship. I was angry and humiliated, and I felt like I didn’t have the strength to go against them. It was because of my weakness that I treated you abominably. I hated that I couldn’t oppose them,” Gerhart said.
“Hart, you were thirteen!”
“That shouldn’t matter.”
Elise threw her hands in the air. “Come with me,” she said, grabbing Gerhart’s wrist and pulling him back to the campfire. “Rune, Falk,” she snarled. “You two intimidated Hart when he was thirteen, telling him to stay away from me?”
Rune rolled his eyes. “I should have known he would eventually squeal,” he muttered.
“I counted on it,” Falk said, grinding up herbs on the top of a flat rock with the bone handle of a knife.
“How can you two say that? Furthermore, how could you do something so cruel to your little brother?” Elise said.
“If we hadn’t, it would have been impossible to pry you from him,” Falk said.
Rune shot him a look before he tried soothing Elise. “Elise, you’re taking this too seriously. We’re men. If we have a problem, we punch one another. It’s just how we handle things.”
“That doesn’t make it right,” Elise said.
“But it’s true,” Nick said, fingering his broken nose.
Elise reached out and grabbed Rune—who was closest—by the collar of his shirt. “You don’t get it. Hart was angelic before he scorned me. He was so cute and adorable. I will never get those years back,” she said before pushing Rune away and ringing her arms around Hart’s shoulders.
“Now he’s a big teenager. I missed three years of my only little sibling’s life because of you,” she snarled.
Gerhart was pink-cheeked and wouldn’t look his brothers in the eye.
“Well. That plan backfired on you,” Erick observed.
“You two are worse than I thought,” Elise said.
Rune sighed and sat down next to Falk. “We should have gone another route—found him a girl to obsess over maybe.”
Falk continued to grind his herbs. “We won’t make the same mistake a second time.”
“You think I’ve scolded you so now the matter is over?” Elise asked, planting her hands on her hips.
“Hardly. You will very likely rail at us for the rest of our days, but it doesn’t matter,” Falk said.
“What do you mean?”
“It took Gerhart out of the running for your affections, didn’t it? Our dear little brother apparently has a thing for Onella, one of my pretty subordinates. He is besotted with her. Considering his admiration, I am surprised he had the courage to tell you of our childhood games.”
“Games?”
“Especially as Onella happens to be one of my personal assistants who is extremely loyal to me,” Falk continued.
“Falk,” Gerhart complained. “I am not smitten with Onella.”
“You are. Mikk’s sneaks told him so,” Falk said.
“Miiikkk!” Gerhart complained.
Mikk shrugged.
Elise sighed deeply before she stomped over to Brida in hopes of being fed. The captain had found wild asparagus and was heating it over the fire.
“I hate men,” Elise said after sitting next to the captain.
Elise didn’t expect a response, so she was shocked when Brida said, “I’m yet again increasingly glad I am an only child.”
Elise looked to the stone-faced captain, but she was just as solemn as ever as she tended to the asparagus.
Elise shifted, listening to her foster-brothers tease Gerhart.
“Really, Gerhie, with all the proper ladies you can choose from, I’m surprised you are going for one of Falk’s underlings,” Nick said. “She’s not going to be filthy rich and able to support you, you know.”
“I am not enamored with Onella!”
Mikk stared at the fire. “As she is Falk’s personal assistant, that means she has the degree of cunning that he prizes greatly in his direct subordinates.”
“I hadn’t thought of that. Do you enjoy being ruled, Gerhie?” Nick asked.
“Steffen, tell them to stop!” Gerhart said.
“Why? Isn’t it a great bonding experience to be open and enthusiastic with each other?”
“Men,” Elise said in disgust. “No decorum in them.”
“Perhaps,” Falk said, surprising Elise when he sat down on her other side. “But if you leave us alone long enough, we will get things done. Extend your hands, please. Thank you,” he said before he started smearing the green paste his ground up plants made on Elise’s hands.
Brida watched the process for a moment. “If you’ll excuse me, I believe I should start cleaning the fish. Prince, Princess,” Brida said, standing and bowing before she left the pair.
As Falk spread the paste, the burning and itching feeling that plagued Elise’s hands cooled. It tamed the splotches and the constant heat, providing sweet relief.
Elise shut her eyes, reveling in the coolness. “This feels wonderful. What is it?”
“Dandelion.”
Elise could feel her tension ease as the pain slipped away. “Thank you, Falk. Thank you for caring about my hands.”
“I care about every part of you, Elise.”
Elise opened her eyes to stare at the dark-haired prince. He was bent over her hands, not the least embarrassed by his words.
“Why?” Elise finally asked.
Falk glanced up at her. He was quiet for several long moments before he spoke again. “Because I love you, and to see you in any kind of pain is intolerable. If you are hurt, I will always do my best to see that you are mended.”
Elise found that she was speechless.
Falk smeared the last of the past on Elise’s hands. “Keep it on until we turn back into swans. Then you can wash it off in the pond. It should provide relief through the night,” Falk said before he stood and retreated to his brothers—who were still teasing Gerhart.
Elise watched him go and shook her head. “Men.”
The last of the Verglas spring rains beat heavily the following week. During that time, Elise and Brida huddled in their slightly drafty but dry shelter. They left it only to check on the swans and the horses, so Elise was able to work faster than ever. She finished the second shirt and got a good start on the third before the rain ended.
“I’ve run out of nettles,” Elise said the last night of the rain—it was impossibly crowded in the shelter with the seven princes to cram inside as well, but at least it was warmer.
“Wait until the ground dries a little before you look for more,” Nick said. “Trying to find them in all this muck will do you no good.”
“But won’t they be easier to pull out of the ground right now?” Elise asked.
“It would be nothing but a great deal messier. You are better off waiting until the ground is soft but not moist,” Falk said.
“But that could be days,” Elise said.
“A few extra days as swans won’t harm us, although your loyalty warms me,” Rune said, kissing the top of Elise’s head.
It was a gesture Elise was familiar with, but the arm he slipped around her waist was new. Added to the claim that he loved her, Elise found herself blushing.
“Heel,” Steffen said, carelessly yanking Rune backwards by the collar of his sparkling white shirt. “Keep your paws to yourself, mutt.”
“Why do you continue to insert yourself where you are unwanted?” Rune asked Steffen.