"Right. How do we get in?"
I look around. This all seems modern to me. It's a loading dock, connected by a tunnel to the castle, or so I would expect.
"I will lead the way. Hmmm." Konstantin looks at me. "You are maybe being a problem."
"Me? Why?"
"Mother knows what you look like, from the tabloid news paper."
He pronounces "news paper" as two clear words.
"So?"
"So she will be making all the guards have your picture so they will not let you in."
"Why would she even expect me to show up?"
"Mother is very cautious. Stranger things have happened. After all, you are here now."
"So I need a disguise. You're telling me I need a disguise."
"I am telling you so, yes."
Well, shit.
I need to conceal my appearance somehow. Hide.
I look at Aheahe, and Akele, at Thorlief, at the driver, who gives me a blank, smiling look but is mostly paying attention to Konstantin.
We all look at the back of the van, where Quincy is wedged in with his mascot suit.
Ana
I read the article. I read what Professor Grandolf said, I looked at the pictures, and I believed it. I believed Jason had betrayed me, stolen my heart and slept with another woman while he was making me feel so wonderful and alive.
Now that I am here, I am not so sure. I knew she had something for him, some perverse lust, but I never knew him to look twice at her. How could he be so totally loving and giving with me and betray me? How?
I scoot along the cold stone floor and sit against the side of the bed and try to weep, as if weeping all the salt water from my body will give me an answer. Perhaps they'll find me here as a dried-out husk and take me down to the crypts of my ancestors and put me away and I won't have to marry anyone I don't want to or be a queen or any of it.
The seamstress comes in an hour later. I rise mechanically, like a puppet, and stand there with my arms out while she measures me and fits me with a wedding gown.
After she's gone I curl up on the bed and wish I could sink through it, down through the castle and into nothing.
I hear a faint buzzing sound and roll over. I thought I'd left my phone behind. I barely remember this morning—or was it yesterday?—between the jet lag and the confusion of leaving America and flying here.
Here, not home.
The phone buzzes again. It feels like my limbs are made of cement, like my head weighs a thousand pounds. I fumble with it, almost knock it on the stone floor. That would surely destroy it.
Somehow I manage to recover it and roll over, sighing.
Jason: Ana I'm on my way there.
Ana: No you're not.
Jason: Ana it's all a lie I never slept with grandolf.
Ana: I saw you coming out of the locker room with her.
Jason: You saw a picture of her coming out.
Jason: She was in there with me.
Jason: She followed me in.
Jason: She exposed herself into me.
Jason: She tried to talk me into having sex with her.
Jason: I told her to go away and got out of there and she followed.
Jason: I would never touch her I hate her.
Jason: You're the only woman in my life Ana.
Jason: You're all I care about.
Jason: I'm coming.
Jason: Don't marry the other guy I'm coming I swear please.
Jason: Answer me.
Jason: Say something.
Jason: Ana please.
I bite my lip.
It all floods through me. The last week feels like a lifetime, like it was the true world and what surrounds me here is just a dream. I tap my answer into my phone.
Anastasia: Hurry.
I don't know how much longer he has.
Jason: I'm coming baby.
I stare at the words on my screen and know I have to hide the phone. Mother can't find out. I run to the parapet and throw the phone over, and watch it sail off into the sea until it becomes too small to see. I think I catch a glimpse of its computery guts as it smashes open on a rock, but it may just be my imagination.
I stumble back into the room and flop on the bed. I spin every scenario I can in my head. I must delay, refuse, try and worm my way out of this somehow.
Or I could just refuse. Truly refuse. She says she'll have me held down, but does she mean it? Can't she see how mad all of this is?
I want it to end. I want to go home!
When the seamstress returns with the dress and my maids of honor, I stand up and let them dress me, listlessly moving my arms and legs to put on the dress. They drape a veil over my head, and a pair of ladies-in-waiting carry my tiara on a pillow. I haven't worn it in years, and when they put it on my head it scratches my skin like claws and its weight pushes my chin down. I hate it.
To one side I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror on my wedding day in my wedding gown.
I will refuse. I will not put on the ring. If Mother thinks she can force me through this farce, she truly does not know me at all. Ana the little girl is gone. I am a woman now, and I make my own choices. I will abdicate. I will throw it all away and run home with Jason where I belong and….
And she can force this on my dear brother. I can't put the weight down, only pass it. Tears well in my eyes. How can I do that to him?
A maze. I am trapped in an impossible maze. Every path leads to some terrible fate. What am I going to do?
Become my mother. I can already feel it creeping up on me.
The hour is at last at hand. Mother apparently doesn't want any stunts. My sisters are not going to be in the wedding procession, it would appear. For all the pomp this will inevitably involve, it's clearly a hasty, rushed affair. No press have been invited, no dignitaries. Only the local families of note will be in attendance to watch me seal my marriage.
I walk as slowly as I dare, tearing every moment out of my mother's grip. I will breathe in every free breathe I can before I surrender to my fate.
No. I will not surrender. Jason is coming. I can feel him the way I can feel the sea breeze or the salt water pounding on the rocks. I can feel him like the sea turning under my feet.
As we approach the Great Hall, I clutch my wedding bouquet until my hands bleed and appreciate the irony of the situation. I am a captive princess about to be wed to a man I loathe and my knight is coming to save me.
The question becomes, will he arrive in time?
In truth I never spent much time dreaming of a fantasy fairy-tale wedding. Knowing that the whole purpose of my wedding was to breed, or rather "to be bred" as Mother always put it, soured my feelings toward it. When I was a little girl, I had only a vague understanding of where children came from, of course. When I grew older the concept fascinated and horrified me at the same time, especially the assumption that I would be subjected to that experience with a man of my mother's choosing, not mine.
My chance at any input into this decision is gone. The valets open the doors to the Great Hall, and I shuffle awkwardly along the red carpet, feeling the weight of the castle above my head as I pass through the doors.
The guests are few and the wedding party is nonexistent. There's a priest at the foot of the throne, standing with Mortimer. Revulsion chills my stomach as I see him, and I freeze in place.
"Move," Mother orders. "I don't want to have you dragged to the altar."
"I won't do this."
"You will. Go."
She gives me a short, sharp shove, and I walk very slowly through the hall. There is no music, no effort at even a pretense that this is a joyful moment. Mother takes the position my father should, walking me up to the altar. The closer I get, the more naked the lust in Mortimer's eyes. I'll stab him before I take off this gown in his presence.
"You can make me walk up there, but you can't make me say a vow."
"I said the same thing. You know it's the right thing to do. The line must
continue. You're going to marry him; you don't need to love him."
I shudder at the matter-of-fact way she says it.
Her voice is a cold whisper. "Don't try to convince me you had some illusion that your father cared for me, or me for him."
"That's awful," I tell her. "I truly feel sorry for you."
"I'm sure you do. Now get up there."
I stand next to Mortimer and I can feel him peeling the layers of my clothing off in his imagination already. I pointedly look anywhere but at him and hold the flowers in front of my chest like a shield. I'll rake his face with the thorns if he tries to kiss me.
Hurry up, Jason.
I hear a commotion outside the doors. Mother looks on uneasily and says something curt to an aide in a low voice, sending the man running off. She looks at the priest.
"Get started."
The little old man clears his throat.
"We gather here today in the sight of—"
"The important parts only," Mother snaps.
The old man sighs and looks at me with an apologetic shrug.
"We are here today to seal the union in holy matrimony of Mortimer Andrew Karl Victor de Kupp and Princess Anastasia Carolien Jacobina Katrien De Vries."
He shifts uncomfortably and looks at Mortimer.
"Do you—?"
"I definitely take her."
Mother glares at him. "Shut up and don't interrupt."
Mortimer rolls his eyes.
"Do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?"
"I do." He grins at me.
"Do you, Princess Anastasia, take—?"
"No."
He blinks. "What?"
"I said no."
I throw the flowers down and rip my veil off, and throw it aside.
"I do not and I will not. Do you all hear me? I'm not marrying this slimy eel. I love another."
"Anastasia!" Mother hisses, clenching her fists.
There is more noise outside.
The doors buckle inward, straining against the lock. They buckle again and crack open with a mighty boom, swinging to boom again against the wall behind them. Jason's friends Akele and Aheahe run into the room, carried by the momentum of shouldering the doors open, and fall into three-point stances.
Between and around them, more players flood into the room. Mother screams orders at the top of her lungs, but she's drowned out by the reverberating thunder of drums and brass instruments as the De la Warr Knights marching band stomps into the Great Hall, blasting Stars and Stripes Forever from their instruments.
The cheerleaders come in next and start forming a pair of human pyramids, chanting. Between the two groups of cheerleaders, the De La Warr Knight—the foam-rubber mascot—comes surging through the room, up the red carpet.
When a pair of guards grab at him, he spins and shoulders them aside with wobbly grace, his big foam head teetering on the verge of falling off.
As he runs up the steps to meet me, he rips the foam helmet and head off all at once. Jason grins from between the great big pauldrons of the foam-rubber armor and turns to Mortimer.
Then he punches Mortimer in the face. The blow sends him sprawling, and he turns and scoops me up in his arms. I leap off my feet onto his chest to wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him. He spins in a circle, and one of my shoes goes flying.
Konstantin runs in, sword in hand, and takes up position next to Jason, the tip of his blade hovering inches from Mortimer's nose.
"You, stay down," he says, beaming a cocky grin at me.
Then he winks.
My mother looks like she's about to explode, like her hair is on the verge of bursting into flames. Any redder, and smoke will begin pouring out of her ears.
Jason ignores them all and cups my cheeks in giant foam gauntlets.
"Ana, listen to me. It's all a lie. I never slept with Grandolf, I swear on my mother's grave. I'd never touch her. You're the only girl I want. I love you, do you hear me? I love you with all my heart. If you have them arrest me and throw me out of here, I'll still love you. If you marry that… person who I have no idea who he is… I'll still love you, now and forever and ever."
He lowers me to the ground and falls to his knees.
"Marry me."
I throw my arms around his neck and pull his head to my chest.
"I knew. In my heart I knew. I'm sorry I ever doubted you, Jason. Can you forgive me?"
"There's nothing to forgive, honey. As long as you take me back, nothing else matters."
Akele stands up.
"Okay, everybody! It's time! Do the thing!"
The marching band starts up again, and the song sounds vaguely familiar. When the cheerleaders and the football team break out in song in unison, I break out in a silly grin.
"Heroes," this song is called.
Jason yanks the costume off, dropping the big padded chest and arms to the floor, and steps up to me in jeans and a t-shirt. For some reason, or maybe no reason, we begin to dance, swaying and holding each other. I kiss him hard, and then again, and again, and again.
"I will. I will marry you."
"You," Mother starts. "You can't—"
"I can. If you won't let me marry the man of my choice, I will abdicate and do it anyway."
Mother turns even redder, if that is possible. She clenches her hands into sharp-knuckled fists, and her jaw trembles as if she means to rip Jason's throat out with her teeth.
"Your Grace," a familiar voice says.
Thorlief steps past me and Jason and stands between us and Mother. I tense as I realize she's formally banished him. She could have him executed for coming here like this.
He takes three steps up to her, looming over her. I never remember her looking so small, even though she’s taller than I am. Thorlief looks enormous and imposing with his shaggy, gray hair and salt-and-pepper beard.
"What is the meaning of this?"
"Forgive me," he says.
Then he takes hold of her arms and bends to kiss her, hard. Her eyes fly open wide, and then, to my absolute shock, her eyelids flutter and press shut. The color drains from her face, only to surge back.
The kiss lasts a long time, and the band's music dies down. The entire throne room goes silent.
When he draws back, Mother's cheeks glitter with tears, and her makeup has begun to run.
She takes a step back and touches her lips, as if she'd forgotten and then suddenly remembered that she has them. For a moment, the shock and confusion on her face makes her look very young. She could be my sister, not my mother.
"Why?"
Thorlief clears his throat.
"Why did you never tell me?"
"It was not my place. Queens do not…."
Mother looks at him, and at me, and begins to sob and shake in place.
I break from Jason's embrace and take a halting step toward her, tears welling in my own eyes. It's as though I'm meeting a stranger and yet….
Some part of me always knew there was something else inside her. Under the iron and ice. She was so afraid that anyone would see it that she buried it far beneath the surface. How the pains of that must have gnawed at her.
"Wasted," she mumbles, staring at him. "All this time wasted."
"Mother—"
"I'll handle her," Thorlief says, gently. "She will send for you when she is ready."
I stop in place and watch him guide her out of the throne room.
"What now?" Jason says.
"Back to your quarters," Konstantin says. "Quickly."
"This affront will not go unanswered," Mortimer snarls, from the floor.
Konstantin rolls his eyes and jabs him in the shoulder.
"Did you just threaten my sister's royal person? Did you?"
"No—"
"Shut up."
Mortimer claps his mouth closed and his head falls back on the stone floor.
"Go, Ana."
I take Jason by the arm and lead him out of the hall, back to my rooms. When w
e're inside, he starts unlacing my gown.
"We can't now."
"I know, I just don't want to see you in this again until you're wearing it for me."
I let him strip me down to my shift and change my shoes. He laces a much simpler gown up my back, and I sit on the bed and let him undo my braid.
"We need to find you something else to wear."
He snorts. "If you insist."
"You can't meet the queen in jeans."
"I just met her in a mascot costume."
I laugh. "I meant it. I'm sorry I doubted you. You never slept with that vile creature. I know it."
"I'm glad to hear you say that. I never would. There's only you, Ana. Only you."
"Lie with me."
Jason sprawls on the bed, and I curl up with him and wait to find out if I'm still a princess or not.
Chapter Seventeen
Anastasia
There is a knock at our door.
I knew this would come. I've spent the last hour pacing the room, waiting. I've changed out of my wedding gown into a simple, plain blue wool dress.
Jason took great interest in watching me change, of course. He's stripped off the knight costume, and I sent for something to be found for him to wear. Some of my father's old things fit him, if a bit uncomfortably. The white shirt is too tight around his muscular chest.
I open the door and find a servant waiting outside.
"Her Grace the queen requests your presence. Both of you."
I look at Jason and sigh before I remember I have to translate for him.
"What does she want?"
"We'll see." I shrug. "Come."
I offer my hand. He takes it, wrapping his warm palm and fingers around mine. I feel a little taller, a little stronger, walking with him. The walls aren't so close, the air isn't so cold, the weight of stone over my head not so heavy.
Mother's announcement still has me stunned, swimming in my own head. I lead Jason through the castle to her chambers, in the tall tower that overlooks the rest of the fortress. We pass her guards and turn up a wide spiral stair, and find a pair of heavy oaken doors standing open.
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