by Ashenden, V.
Wellington appeared before them, so tall but so glorious in what his presence meant. Sienna could warn him! She could save the prince! She pulled herself up, standing on her feet, numb to her burning leg.
"Wellington, thank God! I have to warn you! Queen Celeste is—"
"Did you write this?" he demanded, cutting her off.
"What? What is it?"
Wellington unrolled a scroll, showing it to her. Sienna knew what it was without even reading it.
"My letter! Oh, my letter! I forgot all about it! You found it? How wonderful! Please, listen, Wellington. The prince is in grave danger!"
"Is it true?" he demanded. "You masqueraded as the princess? That night, the entire night, it was you?"
Sienna bit her lip. "Yes. I didn't mean to lie to him."
"I asked her to do so," Homa spoke up. "She is blameless. Her only crime was obeying my order. The Princess Celeste was drunk, and I did not wish to offend the prince or the queen by admitting her state."
"I cannot believe it," Wellington said. "It is high treason to impersonate a member of the royal family."
"I know it is," Sienna said quickly. "But I don't care about that part right now. You have to listen. Queen Celeste intends to kill Court!"
"What?" Wellington said, his neck pulling back.
"It is true," Homa put in. "She told us her intent with her own lips."
"Yes, yes," Sienna said quickly, all of her knowledge pouring out of her mouth, hoping to carry it on the lips of Wellington. "She wants to rule alone, just by herself, and she said that Vrine can control the dragon with witchcraft. She said she'd have Vrine send it to kill Court! And, and I think she's the one who killed the queen, poisoned her, and her father too!"
"But you killed the queen. You admitted to it."
"No, no! I didn't mean to admit to it. I thought I was being arrested for impersonating the princess!"
"You signed a confession."
"They made me sign it. They put me in that pillory stock and I couldn't breathe. I just signed it so they wouldn't hurt me anymore."
Wellington looked down. "If this is true, do you realize what it means?"
"It's all true," Homa said. "Warn the prince. Queen Celeste has lost her mind. She does indeed intend to kill him this very night, after they consummate their marriage and she is so filled with an heir, for the sake of keeping Cross an ally. She will have Vrine call the dragon. You must stop Vrine and help the prince to escape the queen."
Wellington leaned heavily against the bars. He looked at Sienna. "The prince is in love with you, at least, the person who he thinks is you."
"I know," Sienna whispered. "And I know I have no right to love or be loved by a prince, but it's not about that. It's about saving Court."
"And how do you expect me to do that? He is in the castle, waiting to be married in an hour. I will not see him until he appears on the altar."
"Then tell him on the altar," Sienna urged. "Just tell him. It's your job to save him. At the very least, stop Vrine. Don't let her summon the dragon."
Wellington nodded. "I will save the prince. I will not let anyone harm one hair on his head. But...but you must understand, I have no authority here. I cannot save you from the gallows."
"You don't have to," Sienna said. "You just have to save Court."
He bowed his head. "I'm sorry, Sienna. I misjudged you."
"Don't be sorry. Just do your duty. Save Court."
Chapter Twenty-One
Off to the Gallows
The warden was walking quickly through the halls of the castle, the guards looking shocked by his filthy appearance. He reached the steward and begged an audience with Vrine. It was a moment later before she appeared.
"Yes?" Vrine said, her long fingers together. "What is it?"
"Ma'am, you told me to come to you if anyone asked to see the prisoners. Well, someone did. The prince's valet, a man named Wellington, came to speak to them."
"And I suppose you were stupid enough to permit him?"
"I can't say no to the prince's valet, ma'am."
"Of course, you can't. Return to your prison. Continue on schedule. The prisoners are to be executed in one hour."
"Yes, ma'am. It will be done."
The warden hurried off and Vrine returned to the queen's chambers. Celeste was yelling at Betilly and Kathree about her dress.
"The tailor has made it too small for me!"
"Your majesty," Betilly said, "perhaps the measurements have changed."
"Are you calling me fat?" Celeste demanded. "Insulting the queen is punishable by death!"
"No, your majesty, never," Betilly hurriedly said. "I meant perhaps the tailor misread your measurements."
"Idiot," Celeste said, looking at herself in the mirror again, tugging on her dress as it hugged her body. She saw Vrine in the mirror. "See to it the tailor is imprisoned, Vrine."
"It will be done, your majesty. But there is another more pressing issue."
Celeste sighed. "Why is there always another more pressing issue? What is it now?"
"Betilly, Kathree, leave," Vrine said.
The pair of them scurried out of the room, avoiding eye contact. Celeste was staring at Vrine.
"Well, get on with it. I'm going to be married in an hour. There's no time for dramatic pauses."
"The prince's valet, Wellington, has spoken to the stable girl. She has undoubtedly told him everything."
Celeste exhaled in anger. "Will you please kill him?"
"The prince may notice his valet is gone, what with him serving as the best man."
"We just have to make it through the ceremony. Why must you bother me with all this, Vrine? Do you not see it is my wedding day? Just deal with him!"
"Very well," Vrine said. "I do hope the queen will remember our bargain after the king is dead and her belly is bloated with his child."
"Yes, yes, we'll put the monastery of magic under attack and you'll have your silly old spell book and you can eat their hearts or whatever it is you do to make yourself stronger. Just kill that annoying servant before he ruins everything."
"It shall be done."
* * *
"It's time," the warden said, grinning with his yellow teeth.
Sienna trembled, standing up, closing her eyes. Despite the terror, she took strength that Court would live, that he would go on, that maybe he would even avenge her, that Celeste would not win.
She was shackled and a chain was run through her wrists, with Homa behind her. Eight others were chained after her. She wondered why they had put her in the lead, but then she remembered her crime was the greatest. She limped forward, hobbling, with Homa helping her from behind.
"Go slow, child. None of us behind you are eager for the gallows."
Sienna frowned back at her. "I'm glad you're here with me, Homa."
"Child, I wish neither of us were here at all."
Climbing the stairs out of the dungeon was the hardest, her leg burning in protest, her bare feet scratching at the stone. Homa put an arm around her, helping her up. When they came through the door at the top, the bright afternoon sky burned their eyes. Sienna had to squint after being in the dark for so long. The ten prisoners were then stuffed into the back of a carriage and it began to roll away from the castle. The execution was to take place in the town square, for all to see.
"You know," Sienna whispered, "when I was younger, my mama used to tell me stories about princes and princesses and heroic escapes. And I keep thinking, I'm gonna be okay; I'm gonna be okay; I'm gonna be okay. Somehow, someone's gonna save me, a last minute rescue, like in the fairy tales. And for a minute, I thought Wellington was gonna save me, but he can't. And Court's all the way in the castle. And Betilly and Kathree, they're probably with the queen. And all the knights are dead. And that's it. There's no one left to save me."
"We shall have to hold out hope for your uncle."
Sienna giggled. "Thanks, Homa. I think that cheered me up."
"Me to
o, child."
* * *
Wellington's palms were sweating as he climbed the stairs through the castle, his heart pounding. He was carrying the prince's sword, his excuse for seeing his master. The castle soldiers looked at him and his weapon with suspicion, as if they knew his plan, as if they knew he was going to tell his master that the queen was plotting his death.
At last, he reached the throne room, finding the steward, asking him for an audience with the prince. An audience with his own prince! How preposterous.
"I shall alert him for you," the steward said, bowing his head and disappearing.
Wellington began pacing at the foot of the stair up to the golden thrones. The hall looked strangely foreboding so empty.
"Not going to go well," he mumbled to himself. "Even if I speak to the prince, he is sure to take action, try to save the girl, and in doing so, reveal he knows the queen's intentions. But upon learning this, she may order her guards to kill him. We cannot fight a castle full of soldiers. No, no, we cannot. We are so outnumbered, in such dread circumstances. Poor Sienna, off to the gallows, lost regardless of a win or a loss. How greatly a misstep I have taken."
The sound of the steward's footsteps drew him. "The prince welcomes you. Please come."
Wellington took a deep breath and then followed the steward. He was led to the state room. The steward held the door for him. Wellington was on his guard as he passed through, nervous that somehow, he may be forestalled, but to his relief, he found his prince inside.
"Your highness!"
"Wellington, what are you doing here?" Court asked. "I thought I would see you at the altar."
"Sir, I have an urgent matter to discuss with you."
"Oh?" Court said, straitening his white coat. "Am I quite underdressed?"
"No, sir. I spoke to the stable girl, and—"
"Wellington, I have no desire to hear anymore about Sienna," Court interrupted. "I wish to put that whole ugly business behind me."
"No, sir, there is a new development."
"What new development?" Court asked.
"Yes, what new development," a voice said.
Wellington wheeled around, finding the queen stepping in from the adjacent room.
"Your majesty!" Wellington said, bowing. "What are you doing here?"
"Pardon me?" Celeste said indignantly.
"Forgive me, your majesty," Wellington said. "I only meant it is untraditional for the bride and groom to see each other before the ceremony."
Celeste laughed a high laugh, her eyes narrow as they stared at Wellington. "You are correct, dear Wellington. But truth be told, I was so nervous over our soon coming marriage that I called on my dear groom for a visit."
Celeste walked over to Court, her white wedding dress flowing after her. She slipped her arm through his, holding his side.
"My dear prince and I do not need to stand on tradition when our love is so deep, do we, Court?"
"No, my love," Court said, stroking her cheek. "Truly, I wish only to hastily pass through the ceremony so I may call myself your husband."
"Oh, my dear prince, I think you are dreaming already of our wedding night. How coarse you are."
Court chuckled. "I am a knight, my precious Celeste, and so the respect and virtue of your womanhood is of paramount concern to me."
She giggled with him, covering her mouth with her hand, as she so often did. "My precious prince, I would kiss you for your manner, but I am saving that for the moment we are pronounced husband and wife."
"A moment I cannot wait for," he said, looking into her eyes.
She smiled and then she turned to Wellington. "But we are forgetting dear Wellington. What can we do for you, Wellington? And whatever are you doing with that sword? Have you come to slay me?"
She laughed as if she had made a joke, and Court chuckled as well.
Wellington gulped. "Actually, this is his highness' sword."
Court smiled. "Do you anticipate me needing my sword on my wedding day, Wellington? Come now, I've met the priest and he is a kind man."
"I should hope so, your highness, but you are a knight, and it is a knight's code that their sword remains at their side."
"I don't think he needs that," Celeste said.
"Truly, Wellington, there is no need."
"Please, your highness," Wellington said. "I must insist. It would do honor to the name of your father and your brother, as well as all the slain knights who have died for you."
Court bowed his head. "I suppose that is a Cross tradition."
"It is not an Avelot tradition," Celeste said, pinching her lips together. "I would prefer not to see a weapon on my wedding day."
Court looked back at Wellington. "I think we'll be all right without it, Wellington. I will honor my fellow knights by taking up the sword tomorrow and searching for that dragon once again, and never shall I cease until it is found."
Wellington swallowed, and then he secured the sword to his own belt. "Very well, your highness."
"If there is nothing further," Celeste said, "I would like to be alone with my fiancé for the few more moments we have left before our eternal union."
"I will see you at the altar, Wellington," Court said.
"Of course," Wellington said, bowing his head. "Please excuse me."
He turned to the door, opening it, but immediately took a step back, finding Vrine waiting.
"Madam Vrine."
"Wellington, there you are," Vrine said. "I was told you were coming up to see the prince and the queen."
"Yes, I needed to speak to them."
"Are you finished?" Vrine asked.
"I am."
"Then I will escort you to the wedding venue, for as the maid-of-honor, I shall be on your arm. Please, this way."
Vrine bowed to the queen and prince before turning to leave. Wellington followed her, staying at her side as she moved through the corridor. The tension was deep in his stomach, warning him to take action, to do something.
"Pardon me, Madam Vrine," Wellington said, "but if I may, I would like to speak to you alone about something."
"Regarding?"
"I spoke to Sienna, the stable girl who admitted to the most heinous act of slaying the queen."
"Did you?"
"Yes. And she said something peculiar to me."
"Go on?"
"Well, her words were rather sensitive. May I speak to you in private?"
She stopped there in the corridor, glancing at the soldiers around her. Wellington held his chin up high. If she called for them, he would have to draw this sword here and now.
"Very well," Vrine said. "Come with me to my chambers."
"Excellent," he said.
He followed her through another hallway. She reached a door requiring a key, which she used, leading him in. He stopped the moment he was through. The chambers were dark, with shelves and shelves of jars, some having animal heads, others with animal limbs, many with liquids that he could not fathom. In the center of the room was a great cauldron, glowing green. Vrine closed the door, locking it, and then she circled around him, stepping behind the cauldron, a mirror behind her back that stretched to the ceiling. Wellington could see his reflection over her shoulder.
"Now," she said, looking at him, "what did you learn from the stable girl?"
Wellington was breathing heavier. How was he to proceed? Should he draw on her, demand answers? Or should he try to talk his way through? Was this woman truly a witch? Could she really control a dragon?
"She said, and I found it unbelievable, perhaps even untrue, that you were a witch, that you could control a dragon, that you might call for it to slay the prince."
Vrine smirked. "Go on."
"And she revealed to me that she impersonated Princess Celeste during the masquerade ball, and that she did not kill the queen, that Princess Celeste herself did that."
"Is that all?"
"Actually—"
Vrine acted first. She grasped a vial of powder o
n the shelf nearest to her, throwing it down on the ground at Wellington's feet. Wellington was startled as it burst into green dust. His hand came to the pommel of the sword at his side, taking one step forward. Vrine's hands were already in the air.
"Vine, vine, grow and grow, and bind about the limbs of thy foe!"
The green dust turned to vines, slithering and wrapping around his legs, tripping him, spreading up his body, wrapping around his chest and pinning his arms to his side, the sword clutched in his hand. He struggled to lift his head. Vrine came around the cauldron, looking down on him.
"You foolish, little man. Did you really think you could challenge Sorceress Vrine?"
"The thought had crossed my mind," Wellington said.
She laughed, and then she picked up a few golden hairs from the shelf, tossing them into her cauldron. She dipped a ladle into the bubbling liquid, coming away with a scoop. Wellington had no idea what she intended to do with it. He was terrified she was going to pour it on him, but then she splashed it on the great mirror, the liquid running down.
"Mirror, mirror, reveal to me the one I seek,
"The face of the king's child, her spirit, oh, so meek."
Within the splashed liquid, an image appeared, the image of Sienna being led to the gallows. Vrine turned her head, smirking at him.
"Now, watch as the prince's precious little stable girl is hung until she is dead, and as you watch, quiver to know you will follow, and the prince will be on your heels this very night!"
Chapter Twenty-Two
A Wedding to Remember
"Where on earth is Wellington?" Court mumbled, looking to the doors of the castle church. A great stained-glass window filled the entire wall behind the altar. White pillars rose to the vaulted ceilings so very far overhead. Pews stretched before him, going on and on, all filled with guests, guests he did not even know, nobles from all over the kingdom.
"Your highness," the priest whispered. "Your best man remains absent. We cannot wait any longer. The queen is waiting."
Court took a deep breath and nodded. "Begin."
The priest bowed his head and then motioned to the orchestra. The music began to play. Court straightened his back, looking down the long aisle, waiting for his bride to appear. He smiled when he saw her. She had a white veil on now, taking a slow walk down the aisle, no one to escort her. Many had offered, but she wished to walk herself, honoring her departed father.