The Goblin King

by Shona Husk

  She typed in the code and held her breath. The house went silent. Her heartbeat was too loud and seemed to echo off the walls. She stood alone in the foyer of her parent’s house. The house she’d expected to leave when she married, but come back to visit with her husband and kids. Family dinners with Matt, Amanda, and Brigit. Steve had never been in the picture. She’d never thought of him as her husband. He’d just been there like a boyfriend of convenience, meeting her father’s approval while she studied law.

  When had she outgrown him?

  Maybe if she’d loved Steve more, he wouldn’t have needed to steal the money to feel worthy. She wandered into the dining room. She could see Roan at the table. Could see him talking to her father. Telling tales of ancient battles. He’d smile at her and wink, their secret that he’d actually been there. He’d be friendly with Matt, but he’d never forgotten the danger Matt’s drunken friend had placed her in. If not for that party, she would never have met Roan. If he hadn’t helped her then and scared away Matt’s friend, Ben, she would never have called him again after Steve’s betrayal.

  What good was meeting a frog-prince when a kiss wouldn’t break the curse? Eliza crossed her arms and laid her head on the table. What point had any death served? Only Steve had benefited, using her grief to bind her to him. Even that had come back to punish him.

  Nothing had worked out the way it should have. She was supposed to be a lawyer, the Coulter in Gunn and Coulter. Her life had skidded so far off the track she didn’t know how to find her way back. Without Roan she was lost. After tonight, no matter how much she called he wouldn’t answer.

  Another useless death.

  Her breath became thick like a wet towel. Tears clouded her vision, then spilled on the table. Fat drops splashed her scarred arms as they broke on the table. But she didn’t care. It was better to get it out now rather than later. There was no sense in making Roan’s death harder than it had to be for him. If it were her in his boots, she doubted she would have the strength of will to go through with it. He had a gold heart and titanium balls.

  She choked on her tears, coughed, and sat up. He wasn’t dead, yet. Eliza wiped her face with her hands, then her wet fingers on her pajamas. No more crying. She tried to shake off the misery that had tied itself to her limbs. But the knots had swollen with her tears. She knew it would be weeks until they dried enough for her to live again. Months until she could unravel them. Years until the chaff marks faded and the wound was nothing more than a memory that twinged and tugged when the weather turned. Without Roan, she would just be going through the motions of living.

  Eliza pushed back her hair. She had things to do. She made a mental list. Ring the security firm. Ring Gunn and make sure everything was okay. She should cancel her leave since there wasn’t going to be a honeymoon. Being back at work would give her something to do. She would be living each day, only to die each night when Roan haunted her dreams instead of being her dream.

  For there to be no honeymoon there had to be no wedding. She had to call WPD and cancel the society drama she never wanted. A church filled with celebrities she knew through her mother. Kiss, kiss, is this the right place to be seen? Or politicians keeping ties, asking if she intended to keep her father’s legacy alive and stand as a candidate.

  All she’d ever wanted was her friends and family to attend. There were precious few left. Many had edged away as Steve had pushed and inserted his own people. Cardboard stand-ins he thought would enhance his standing.

  Calls she didn’t want to make. She picked up the phone and it rung in her hand, lighting up, demanding she answer. No comment hovered on her tongue.

  “Hello?”

  “Ms. Coulter.” Not the press. The voice was too slick and sure of itself.

  She responded, guard up. “Yes.”

  “Andrew Timms. I’m representing Steven Slade.”

  And so it began. Steve would’ve had a lawyer ready to meet him at the police station. He wouldn’t have breathed in front of the police without recommendation.

  “I’m not sure how I can be of assistance.” I don’t want to be of assistance. That man may have destroyed my law firm.

  “I’m sure you’re aware that to be released from custody Mr. Slade requires surety bail.”

  Eliza paused with her mouth open. This had to be a prank call. Not even Steve would be so audacious as to ask her for bail money. Stunned silence was all she could manage in response.

  “Ms. Coulter, without bail Mr. Slade could spend six months in jail awaiting trial.”

  The breath she’d been holding escaped. Six months of knowing exactly where Steve was. He wouldn’t come knocking on her door or ringing at all hours. There was no way a judge was going to let him walk with time spent. On the flip side it was a first offense so he would only get two years tops with parole after one. She would have one year to rebuild and move on.

  One year would have to do. He may not be going to jail for the five years of torment he put her through, of never being safe or sure of herself, but she would take the reprieve and be grateful he’d get something. The other inmates would ensure he’d never forget.

  Eliza smiled but kept her voice cool. “I’m sure he’ll be just fine.” Lawyers were never fine in jail. He’d threatened her enough times, Steve deserved a taste. “Good-bye, Mr. Timms.”

  She hung up before he could argue the point. Now she had to call Gunn. If anyone posted bail for Steve, the firm was done. And she was sure he had at least one supporter who would help him. One rotten apple poisoned the whole barrel. This would shake even her father’s old clientele. She tapped the phone against her lip.

  She needed to know if this went beyond Steve and was, she shuddered, endemic. If Steve’s cruel taunt about her father’s dealings had been the truth, there would be nothing left to save out of the ashes and shattered illusions that were her life. A phone call wouldn’t cut it. She had to go in to show who owned the firm.

  Chapter 18

  Eliza kicked off her shoes. They rolled across the foyer and landed upside down against the wall. No one demanded they be moved or placed out of sight lest someone should see the abandoned heels and be offended. For half a second, she considered picking them up and placing them neatly to one side. Then she turned her back. If a shoe lay on the floor and no one was there to see it, was it really untidy?

  Outside of her house, a few reporters still hovered looking for a line. If she said no comment one more time today, she was going to scream. She flopped onto the sofa and flicked on the TV. As a second thought, she swung her legs up so her feet rested on the arm of the cream sofa. It was hers and if she wanted to put her feet on it, she could. The TV babbled on about Steve, the implications of his arrest, and the possible depth of the fraud. Eliza muted the sound. There was nothing new to hear. She reached for her cell phone. There were four missed calls. One from Amanda, the others were from WPD.

  She called Amanda, delaying calling the overbearing wedding planner.

  “Eliza, have you been following the news?” A true Amanda-style greeting—straight to the point.

  “I am the news.” Eliza waved the remote at the television. “Look, there’s me on channel seven going to work.” She shook her head. Really, did anyone care? If she hadn’t been Bill and Sandra Coulter’s daughter, no one would have cared. She wouldn’t have rated a second mention. This whole event would have been page ten news. Not the leading story.

  “How bad’s the office?”

  “Disaster zone. The police executed their warrants. Steve’s office was stripped. My desk, stripped.” But their warrants had only extended to Steve. The other lawyers weren’t being touched. The police weren’t digging deep. And she could guess why. The current state premier wouldn’t want his party tainted. There would be pressure coming down on the police to close Steve’s case without dragging the Coulters and the party into it.

  Eliza closed her eyes. But the day replayed on her eyelids. No rest for the associates of criminals. “Several of
the younger lawyers are resigning.”

  “Trying to escape without taint.”

  Too late for that. Client confidence was gone. Some were already talking legal action. Her pulse shook, her skin had alternated between hot and clammy all day. One hit after another. She wasn’t rolling with the punches. She was on the ground being kicked in the ribs. She took a breath and released the worst news. “Gunn is retiring.”

  “Shit.”

  Neither of them spoke. It was Gunn who had held the firm together after her father died. It was Gunn who had encouraged her to resume her studies while Steve argued against it. Now Gunn was telling her to walk away and not look back. Find another career. Eliza massaged her temples one-handed. Everything she knew was rupturing, expelling the venom that had held her paralyzed. Once it was spilled she would heal. The firm wouldn’t.

  “What are you going to do?”

  Let it go.

  Fighting to keep the firm alive would take everything she had, and more. She had to let her father go. Let his dream die. But she couldn’t bring herself to say it. The words balled in her throat and stuck to the breath she tried to take. She coughed to keep from sobbing. If she started to cry now, she might never stop. Today she would lose more than her law firm.

  At the edges of her mind, Roan had never been far away. For all she knew he could have lost the fight and already be gone. Her final night with him stolen by goblins.

  “Is there anything you need me to do, Eliza?”

  “No.” There was nothing to do. Everything was in play. All the evidence was on the table. Only the sentence waited to be dealt. The edge of the sword brushed the hairs on her neck.

  The only light in her day had been the news that Steve was to be remanded in custody until trial. The magistrate had thought there was a good chance he’d tamper with evidence or try to flee. Mr. Timms’s earlier call had been preemptive, trying to secure ties with the ex-fiancée to keep his client out of jail. If she’d been Steve’s lawyer, she probably would have done the same, although she’d have never slept at night putting the guilty back on the streets. Eliza changed topic the way a learner driver grinds gears.

  “I have to ring WPD. Call it all off.”

  “You haven’t done that yet? That would have been the first thing I’d have done.”

  Maybe she should’ve done it sooner, but she’d had other things on her mind and Amanda didn’t know the full story. Amanda knew nothing of Roan. Aside from a few details, neither did she. He spoke little of his past, less about his previous lovers. If she knew more, would she love him less? Did she need to know more when they had so little time left?

  “You know what she’s like. This is going to be a major production. It will be all about her.” Eliza forced a light laugh like it no longer mattered. It did. Every tie she cut to her old life snapped back and stung. Walking away wasn’t as easy as it seemed.

  “Have the guests started arriving?”

  “I would think so.” There were quite a few coming from the eastern states, and with the wedding only three days away there were bound to be a few early arrivals.

  “If you need help ringing people…”

  Eliza shook her head. “I have to pay WPD in full. She can do it. Ninety percent of the people I don’t know except through family connections. They aren’t my friends.”

  “Well I feel very special that you told me it was over in person. Brigit will be devastated. She was looking forward to being the flower girl.”

  “I’ll have a party when Steve gets sentenced, so she can wear the dress and throw rose petals.” Even as she said it, she knew she wouldn’t give Steve that much attention. No. Walking away meant not looking over her shoulder.

  Amanda laughed. “It just won’t be the same.”

  Brigit was expecting a wedding.

  “Well, unless I can find a new groom at short notice.”

  “What about the guy you met?”

  Eliza wound a lock of hair around her finger. What could she say? That fantasy was never going to come true. “It was a fling. He has other commitments.”

  “Is he married?” Amanda whispered the question.

  Eliza could imagine her turning her back to Brigit and cupping the phone.

  “No, he doesn’t live here. Long-distance relationships never work out.” Not strictly a lie, but it tasted wrong on her tongue. She wanted to tell someone about Roan just so he could exist beyond her dreams and be a part of her life if only in memory.

  “Um, you could always move. Not that I’m trying to get rid of you, but sometimes you’ve got to take a jump.”

  Amanda knew all about jumping. Eloping with Matt before anyone could discourage them against marriage and a baby when they were both at university. Their love had been short and intense. But at least Amanda had been loved. Roan didn’t love her, and even though he was trying, he couldn’t.

  Eliza sighed. “Not this time. Trust me, it was never built to last, but I wouldn’t take it back.” Not a single second no matter how bad the memories bruised.

  Brigit called out in the background.

  “I’m being summoned for homework help. I’ll call you later.”

  “I’m having an early night. Catch you tomorrow.” If she had the power, tomorrow would never come. It would be night forever.

  “Okay. See you.” The line died.

  One more call, then she could go to bed and find the safety in her sleep that had eluded her during the day.

  WPD picked up on the first ring. The conversation went as badly as expected. To a listener, like the police if her lines were still tapped, and she was sure they had been, it was Donna who was the bride with a black dress and no wedding to attend.

  “If you cancel now, you will have to pay. If you reschedule, everyone will understand what with the court case.” WPD’s voice got higher with each word. This was supposed to be her breakout wedding, the one that would put her back among society. It had done that, but for all the wrong reasons.

  Eliza wanted to snap, but instead she broke the news as gently and as simply as she could. “Donna. It’s over. We split up. There will be no wedding.”

  Silence. Paper shuffled in the background. She could just see WPD reaching for a paper bag to stave off hyperventilating. “Donna?”

  “And the cake, and the reception, and the church, and the musicians?”

  “Cancel them. I’ll have to pay for the reception given the late notice, so give the dinner to charity.”

  “What?” Donna said in a pitch more suited to dogs than humans.

  Eliza stretched her fingers and kept her voice calm. “Let St. Vinnie’s take the food.”

  “What? You can’t do that.”

  “Why not? I have to pay. The food can be cooked and donated.” Steve would hate that. Eliza smiled. Some good could come out of this mess. “And give the cake to a couple who needs it.” Someone should get to enjoy the white-chocolate-black-lace-five-tier monster.

  Donna said nothing. But Eliza could hear her lips moving. The horror of the aborted wedding sinking in. She pushed on not waiting for agreement.

  “And if you could notify all the guests that would great.”

  “Are you sure about this? It seems like such a sudden change. Do you need some time to think? Maybe I should talk to Steven.”

  Eliza fisted her hand. If these instructions were coming from Steve, Donna would have jumped through hoops to please. “He’s in jail, awaiting trial, but go for it. He’ll tell you same thing. There will be no wedding.”

  Even though she’d never wanted to marry Steve, canceling the wedding wasn’t as much fun as it should have been. It was like stripping away old bandages only to find the wound unhealed and weeping. She didn’t bleed for the loss of Steve but for the loss of what might have been had the curse broken. If the curse had broken, she could be marrying Roan. She wanted the fairy tale—the fairy tale wedding didn’t matter. She sighed. All delusions must end.

  Her voice tightened. “Thank you, Donna. N
one of this was expected, and I realize it has put you in an awkward position.”

  Donna became almost human. “Not at all. Just keep me in mind for when you do decide to marry.”

  Not a chance in hell. If she’d been more active in the planning, then maybe it wouldn’t have gotten so out of hand. It wasn’t Donna’s fault none of this was what she wanted.

  “Sure, you’ve been so helpful,” she said, hoping she sounded honest.

  “I’ll be in touch, Ms. Coulter.”

  And it was done.

  No more wedding.

  With a grunt she peeled herself off the sofa. She couldn’t waste any more of the evening. What if she got to the Summerland and found it empty?

  Eliza set the alarm and ran upstairs. She stopped at the door to the master bedroom. Instead of rewiring the security system, she should cut out the last piece of Steve. Gut the room and start again. Redecorate, paint, and carpet and tile over every memory he’d ever created. She nodded to herself. She would need the distraction. Tomorrow she would begin building a new life, starting by reclaiming the bedroom.

  She brushed her teeth and showered in record speed, then slipped into the white sundress. A million tiny butterflies fought to escape her chest. She swallowed to keep them in. She had to find out if he was waiting.

  If the Goblin King was still in residence.

  Sleep came easily. Eliza barely lay down and closed her eyes when she opened them to the eternal summer dreamland. She’d expected a battle from her body for going to bed too early and for wearing the wrong thing. She ran her hands over her stomach and the thin, white fabric of the sundress. The breeze teased, lifting the edges of the dress. The grass tickled her legs like a sweeping green ocean in which she could easily drown.

  “Roan.”

  On the horizon storm clouds formed, bubbling out of nothing. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Once he arrived the colors would fade. Once he was gone there would be no color worth seeing.