“Please unfasten my necklace.”
Frieda did as she was asked and when it was unclasped tried to hand it to Romy.
“No, I want you to have it. I know that you have always felt bad that you lost your mother’s lucky broach. So, I think it’s best that you have one of your own.”
Frieda gasped. “Romy, this is your favorite possession. I can’t take that from you.”
“You aren’t taking it,” Romy assured Frieda as she urged her to put it on. The knocking at the door sounded again. “We are coming,” Romy called out. Then to Frieda she said, “You and Papa are the most important things in my life, not a necklace. I want you to have the protection that I can put into this necklace. I want you to know the happiness you deserve.”
A fat tear plopped onto Frieda’s perfect alabaster cheek. Once again, Romy was astounded at how lovely Frieda looked when she cried. It really wasn’t fair.
Frieda put the necklace on, and Romy took it into her hands. The medallion began to glow, and Romy poured magic into every inch of it.
“There,” Romy said when she was satisfied at last.
Another knock sounded, followed by Papa’s voice saying, “Let’s shake a leg, ladies.”
They both laughed. Frieda dried her tears and held her hand out to Romy. “Let’s do this.”
It was said that Frieda was the most beautiful bride their kingdom had ever seen. The king blessed their union with all the pomp and circumstance that he felt his son deserved. It was a long day, filled with laughter, tears, and more than a few hugs.
By the time they had reconvened in the village square, Romy was feeling tired and ready to go home. The last thing she wanted was to eat another bite, dodge another thinly veiled insult, or hear how she was the Princess’s charity work.
It was nothing that Romy hadn’t heard hundreds of times before. But somehow when she and Frieda had been looking into that mirror. Romy had started to feel that maybe she could be somebody different than the mold she had always been shoved into.
“Can I have this dance?” The deep voice interrupted her thoughts. Romy looked up to see who he might be speaking to and was shocked to see Einar standing in front of her chair.
“I don’t dance?” she said stupidly.
“Is that a question?” he asked, eyes dancing.
Romy shook her head. “No, I don’t dance.”
Einar leaned down, pushing a stray curl behind her ear. Then with his finger he traced the line of her cheek. “Correction,” he said quietly. “You don’t dance, unless you are with me.”
Romy felt his arms come around her and suddenly she went from sitting on the sidelines to wrapped in Einar’s arms. His scent, of clean soap, spicy cologne, and sheer male magnetism was doing strange things to her brain. He set her on her feet and began to lead her in a dance.
It wasn’t more than five steps before she was all tangled up and near falling. Her special shoes worked well enough to walk up the aisle, but it was no match for dancing. She bit the inside of her cheek trying to stop the emotion from getting the best of her.
“I can’t do this,” Romy pleaded, sounding close to tears.
Before she could say anything else, Einar’s arm that was already at her back, tightened until her feet left the ground. He continued to make all of the moves, turning them this way and that. Only Romy no longer had to worry about where she needed to place her feet.
It was one of the most thoughtful and frightening experiences of her life. Never had she been in such close proximity to a boy. Rather than insist he set her down, as Romy knew she should do. She simply placed her head against his chest and enjoyed the first dance of her life.
Needless to say, it was simply wonderful.
Chapter 16
Chapter 17-
"What do you mean, you are going to have a baby?”
Frieda’s face was deathly pale. “I mean just precisely as I said. In seven months, I will be having a baby.”
Romy paced back and forth in Frieda’s dressing room. In the year since Frieda had married Thomas, they had packed up Frieda’s childhood home and moved hours away to the palace.
At first it had been difficult for Romy living so far from Frieda. They sent letters and visited as much as they could, but it wasn’t the same, nor would it ever be again.
Thankfully, Einar was still coming around to keep Romy company. She couldn’t say that she had grown used to the butterflies or the way that she was acutely aware of his every move. But Romy could say that she was starting to enjoy him more.
As much as Einar loved the stars, he was also very enthusiastic about gardening. Much to Romy’s irritation, he actually had some enlightening advice that she begrudgingly took.
Papa often could be found in his hammock listening to the two of them arguing over where to plan something or how to harvest something else. Romy had just felt like things were settling into some sort of new normalcy when word came that she was needed immediately at the palace.
When she arrived it only took one look on Frieda’s face to know that something was dreadfully wrong. And now her suspicions were confirmed. Frieda was going to have a baby. A baby that held a great and terrible curse. Anyone the baby touched would immediately die.
“You have to do something, Romy!” Frieda pleaded with her. “What am I going to do? Thomas thinks that I am losing my mind. The king is ecstatic and insisting that I have a son. How do I tell him that the child I have he will never hold?”
“Take a deep breath,” Romy said, opting to take her own advice before continuing on. “Now, surely there are libraries and hidden vaults with all sorts of information here in the palace. There has to be a way we can break or alter this curse.”
Frieda brightened slightly. “Do you think so?”
Romy nodded confidently, only she wished she felt as confident as she sounded. Romy had a bad feeling about the entire affair. She wished that she had Papa to be a sounding board for her ideas. But he had stayed behind with Einar to make sure that they tended the garden. If only she had thought to insist he come along.
“Well now, I was wondering where you had gone off to.” Thomas’ booming voice had both girls falling silent. “What were you talking about?”
“Papa,” Romy said.
Sadly, it was at the same time Frieda had chimed, “Dinner.”
Romy scrambled to fix things. “I was just telling Frieda that I hoped Papa would be able to manage the premade dinners I left him.”
Thomas’ face formed that fake smile that never ceased to make Romy cringe. “It’s nice that you are concerned about Romy’s domestic issues, Frieda. But you are looking pale. I think it’s best if you rest and speak to Romy later.”
Romy fought the urge to tell Thomas just what he could do with his domestic issues. In the year since he married Frieda, Thomas had only become more difficult to be around. Romy often wondered how he managed to walk around with such a big head.
“I will leave you then,” Romy turned to leave but Frieda reached out and caught her in a death grip.
Her eyes were pleading as she hoarsely asked, “You will look for that book? I will tell the servants you have access to anywhere in the palace.” Thomas looked ready to object but Frieda stopped him. “No, Romy must find this book on—childbearing.”
Thomas shook his head. “Nonsense. We have the best healers in the kingdom. We don’t need Romy’s talents.”
Frieda wouldn’t let go of Romy’s arm. “Promise me.”
Romy nodded. “I promise.”
Thomas, not even part of the conversation, said in exasperation, “Oh, very well. Romy please find whatever nonsensical book she needs to put her mind at rest. We can’t have my heir’s mother in such a dither all the time. If this is what will calm her, I will allow it.”
“It will,” Frieda promised thankfully. “I will feel so much better.”
Finally, she released Romy’s arm.
Not wanting to waste any time, Romy turned and fled the roya
l dressing room. She knew that if she could find some time for herself. There was always a chance that she could use a locating spell. It was a long shot, but Romy knew that they needed to explore every avenue and not leave one stone uncovered.
“I say,” Thomas called out to Romy as she rushed down the hall.
“Yes?” Romy asked.
When Thomas frowned, Romy added hastily, “Yes, your highness.”
He beamed and went on as if nothing had happened. “I don’t want Frieda to be worried. This book, it isn’t something you have filled her head with.”
Romy could hardly believe the nerve of the boy. How he had managed to win Frieda’s heart, Romy would never know.
“No, your highness. I actually don’t even know what I am looking for. This is all her idea. If you would rather I leave…”
As she trailed off, Thomas took a step forward, waving his hands. “No, no. We are thrilled you are here. I just want what is best for her. That is all.”
Romy nodded stiffly and then curtsied. In all the years since Frieda had first tried to teach Romy, she never had quite mastered the move. However, at least she didn’t land on her face. This time when she left, Romy went as far away from everyone as she possibly could.
She reasoned that something old and unused would likely be kept in the attics. The stairways were steep and by the time Romy reached the attic steps she was dog tired. With effort she managed to climb the last set of stairs and open the attic door.
"A child of the raven’s,” an old voice drawled. How unusual.”
“Who are you?” Romy called out, not seeing anyone else in the space besides herself.
“Nobody of any importance,” the old voice responded. Romy couldn’t tell where the sound was coming from. It seemed to come from anywhere and nowhere at the same time.
“Why are you here?” Romy tried again.
“Where else would I be?”
Romy stamped her foot. “This is getting us nowhere. If you have something to say, I suggest you do so. If not, I have things that need to be done.”
Laughter filled the attic. “You are much like your mother, Romy.”
It felt as if someone had walked across her grave. The hair on the back on her neck stood and goosebumps covered her flesh.
“If this is a joke, I don’t find it funny.”
“If this is a joke, Romy. You are in far more trouble than you could even imagine. Come along, we have work to do.”
At this a light appeared at the far end of the dark attic. Romy knew that only a fool would follow a creepy voice into the inky blackness of an abandoned attic. Sadly, she was just that sort of fool.
Chapter 17
Chapter 18-
“How do you know my mother?’ Romy asked shakily as she walked into the darkest part of the attic.
Instead of answering, a light flickered on and perched on a dusty antique chaise was a woman. Her image faded in and out of sight. Long black hair, that was every bit as wild as Romy’s, floated around her. Eyes that were pure white looked back at her.
Romy fought the urge to run as fast and far as her uneven legs would carry her. Instead she straightened up to her full height and asked again. “Who are you?”
“My name was Corbina, but no one has called me that in a long time. Sit child, there are things that I must tell you. Things you will need to know to finish your quest.”
Corbina flicked her wrist and Romy felt her knees give as a high-backed wing chair from another century collided with them. She landed with a thump, puffs of dust causing her to sneeze.
When she finally got her composure back, she exclaimed, “You’re magic!”
Corbina smiled and for a moment seemed to become clearer. “When you leave your mortal body behind, you will take your gifts and talents with you to the next life.”
“When were you, erm, alive?” Romy asked.
“Not that long ago,” Corbina’s eyes became unfocused as if lost in a dream.
“Corbina?” Romy asked.
The woman snapped to attention. “Of course, please forgive me. Now, where was I?”
“You said you knew my mother,” Romy prompted.
The woman sat back. Her form flickered like a candle as she spoke. “Yes, Branwen was a lovely woman, much like yourself. She came from a land of rolling hills, craggy mountains, and breathtaking sea sides. However, when she met your father, she left all of that behind. Despite their happiness, I think a part of Branwen always remained with the sea.”
“I have never seen the sea,” Romy said quietly. “I don’t have any memory of my parents. My earliest memories are now clouded with what Papa has told me about the day he found me.”
“Your Papa is a good man,” Corbina said. “The ravens chose your guardian well.”
“The ravens? You speak as if you can communicate with them.”
Corbina lifted a brow. “Can you not?”
“Speak to birds?” Romy scoffed. “No. I wasn’t aware that anyone could speak with animals.”
“You are a girl that can grow plants in the palm of your hand. Do not disregard something just because you haven’t seen it before. The world is filled with wonders that are yet to be discovered.”
Chastened, Romy nodded. “You are right, of course you are. I should know that.”
Corbina smiled. “You remind me of your father as well.”
“You knew him?” Romy’s tone was filled with wonder. “What was he like?”
“Your father was my youngest brother. He looked a lot like you. He was quick to smile but had a sharp temper when vexed. His heart and soul belonged to your mother.”
Romy’s head was reeling, and she fought to take in all the information. “What was his name?”
“Ivan,” Corbina said affectionately. “We lived in the southern country surrounded by forests. You father went off on an expedition and was gone for nearly five years. He came back without the much-needed financial resources that we needed. Instead, he had promised to pay an exorbitant amount to the king of the ravens for your mother’s hand in marriage.”
Romy shook her head in confusion. “Why would he need to pay a bride price to the king? Was he her father?”
“No, he was her guardian.” Corbina leaned forward as if to tell Romy a secret. “Your father didn’t pick just anyone as he bride. Your mother was the only wielder of magic for the raven country. By setting the price so high, the king was trying to ensure that he would never get her.”
“Then, how did he?” Romy asked. “How did my father come up with such a great sum of money?”
“Oh, he didn’t. In fact, rather than face the king’s wrath. They both ran away in the night, with a promise to one day fulfill the bargain.”
Romy stared. “That doesn’t sound very honest.”
Corbina laughed. “I don’t suppose it was. When people are in love, they are known to do foolish things.”
Romy grunted in agreement. After all, hadn’t she watched Frieda make all kinds of ill-advised choices?
“What happened next?” Romy asked. “Did the king come after them?”
“The king was smart and cunning. He wasn’t a man to be cheated out of what he felt was his. Not only that, but he had a signed note from your father that the bride price would be paid. That, my dear, is where you enter the story.”
“Me” Romy replied blankly. “How did the king even know that I existed? Was he the reason why I was taken by the ravens? I don’t understand.”
Corbina shook her head sadly. “The king didn’t know you existed, child. Think!”
The way Corbina had called her child reminded Romy of Papa. A wave of longing to be wrapped in his arms overtook Romy. She was suddenly weary and feeling very tired and very young.
“I will tell you this, Romy,” Corbina continued. “Your father is from the ravens, just like you are.”
“What? He was taken by ravens too?”
Corbina shook her head. “You aren’t listening, Romy. Learn more about the
raven country. Find out where you came from.”
“But how can I find them?” Romy asked. “I don’t have any idea where the ravens come from.”
“Maybe you know someone who can help you?” Corbina said softly.
Her image began to fade in and out.
“Wait! Why did the raven’s take me from my parents?” Romy pleaded with Corbina. “Why would they be so cruel?”
“I cannot tell you,” Corbina replied.
The frustration that Romy felt was apparent in her pleading. “At least tell me who the king was.”
Corbina smiled. “Ah, now that is an excellent question. I suppose it deserves an answer.”
The light sparked Corbina faded until she was barely visible.
“Wait!” Romy called out in fear. “You can’t leave now. I don’t know the rest of the story.”
“You are the rest of the story, Romy. You already know where it went. What you need to search for is how it began. We will meet again when you need me.” And then she was gone.
Romy stared at the empty chaise where Corbina at sat only moments before. The moment had been so completely surreal that Romy was almost worried it hadn’t happened. Perhaps she was losing her mind?
Her eyes narrowed and she looked at the shelf next to the chaise. On the ledge was a small brown book. Romy knew that it most likely wasn’t anything. However, after all of the odd things that had happened that day, she wanted to look just in case.
The book was heavy for as small as it appeared. It was obviously old and more than a bit dusty. Romy wiped away the layers of dust and saw the small engraving in the lower right-hand corner—Branwen.
With shaky fingers, Romy opened the cover and began to read. It appeared to be something of a journal, but there were spells and incantations scribbled into the sidelines. Romy read and read until day had passed to night. The flickering light hadn’t even bothered her. The only reason she finally stopped was that the rumbles of her stomach were getting to loud to ignore.
Romy could hardly believe she could now put a name with her mother. Instead of being some ambiguous figure, Romy knew that her name. She knew Branwen’s favorite color, or colors, since Branwen loved the shades of the sunset. Romy had learned her mother was good at sewing, but terrible at arts and crafts.
Kingdom of Villains and Vengeance Page 24