by Lea Doué
Lily’s body grew numb. If it weren’t for Gwen, she wouldn’t be standing.
Mara sat hard on the floor, and Holic fidgeted like he wanted to do something but wasn’t sure of his role right now.
Mother’s face went blank, all traces of anger gone. She was in the king’s study with official witnesses. And Runson. She couldn’t take back her words, even if she hadn’t meant them.
Runson’s expression wavered between anger and triumph. Any proposal he’d meant to make would be pointless, but if he discovered what was going on, Lily’s protests would no longer make any difference.
“Get out,” Mother whispered and walked to the window.
Gwen guided Lily to the door, and Neylan helped Mara to her feet.
Mother spoke without turning. “I hope, Lily, that you will honor your word to Lord Runson later today.”
Nodding was pointless, and Lily didn’t want to see Runson’s face. Neylan closed the door behind them, the officials staying to do whatever officials did when the queen made a royal decree. Runson stayed to make sure it was carried through, no doubt.
Lily didn’t know why Mother had called her into the study. Somehow, she’d gone from having to choose a husband in a few days to having no choice at all. Mother would have to keep her available as a choice for the lucky problem-solver. Could things be any more tangled? She wanted to scream so badly her throat ached.
The door clicked shut again, and she startled. Runson watched her and moved to follow. She shook her head to clear it, grabbed Holic’s arm, and hastened down the hall. The girls spread out to slow Runson’s pursuit.
Holic picked up on her intent. He maneuvered them expertly out of the castle, through the gates, and into the bustling city streets. He must have been exploring to know his way around so well. Or someone had given him a tour.
The smell of grilled meats and sweet rolls reminded her that she’d forgotten to pack lunch, and Holic had nothing. Not that she felt like eating. She’d make up for it during tea with Runson, stuff her face as an excuse for not talking. Let Runson think what he wanted.
Ahead, three oversized wagons created a bottleneck, clogging the street with revelers. She flinched every time an elbow or basket bumped her in the crush, finally focusing on two off-duty soldiers immediately ahead, in order to distract herself. One was short, the other broad and muscular, and both wore dragon-claw belts unique to the dragon guard.
Holic tensed. His face grew alarmingly close to the shade of his hair, and he scowled at the two men. Snatches of their conversation reached her through the din of the festival.
Shorty said something about, “the guard who’s been playing with the princesses again.”
Boulder wondered, “if he guards her in his time off.”
Shorty elbowed him and snorted. He mumbled something, and then, “. . .not quite right in the head since the sorcerer’s maze,” and, “to the country every day to hide . . .”
Wait a minute. Sorcerer’s maze? Did he mean the Weaver’s Maze? She’d never heard it called that.
“I hear the queen’s gonna foist her off on that goose prince, who’s too young to know better.” Boulder spoke with no care of being overheard. “She’s gonna put Princess Gwen in her place.”
Well, that was totally off base. Wasn’t it?
Maybe not. Anything was possible now that Mother had all but given one of them away with her decree. Lily wrapped her free arm around her stomach and tried to slow down, but the crowd pressed from behind.
Holic glanced from her to the guards. “Excuse me for a moment.” He tapped the men on the shoulders.
They turned, curious but wary.
“You were saying, sirs?”
Taking in Holic’s well-tailored clothes and his sword, the men stopped and backed up a few steps. The crowd parted and flowed around them.
She hadn’t expected Holic to confront them. She’d seen the desire to do just that in Eben’s eyes more times than she could count, but Eben’s job was her safety, not defending her honor.
Boulder’s eyes widened in fear, and his brows disappeared underneath his hair. He elbowed his friend hard and then yanked him down to his knee in what had to be the most painful display of allegiance she’d ever seen. He stuttered so many apologies at once that Lily couldn’t make out any of them.
“Stand up.” Holic could have been bidding them a good day.
They stood as quickly as they’d gone down.
And then they went down again.
The first soldier fell with a right hook, and the second with a left. A few people stopped to observe, but no one offered to help the men up.
Lily ducked her head, partly so that no one else would recognize her, and partly to hide the inappropriate smile fighting to become a laugh. She nearly broke the skin pinning her lips between her teeth. She was against violence, in theory, but lately she’d been wanting to hit something so badly that seeing Holic do it was almost as good as doing it herself. Especially after what those soldiers had said. Melantha was rubbing off on her.
Holic shook out his hands, but didn’t comment on his actions, reminding her of Eben again. He fixed his gaze straight ahead and offered her his arm, ignoring the curious onlookers, and they continued on their way.
Once they had passed into a less-crowded street, she glanced at him, a smile still playing at the edges of her lips.
He winked. “I’m sorry you had to witness that.”
She would have to tell the girls tonight. Melantha would laugh hysterically, like Lily wanted to do now. Hazel would be mortified outwardly, but she’d be secretly pleased that Holic had stood up for her sister.
Not only had he stood up for her, but he’d taken the sting out of the men’s words. It still hurt. She’d known rumors were flying, but she had been unprepared to come face to face with them in such a way. More rumors would circulate soon, once Mother’s decree went public.
All desire to laugh drained from her as quickly as it had come. Surely Eben had found Yarrow by now.
Chapter Sixteen
Clouds smeared the sky, stealing the sun bit by bit, liars with no intention of keeping promises. Feeling the weight of them, Lily leaned on Holic as they walked.
He hummed an unfamiliar marching song, increasing the tempo as they neared The Tree, and she concentrated on the rhythm, placing her feet in time with his like a dance. When she nudged him onto the path towards the goose field, he stopped, and the weight returned.
“I’m not sure what’s going on with you and your sisters,” Holic said, “or if it’s family business that I need to keep out of, but if I can help somehow, please let me know.”
She patted his hand in thanks.
“Not because I want . . . you know . . . the queen’s offer.” His face turned red again. She’d never seen Melantha, or Mara, or even Coral, the true redhead, blush as much as Holic did. “Not that I wouldn’t be honored to marry any one of you. Except the younger ones, of course. I mean . . . ”
Unintentionally, he’d uncovered her smile again. He really was adorable. She wished she could reassure him that she understood. Perhaps her own expression said more than she realized, because he grinned and shut up.
Orin met them at the road and acknowledged Holic with a nod. They must have met before. “Love what you’ve done to your hair, Eben.” His light words didn’t hide his concern. He knew a royal guard wouldn’t leave his post lightly. “What’s happened?”
Holic waited for Lily’s permission before explaining as they walked to the boulder. He didn’t mention the part where he introduced two soldiers to the streets of Eltekon.
“Who’s Yarrow?” Orin asked.
“Ivy’s bodyguard.”
“Ivy has a bodyguard? Why don’t any of the other princesses have bodyguards?”
“She . . . well, they . . . I don’t know.” Holic eyed True warily and sat next to Lily. “The point is that Yarrow used to be a sorcerer.”
“Whoa! What?”
“He’s a go
od man.”
Lily wondered what Yarrow had done to gain Holic’s trust. Most people never gave him a chance.
“So, Eben’s gone off to find this former sorcerer . . . why?”
“I don’t know.”
Orin turned to her. “Do you know?”
She shrugged and nodded at the same time. Maybe?
Holic sighed. “I wish I knew what was going on.”
“You and me both.” Orin took up his staff and began a mock sword fight with the tree.
Lily slid down the boulder into the grass and leaned back. She had no sketchbook, no food, and no answers to anything. She closed her eyes. True settled on her lap, and she stroked the goose’s feathers, only half listening as Holic recounted the queen’s new decree.
Orin smacked his staff hard against the tree. “Who would want to get a bride that way?”
“There’s one I can think of.”
Oh, please don’t say his name. She wanted to forget about her date with him later.
“Who?”
“Me.”
What! She wasn’t asleep. Did he think she was asleep?
Orin snorted, taking it as a joke.
“I’m serious,” Holic said. “If I can figure out what’s going on, I can decline the queen’s offer. She didn’t say the person had to marry one of the princesses. She said they could.”
Hazel would be impressed. Lily was impressed.
“Hadn’t thought of that.” A loud crack, and then two thuds sounded out in the field. Orin really didn’t like the idea of someone else marrying . . . a princess. “Count me in.”
“I think we can count on Eben, too. And Yarrow.”
“Even better.”
She squeezed her eyes closed tighter, and tears trickled down her cheeks. She didn’t deserve their friendship. She should solve her own problems, and she would, somehow. Still, she was grateful to know she wasn’t alone.
True woke her sometime later, scrabbling off her lap and hobble-flapping towards Eben.
“You’re wanted at the palace.” Eben’s voice was flat, controlled, but his mouth betrayed his displeasure. He knew about her date with Runson. He produced a handful of grapes and fed them to True as Lily brushed herself off. She could tell he’d found Yarrow by the way he avoided her gaze, but he wouldn’t talk about it where the others might hear. Not yet.
“I’m coming, too.” Using his bow in place of the broken staff, Orin rounded up the geese. Holic helped, now that he was off guard duty.
After they’d settled the geese into their sheds in the village, Holic asked, “You’re not bringing that goose to The Masked Ball, are you?”
“Ha. No.” Orin tucked True under his arm. “She is coming to the palace, though. She’ll stay in the kitchen gardens, and I’ll stay in a suite.”
Holic and Orin took their leave at the palace. Lily headed straight for the gardens, taking a shortcut down a side hall. She wanted to get this over with. Her stomach rumbled. And get some food.
“Aren’t you going to change?” Eben asked.
Lily plucked at her dress and twirled, raising her hands in a ta-da! at the end.
“You’re right. That’s the perfect outfit for tea with Runson.”
She smiled, delighted that he had guessed her meaning. If only he could read the other thoughts she had trouble putting into words.
Footsteps and voices sounded behind them. She tensed, grabbed Eben’s arm, and pulled him behind a heavy tapestry just ahead.
Runson hadn’t made it to the gardens, yet, either.
This was silly. They would be together in a few minutes, anyway.
She could barely see Eben, wrapped in the fabric as they were. She folded her hands at her chin, and Eben encircled her with his arms so that she rested against them instead of the wall. Her heartbeat drowned out the footsteps in the hall.
Eben’s chest rose and fell evenly. She held her breath. Runson’s yammering passed near their sanctuary and then faded into the distance.
They should probably get out from behind the tapestry. Instead, she turned her head a few inches and pressed her ear against Eben’s tunic. His heart kept time with hers, and his arms tightened around her shoulders. For the first time since she’d found the undergarden, she felt safe. She could tell him right now. He would say the words back, and everything would be okay. But this moment was an illusion. As soon as she stepped back into the hall, he would be her guard, obedient to the king and his calling. She couldn’t trust her sisters’ futures to a maybe.
She pushed against his chest almost imperceptibly, and he let go. He swept the tapestry aside, and they blinked like startled owls in the sun. She couldn’t ask him about Yarrow, but he might talk, now that no one was around.
Except that, once again, footsteps overtook them, soft but unmistakable: Melantha. And someone else keeping pace.
Melantha rounded the corner with Orin in tow, True still tucked securely into his side. He looked bewildered and dazzled all at once.
And no wonder. Melantha had poured what little there was of her into a pale yellow dress with wispy sleeves and a flowing skirt, reminding Lily of a delicate freckled flower. Beneath her circlet, braids within braids hung down her back, threaded with golden ribbons. A thin gold band defined her waist.
Melantha grabbed True and passed her off to Eben, her sleeve falling off her shoulder. She swiped it back into place. “There. Now Orin can escort us both properly.”
Orin hastened to offer them both an arm. “We’re crashing your tea party. Hope you don’t mind.”
Fighting a grin, she shook her head, both amused and concerned. She welcomed their company, but Runson would not be pleased.
“If I’d known you weren’t going to change,” Melantha said, “I wouldn’t have bothered to dress up.”
She was teasing, of course. She’d done it to take attention off Lily, an enormous gesture on her part.
“Are you kidding? You’re amazing!” Orin offered the compliment unabashedly.
Melantha’s face reddened, which made her appear sunburned under the freckles. Orin didn’t seem to notice.
When they reached the butterfly gazebo, Runson seethed at a table that had been set for a party rather than an intimate tea for two. He caught sight of them and stood, nearly toppling his chair. His jaw tensed, and he folded his arms, refusing to greet them with a bow. He couldn’t send them away. Even the scruffy goose boy outranked him.
Melantha let go of Orin and swept into the gazebo, making a show of inspecting the table and choosing a seat. “This is cozy.” She turned to Lily. “Just like your date with Holic?”
“Not amusing,” Runson muttered.
All of this could have been avoided with a little communication. But Tharius hadn’t meant for Lily to succeed.
She stepped quickly to Runson’s side and waited for him to help her into her seat, hoping to placate him enough that he wouldn’t complain and upset Mother again. She smiled, but he didn’t return it. He held her chair and then stood stiffly until Melantha was seated.
Viv emerged from the foliage to pour the tea. Eben gently placed True on the stones before taking a position by the gazebo entrance. With a subdued honk, True chased a bee into some hydrangea bushes. The goose wouldn’t wander far.
“Was that necessary?” Runson wrinkled his nose at the vanishing bird.
“What?” Orin feigned ignorance. “She doesn’t usually go after bees. I suppose she wanted to keep our fair ladies safe.”
With nothing else to do, Lily shooed a butterfly and piled strawberries and cream onto her plate. Orin kept Runson occupied with talk about his brothers, his sister, and the types of butterflies he’d seen in his travels. Melantha asked questions and told a few stories, as well.
Runson stuffed his face in sullen silence.
Lily was finishing her third scone when Hazel and Holic arrived. As usual, Hazel outshone everyone. Her dress matched the brooding clouds, its silver embroidery winking in the spotty sunlight. Like Melantha
, she wore her circlet. They must have planned this to remind Runson not to mess around with the royal family. What was his power next to theirs?
Honestly, it was quite impressive. His family had few true allies, but they were very rich.
Runson’s knuckles whitened as he gripped his teacup, and brown liquid splashed over the edge as he set it down.
“Apologies for interrupting,” Hazel said. “I need to collect my sisters so we can get ready for The Masked Ball.”
“Of course.” He stood and bowed, knowing when he was outnumbered.
Lily rose, and he grabbed her arm before she passed by. His nails dug into her skin.
“The queen will hear about this,” he whispered with a whine in his voice. He didn’t see Holic approach from behind.
Eben turned to face them with his hand on his sword. The thunder in his eyes made Runson’s anger look like a temper tantrum.
Holic grabbed Runson’s wrist and squeezed until he let go of her. “I don’t think she will. Or I will hear about it.”
Eben’s anger didn’t abate, but he looked at Holic with respect. And something else. Jealousy?
He had feelings for her. She knew it. But what good did it do, if he wouldn’t admit it?
Runson sneered at Holic before speaking to Lily. “You’ll save me the first dance, of course.”
“You’ll excuse her, of course,” Holic said. “The princess has promised the first dance to me.” He pushed Runson down into his seat hard enough that it almost toppled backwards.
She took Holic’s offered arm, wilting with relief. Hopefully, the veiled threat would keep Runson from running to Mother with news of the disaster.
Melantha fetched True from the bushes, heedless of the dirt that spattered her dress. Orin beamed as if the goose had just sprinkled her with diamonds. The two left towards the kitchen gardens.
Holic escorted Lily and Hazel to their tower and bid them goodbye until the evening. Still on guard, Eben positioned himself along the wall. Before the door closed, his eyes met Lily’s briefly, full of words he wouldn’t say.
Gwen marched Lily straight to the bathing room. “Please scrub off all the goose stench.”