by Ashenden, V.
"It's all right, Celeste." He knelt down, picking one up. He brought it to the bottom of his mask, slipping it under and into his mouth. "They're quite ripe, aren't they?"
She nodded, her mask wiggling. "Yeah. They're good."
Court turned halfway around. "Wellington, Homa, might you give me a few moments alone with the princess?"
"Of course, sir," Wellington said, bowing his head.
"Yes, your highness," Homa said, bowing as well. She gave Sienna a look.
And then Court began walking and Sienna stayed at his side, passing around the hedge maze. They found a stone bench and he sat on it. She joined him, trying to keep her back straight like she had done on the throne. Was she supposed to look at him? She might as well. She turned and looked straight at him. She saw his eyes flash through the holes of his mask. He was staring. This was the first time she had really looked into his eyes, seen the soft, inviting brown color he had.
"Celeste," he said, "I don't know what to say."
"I'm sorry about the cherries."
"No, not about that. What I mean to say is everything about you is...different."
"It is?"
"Yes. I have been on campaign, and let me say, when a soldier, even a prince, passes a fruit tree, no fruit is left behind in the army's wake."
She smiled, though he could not see it, but perhaps he suspected it in her eyes.
"You are amazing," he said.
"Me? I am?"
"You are. You have swept me away."
"Really?" she said, sounding proud of herself. Princess Celeste was going to be so happy that she had done so well. "I'm so happy to hear you say that."
"Are you happy, truly?" he asked. "Do you not mind to marry a man whom you know nothing about?"
"Aw, well, I know a bit about you now, don't I? I know you play polo, and you joust, and you swim, and you like to hunt too, but you're no good at wrestling creatures with your bare hands, and maybe I think you don't like all this aristocracy stuff that much either, but I think you want to make your father proud, so you're here for that, even if it means marrying a woman you don't know."
"Perhaps I've gotten to know a bit about you too."
She peered into his eyes. "And you like what you've seen?"
"I do. I want to learn more."
His hand reached up, sliding under her golden hair, his palm on her facemask, his fingers touching the flesh on her jaw. It was a touch much more intimate than she had ever experienced before.
"May I take this off, princess? May we both take them off? I am so eager to look upon your beauty."
She bit her lip under the mask. "Maybe I'm not beautiful."
"I already know you're beautiful. I am only curious to see if your face matches it."
She smiled. "You're so sweet. I wish I could take it off, but I'd get in so much trouble."
"Are you sure?" he said.
She nodded. "You can kiss me if you want though."
"May I?" he said.
She nodded again. "Yeah. I've kinda been waiting for you to kiss me all night."
"Then you'll wait no more."
He took the bottom of her mask, lifting it slowly. She would not have stopped him even if he tore it off, but it came to a rest just on the tip of her nose. She could see nothing with the eyeholes gone. For a moment, she was stuck there in the dark, wondering what it would be like to kiss a boy, and then she felt his lips on hers.
It was a different sensation than she thought it would be. She thought it would be cold and dry, like two hands clapping together. It was not. It was wet, sticky, and so very warm. The warmth was what was so amazing. It spread out from her jaw, sweetening in her mouth, traveling down her throat, into her stomach, igniting a fire that sent a rush of heat to the tips of her limbs, tingling her fingers and toes.
She was trying her best to kiss him like she had seen other people kiss, hoping he liked it. He was slow with her, his mouth so soft against hers. She reached up, feeling blindly for him, sliding her arms around his neck, holding him close. It was as if her body knew to do this by instinct, to keep him close, to keep kissing him. And then his mouth opened, her lips slipping between them, closing down on each other, his nose bumping into hers as he turned his head, their masks clunking together.
Sienna let out an exhale that turned into a moan in his mouth. And then Court broke the kiss. Sienna reached up, pulling down her mask so she could see him properly. She felt dizzy. His eyes were on her, smoldering through the holes in his mask.
"Um, wow," she whispered. "That was incredible."
"Truly?" he whispered back.
She nodded hazily. "I've never been kissed before."
"You haven't?"
She shook her head. "I didn't know that's what it was like to kiss a boy."
He reached out again, stroking her exposed jaw and neck. "Your innocence is beautiful, princess."
"Um, thanks. Do you want to kiss me again?"
He chuckled very softly. "Do you want me to kiss you again?"
"Yeah. I think I do. I really, really think I do."
He lifted her mask faster this time, just up to her nose, moving his own out of the way so his lips could meet hers. She pressed harder into him, growing hungry, her lips opening and closing, her nose pulsating to feed her desire. And then she felt his tongue. What was that doing there? It was as if it was coming to say hello to her. Was she supposed to lick it?
She licked it. She wanted more, more of this, all of it. She began licking with her tongue, moving her lips. Her hands were on the back of his head, holding him in place, not wanting to let him get away, to keep him there and keep him kissing her for as long as she could. She was whimpering and moaning, trying to scoot closer to him on the bench, all self-control leaving her.
And then he broke the kiss. She reached up, pulling her mask down so she could see him again, panting against the inside of it as her eyes gazed into his.
"Wow," she said. "I liked that."
"Celeste," he whispered.
Hearing that name seemed to stun her. It all came back. He wasn't kissing her. He was kissing Celeste. And Sienna for the first time, who had so often admired the life of a princess, felt jealous. Jealousy was very much like admiration, but it was uglier and deeper and stuck in her throat and caused her pain. This was not her life, none of it, and Court belonged to someone else.
"Celeste," he repeated, "I can't believe this is happening."
"Me either," Sienna whispered.
"I can't believe I'm doing this."
"Doing what?" she asked.
And then he climbed down from the bench, kneeling before her, taking her hand in his. He reached into his pocket.
"I never thought I'd actually need this tonight, not so soon."
And then he drew out a ring, a big ring, with a diamond the size of her thumb and a thick, golden band, inlaid with smaller diamonds. Her jaw dropped under the mask.
"Princess Celeste Friora Avelot, will you be my queen?"
"Are you serious?"
"Yes, Celeste. I want more. I came here convinced I would find you absolutely intolerable, but I find you absolutely irresistible. And now my heart is pounding in my chest, as it has been all night, telling me to do it, get it over with, accept my fate, a fate I think for the first time I want."
"I, I can't believe this is happening," Sienna said. "I mean, I didn't plan for this. This wasn't supposed to happen tonight. I don't know what to say. No one told me what to say."
He lifted her hand, slipping the ring on. It fit so perfectly on her finger, like it was made to go there. "It doesn't matter what anyone told you, Celeste. Do what you want to do. And if you want to say yes, say yes."
Sienna licked her lips under the mask, staring down at the ring on her finger. An imaginary future began playing in her mind, one where she was a real princess and this was her prince, and they were happy, and she did not live in a stall but a castle, and she was loved, never beaten or starved or sold. But it wasn
't real. He wasn't asking her. He was asking Celeste, and Celeste wasn't here to answer.
"Oh, Court, if it was up to me, I'd say...I'd say...oh, but I can't say it. To be married to you, a prince, living in a castle, it's a dream come true, but it's just a dream, someone else's dream."
"What do you mean?"
"I, I need time to decide, you see? It's not right to decide for someone else."
"You only need to decide for yourself. Your mother brought me here for this. The news would over-joy her."
"I wish I could answer, but, but I can't. And you can't tell anyone you asked me."
"Pardon?" he said.
She pulled the ring from her finger, staring at it again for a moment, her heart begging to entertain the possibility. She placed it back in his palm. "Just, just ask me again tomorrow. And whatever answer I give then, then I'll mean it."
"What will a day change?"
"Everything," she said, standing up. "Oh, God, I can't stay here."
"Have I done something wrong?" he asked, standing, putting the ring back in his pocket.
"No," she said. "You're...you're perfect, Court. Celeste, I mean, I am so, so, so lucky. Any woman would be so lucky to get you. I'm so...jealous of myself."
"I don't think I've ever heard anyone say that before," he said.
"Ask me tomorrow, please?"
"I don't understand," he said, taking a step after her.
She looked up at him, her lower lip trembling under her mask. This was goodbye, and she had just said hello. How had all these feelings come crashing upon her? She just needed to leave and they would go away, she was sure.
She stood up on her tiptoes, lifting his mask to his nose, pulling hers up, kissing him again. He instantly kissed her back, his head lowering to match her height, his hands on her hips to pull her in. Sienna broke the kiss this time, pulling her mask down.
"Celeste?" Court said, adjusting his mask to see her.
"I'm sorry, Court. I'm so sorry. I'll never forget you. Bye."
She turned and ran away, forgetting to bow.
"What? Celeste, come back!"
Sienna hurried off before he could say anything else, finding Homa. She crashed into her, gripping her around the waist. "Madam Homa, I can't do this anymore. I can't stay here."
"Your highness?" Homa said, glancing at Wellington so close by. "Is everything all right?"
"No," Sienna said; her eyes were growing soggy under her mask. "I'm done. I'm not doing this anymore. I'm done."
"Come along, princess," she said.
Sienna quickly made her way out with Homa beside her, taking big strides. Her heart was searing in her chest, asking her "what if," and she kept screaming at it that she wasn't a princess, that masquerading as one for a night did not entitle her to marry a prince. She knew her future. It was a stall in her uncle's tavern, a place she would be again by morning. And she would never know the love of a prince. The most she could expect was the love of a scoundrel at one hundred coins a night, because that was what the future held. A few days off did not change anything.
She took a deep breath, sniveling and letting out a gasp, her tears running down her face under her mask. Homa glanced back as they moved. The prince and Wellington were standing stunned in the hallway.
"Sienna?" Homa whispered, leaning in close. "Are you crying?"
"I just can't, can't do this anymore," she whispered, her tears catching in her throat. She sniveled, slipping her fingers under the mask to wipe her eyes. They burned so much. "I just want to go home and I don't want to see anymore princes or princesses or balls or courtyards or hors d'oeuvres. I want my stall. That's where I belong."
"Oh, child," she whispered, putting a hand on her back. "All right. I'll see to it you're home soon. The ball is over."
Chapter Nine
The Witch
By the time Sienna made it back to the princess' bedchamber, she was sobbing uncontrollably. She slumped to the floor as she entered. Betilly hurried over, asking what had happened. Homa came down beside Sienna, lifting the mask to see her red eyes and wet face.
"Child, whatever is the matter?"
Sienna could not speak. She just grabbed Homa and held tight as she cried.
"What has come over her?" Betilly asked.
"I don't know," Homa said. "She looked as if she was enjoying her time with the prince. But then he spoke to her alone, and she came away like this."
"Oh, my," Betilly said, looking down at Sienna. "What did the prince say to you, dear? Has he lost interest with the princess? The queen will be furious."
"Child," Homa said, stroking her hair, "please speak. What happened?"
"He, he," she sniffled, "asked me–me to marry him."
"He did?" Homa said.
"He has?" Betilly said, her voice rising. "Then all has gone well?"
"He said I'm beautiful," Sienna whimpered. "Me. He liked me, not the princess. But me."
"Oh, child," Homa said, stroking her back.
Betilly sighed. "How hard this must have been for you to pretend to fall for him."
"I wasn't pretending," Sienna whispered, wiping her face, giving way to sobs again. "What would he ever want with a commoner like me? I live in a stall. He would wipe his mouth and spit if he knew he had kissed me and not the princess."
"He kissed you?" Betilly said.
"I see," Homa said. "Child, you fell in love with him, didn't you? I'm sorry."
"I just wanna go home," Sienna whispered, pulling her knees to her chest, putting her face in them.
"Then home you shall go," Homa said. "I am so sorry I put you through all this. What a terrible burden for such an innocent girl."
"Let's get you out of this dress, shall we, dear?" Betilly said.
A knock sounded at the door and the three looked up.
"Child," Homa whispered, "I am so sorry to ask, but please, the mask, just for a few more moments to dismiss whoever has come."
She nodded, putting the mask back on. Betilly hurried to Princess Celeste, still in bed, and drew the covers up over her head, turning her into an odd looking lump that occasionally snored. Homa opened the door just a crack.
"Yes? Madam Vrine? Whatever can I do for you?"
"Where is the princess?" came Vrine's voice. "Prince Cross has returned without her. The queen is asking for her."
"Princess Celeste has decided to retire for the night."
"That is unacceptable."
"She is quite adamant, Madam."
"Let me speak to her."
"One moment."
Homa closed the door, whispering urgently. "Stay well back, Sienna! Don't come too close. Tell her you're tired. Tell her you're not well."
Sienna nodded, sniffling, trying to push away her tears. And then Homa opened the door and Vrine stepped in.
"Princess," Vrine said, giving a quick bow, "the queen requests your presence at the ball."
"I have retired for the night," Sienna whispered hoarsely. "I'm not well."
"Homa, Betilly, leave us," Vrine said. "Let me speak to the princess in private."
"Whatever for, Madam Vrine?" Homa asked.
"Because I wish it," Vrine said. "Or shall I return with the queen?"
"We'll be just outside," Homa said, glancing at Sienna. Betilly pretended to fluff a pillow, setting it down over the lump in the bed, bowing her head as she passed Vrine. Vrine kept her angry eyes and thin mouth pointed straight at Sienna.
"What are you doing, princess?"
"What?" Sienna said.
"You are behaving like a child. The queen expects more from you."
"I'm tired. The prince can see me tomorrow."
Vrine stepped closer and Sienna immediately stepped back, looking down.
"Please, I'm tired."
Vrine did not respond. Sienna glanced up. Vrine had her head tilted, as if she was examining her. She came closer again, and Sienna took a step back, bumping into the table. She stopped there and Vrine came close enough to touch. She felt
the old woman's fingers slip through her golden hair.
"Princess, your hair looks even brighter tonight than usual."
"Thank you," she whispered, as if it were a compliment.
And then Vrine slipped her finger under Sienna's chin, lifting her head. Sienna's green eyes were full of fear, so different from Celeste's hazel. Vrine's neck stretched. Sienna squinted through her mask, hoping to hide the color. And then Vrine's eyes blazed, as if she had found a jewel in a riverbed.
But then, thank goodness, Vrine took her hand back and turned away, crossing the room to the wine on the desk. She poured a glassful. "Well, if you are tired, I will tell the queen you cannot continue."
"Thank you," Sienna repeated. She was nearly in the clear.
"How did you enjoy the party?"
Sienna kept her head down, just in case, and kept her speech to a minimum. "Very well."
Vrine sipped her wine and then turned around. "I can see you're exhausted. Why don't you take off your mask?"
"In a moment," she whispered. Uh-oh...
"You really do look lovely tonight, princess, more so than usual. Your figure is, may I say, at its very best. Why, I wouldn't know it was you if I didn't know better."
She knew. Sienna could tell. Oh, no. Oh, no. She was dead. She was going to hang. Her stomach twisted into a knot. She lowered her head even farther, hoping it would be enough.
Vrine stepped closer, her footfalls so heavy on the shiny, shiny floor, right in front of Sienna. Sienna could see Vrine's shoes, dreadfully pointy things. She could even hear her breath, smell it.
"Where is the princess?" Vrine said softly.
"What do you—"
"Lie to me again, girl, and I'll behead you here and now and drag your golden locks to the queen and rip off that mask and show her the face of an imposter."
"No, please," Sienna whispered desperately, looking up. "I, I'm only a servant. The princess fell asleep, and I went out in her place so she wouldn't offend the queen. Please don't hurt me."
"Where is the princess?" Vrine demanded.
"There," she said, pointing. "Just there. Please, you'll see. She's only asleep."
Vrine strode to the bed, ripping the covers back. Her head snapped to Sienna.