29
Our Duty
Katy kicked off the sheets and rose from her bed with a groan. The pillows and blankets that had seemed so soft and warm her first night in the castle were like shackles now as they wrapped around her legs and trapped her in their heat. Attempting to sleep was of no use, particularly since she knew the sun would be appearing over the horizon at any moment.
She sat down at the writing desk beside one of the tall windows and prepared her quill pen for the eighth...or was it the tenth time? The fire from the nearest hearth wasn’t particularly bright, but it was strong enough for her to scratch out the words she so desperately needed to write.
Peter,
Writing this brings me more pain than I can express. Leaving you is the most excruciating choice I’ve ever had to make.
Katy put her pen down and stared at the words through tired eyes. He would never accept such a note. He was far more likely to assume someone else had thought it up and forced her to write it. Then he would launch a search party like the kingdom had never seen before, and he wouldn’t rest until he was either dead or half of his men were.
No. She would have to tell him herself. Facing his anger would be awful, and watching his heart break would be even worse. But he would believe her. He had to.
As it often did these days, Katy’s hand went to the little wooden whistle hidden in the lining of her gown. When the mysterious being in the woods had first given it to her, she’d tried to ignore it as much as possible. But as the evidence of her humanity had continued to lessen, the need for something...someone like her had finally driven her to consider using it. To go with the old into the woods and to never come back.
Katy’s original plans had involved living by herself, comforted by birds and beasts for the rest of her days. But what if this creature that they hunted wasn’t as dark as everyone thought? What if he wasn’t causing the forest to grow at all? The humans believed all sorts of untruths about her. Mightn’t they be blinded by the same prejudices about him?
“Miss?”
Katy jumped at the sound of the knock on her door. “Yes?”
“Might I come in?”
Katy slipped the whistle back into her dressing gown and peeked outside the door. Standing in the hall was Agnes, and to her great surprise, another woman, perhaps a few years older than Katy. “Oh, um...of course.” She held the door open as they walked in.
“I apologize for the early hour,” the younger woman said.
Katy couldn’t see her well in the light of the fire, but she could see from the woman’s clothes and jewelry that she must be high in title. She also never moved her left hand from her belly.
“Pardon me, but are you Lady Muirin?” Katy asked.
A smile lit the woman’s face. “I am. And I am sorry for taking so long to give you a proper welcome.” She glanced down at her belly. “I kept hoping the sickness would abate sooner, but it has taken far longer than I’d anticipated.”
“Won’t you lie down?” Katy hurried to pull back the bed covers, but Agnes had beaten her to it.
“Perhaps if you don’t mind.” She grimaced a little as Agnes helped her up onto the wide bed.
Katy stood by, feeling awkward for not being able to help.
“There,” Lady Muirin sighed and smiled as she leaned back into the pillows. “I promise, I do not make it a habit to invite myself to other ladies’ rooms and take over their beds.” She laughed. “Atharo has a sense of humor, though.”
Katy felt her stomach unclench a bit. “You believe?”
“Unlike the majority of those in this castle, I cannot attribute all the strange things that have happened to pure luck.” She looked down at her stomach, and her voice softened. “Too many miracles. But that’s a discussion for another day. Now we have work to do. Agnes, would you open the windows? I’d like to see what I have to work with.”
Katy blinked in the bright light as Agnes scurried to do as her mistress bade.
“My dear, you look so tired!” Lady Muirin studied Katy, pursing her lips. “Didn’t you get any sleep last night?”
“I’m afraid not.”
“Whatever was wrong? No, don’t answer that. I can guess a dozen reasons for you not to sleep. But we don’t have time to fix that right now, either. I only have a few hours to get you proper for the day.”
“The day?” Katy asked. “I thought the ball doesn’t begin until tonight.”
“It doesn’t, but there is a parade of events that precede the ball, and they start before noon. There, hand me that bag, won’t you Agnes? Thank you.”
“I apologize for my ignorance, but I’m confused.” Katy said, wringing her fingers. “Lady Saraid said I was to wear the blue gown she provided.”
Lady Muirin’s eyes, the same color as Peter’s, went flat. “And pray show me which gown that would be.”
Katy hurried to her wardrobe and held the blue gown up.
Lady Muirin wrinkled her nose, and Agnes muttered something beneath her breath.
“It’s even worse than I’d expected,” Lady Muirin said.
“I told you.” Agnes shook her head and glared at the floor.
“What’s wrong with it?” Katy turned the dress to study it once more. The gown itself had obviously been made for someone else, but then, so had all of the other clothes Saraid had brought her. Some of the hems had been adjusted rather too quickly, for the seams were already falling out, and some of the beads and pearls decorating the bodices were missing, but to Katy those were perfectly easy to fix. She’d stitched up this blue dress the day she’d received it.
“It’s an insult, that’s what it is,” Agnes said, shaking her head. “Just one dress on the day of the ball. Hmph!” Then she hurried over to the pile of bags and packages she’d brought in with her. Among the items she’d dumped at the foot of the bed was her sewing basket.
“I am afraid these gowns will be secondhand as well,” Lady Muirin sighed, “but they’re a far cry better than what Saraid deigned to leave behind. I think I’m a few inches taller than you, but Agnes will have it perfect in no time.”
“It’s really no trouble—”
“Katy,” Lady Muirin said, fixing her eyes on Katy’s face. “I know you cannot be aware of this, as you’ve not been able to see it, but I love my cousin very much. I worried about him every day since his father took him away, and I’ve prayed for him every day since that wench set her eyes on him after he arrived eight years ago.” She pushed herself up in the bed. “After I heard that you had returned with Peter, I have been praying for a miracle. And I think you just might be it.”
Katy stared at her. No one but Peter had talked to her with such familiarity since she’d come to the castle. Feelings of hope dared to sprout in her chest as she considered the warmth in the lady’s words. Cruel hope. Katy had never been anyone’s miracle.
“I…I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Agnes, why don’t you begin?” Lady Muirin nodded at her maid. Agnes began to remove Katy’s clothing, but Katy was too confused to even object as she stared at the woman in her bed.
“I don’t know the details of your situation.” Lady Muirin glanced at Katy’s hands. “I believe I have an idea as to what your history does and does not entail. And I do know that in all time he’s been here, I haven’t heard my cousin speak of anyone as highly as he speaks of you.”
Katy’s heart twisted as Agnes pulled a new set of petticoats over her head, and she desperately wished she could tell Lady Muirin everything. Instead, she whispered, “He’s chosen Lady Saraid.” Either way, she couldn’t be his.
“He’s chosen her because she threw herself upon him. The minute that girl was old enough to be seen in court, her parents placed her in his way every chance they got. And I find it rather odd that she began following him around and admiring his exploits only after he began to share at suppers about the way you would follow him around back in the village.”
Despite her fear, a sliver of indignati
on slipped into Katy’s chest and loosed the ropes that seemed to be binding her lungs. She had considered as much before, but Saraid’s continual praises for Peter had kept her from being sure.
Then Katy remembered Saraid’s admonishment of Peter at supper the other night.
“If you care for Peter as much as he seems to think you do,” Lady Muirin leaned forward, her eyes bright, “can you really leave him to her wiles? Do you really think she’ll make him happy in the end?”
“He seems happy enough with her now.” Katy recalled every touch the two had shared, innocent as they had seemed. The way he had draped his arm around her shoulders up on the platform. Every time Saraid had touched his face or pressed his hand to hers. Never once had he pushed out of her embrace. All of those kisses on the cheek given and accepted so freely...
“Peter was here eight years without you.” Lady Muirin’s voice was soft like a lullaby. “And never once did I see my cousin smile the way he did when he came to tell me he’d brought you home. Not when he had his first dance with Saraid, nor even when he took his place as head of the king’s knights.”
Katy gave her a sad smile and shook her head, though it made Agnes mutter, as she was adjusting something on the neckline of Katy’s dress. “I’m afraid he sees me as a sister. Nothing more.” That, and she was leaving him for his own safety as soon as she gathered the courage. But at the moment, that hardly seemed the greatest obstacle where Saraid was concerned.
Lady Muirin’s full lips curved up into a sly smile, and she shared a glance with Agnes. “Then it is our duty to see that he changes his mind.”
30
What He’s Become
“Saraid, my dear,” the king said, turning to Katy’s stiff neighbor, “you’ve been urging Peter down this path for years. I would have thought you would be a ray of sunlight today of all days.”
“I am thrilled, Your Majesty.” Saraid didn’t move her eyes from the field below.
Katy sighed. Saraid’s pink lips had been pinched in a tight line ever since Katy stepped out of her room that morning arrayed in her new gown, and Peter had told her that she looked beautiful. His exact words had been, Katy, you are a vision! Father would have been so proud! Katy hadn’t been able to suppress a smile or completely push away the prick in her eyes as she imagined Sir Christopher’s reaction to such a dress. As content as she would have been with Saraid’s old dress, Lady Muirin’s dress was a world more elegant. Also, it was green.
Saraid, however, who had been standing beside Katy in the crowd that had gathered out in the hall, had narrowed her eyes and immediately thinned her lips. The expression had only been exaggerated when Peter instructed the servants to seat Katy up with Saraid and the rest of the royal family on the platform.
The young woman hadn’t spoken a word in the hour since Peter left them to prepare for the fields and the court was escorted up to the platform. She’d only sent Katy scathing sideways glances every now and then as though sizing her up for some sort of...well, Katy didn’t know. She just knew she didn’t want to be sized up by Saraid for anything.
The king watched Saraid for a moment before slightly shaking his head and looking past her at Katy. “What about you, Katrin? Are you enjoying yourself?”
“I’m intrigued, Your Majesty. We never had games like this in Downing.” She squinted a little at Peter’s distant figure as he and another knight she couldn’t identify tossed a large rock back and forth between them. “I’m afraid I don’t understand exactly what they will be doing, though.”
“Ah.” The king stood stiffly and moved over to behind Katy’s chair, where he leaned over her shoulder to point. Saraid watched him through the corners of her eyes, and her mouth somehow turned down even more.
“Every time a new crown prince is coronated, we celebrate with a set of games. They were once only for the royal families of the different isles...” His voice trailed off for a moment. Then he cleared his throat. “But since our isle has been on its own, the contest has been open to both common and noble man alike.”
“What exactly is the point of the games?” Katy asked as she watched Peter put down the large stone and instead pick up a long pole and examine it.
“It gives them a chance to show off for all the women,” one of the men farther down the platform called. Another man snickered.
The king let out his own explosion of laughter. “In essence, yes! But the original purpose was to allow the men to practice certain skills in front of their peers.” He looked at Katy, his eyes crinkling kindly. “I’m afraid our sex is quite prone to competition. Performing in front of their peers always motivates them to do their best.” He glanced down the line at the man who had spoken. “My cousin is correct, though. Adding ladies to the stands only gives them further reason for doing well.”
Katy glanced at Saraid. Apparently men weren’t the only ones that felt the need to compete.
“Sire,” a servant appeared and bowed. “It is time.”
“Very good.” He turned back to Katy. “If you’ll excuse me, my dear. It appears I have games to begin!” Katy bowed her head and thanked him as he walked to the front of the large stone platform and raised his hands.
In the noon daylight, the platform was still one of the most interesting pieces of architecture Katy had seen since arriving at the palace. From her seat, Katy could see the mountains, the forest, and even all the way to the ocean. She wasn’t sure if she was correct, but she nearly fancied that she could see Downing over the mountains.
The people from the city had gathered around the marked game field on the moor, many sitting on blankets or standing at a safe distance from the weaponry and competitors. But from the platform, Katy could see everything as well, if not better than if she had been there on the ground.
“Citizens of the Third Isle,” the king’s voice boomed, echoing down to the people just as Peter had said it would. “I am overjoyed to welcome you today to the Coronation Games! Today you shall observe both skill and strength as we prepare to anoint the next heir in the direct line of kings.”
To Katy’s amazement, not only did the people on the field seem to stop and listen intently, but at the end of his speech, let up a roar.
“It’s the castle walls.”
Katy turned to find a young man with fine clothes and flaming red hair whispering in her ear.
“They echo,” he continued, “so that the people on the ground and in the city may hear whatever the king says without delay.”
Though she had known this, Katy appreciated his kindness. She nodded her thanks, and he stuck his hand between Katy and Saraid’s chairs. Katy automatically put her hand in his, trying to place his face.
He grinned and briefly bowed over her hand. “I apologize, Miss Katrin. I don’t mean to be too forward. My name is Art. I believe you’ve met my wife, Lady Muirin?”
Katy nodded.
He nodded once in return. “I would have introduced myself long ago, but I’ve spent much of the last few weeks with my poor wife.”
Katy felt herself relax at this introduction.
He glanced over at Saraid, who looked more annoyed than ever, and his grin grew even wider. “The dress looks lovely on you, by the way. My wife has impeccable taste. But then, I knew she was smarter than I would ever be when I married her.”
The smile Katy returned now was genuine. “I am very grateful for what—”
“Some of us are trying to hear the king,” someone hissed.
They turned to catch the end of Saraid’s glower as she looked back down at the field. Katy’s cheeks burned with embarrassment, but Art only chuckled and gave her an ornery wink as he settled back in his chair, an amused smile still on his face.
Katy had missed the beginning of the king’s explanation of the first game, but as soon as the contestants began, it wasn’t very difficult to understand. Tall poles with black shiny balls at their tops had been set around the field, and the contestants were given each a bow, arrows, and a small chunk of
what Katy assumed to be flint. A horn was blown, guards were brought out, and the field turned to chaos. Guards moved toward the contestants as they tried to fight their way free while setting their arrows aflame. It didn’t take Katy long to locate Peter, despite his full-body armor, for he was taller than any of the other contestants on the field. Many of the guards moved straight toward him. Where the other men were floundering, however, in just moments he’d not only fought off his attackers but managed to light his arrow as well. The crowd cheered as he took aim and let the arrow loose. The ball on the first pole went up in flames.
A hand settled itself on Katy’s shoulder. She looked back and found the king staring at the scene below, his eyes full of the wonder of a small boy. “I’m prouder of my nephew than I can say,” he said, not moving his eyes from the field. “You should have seen him when he arrived here. The boy could hardly hit the castle with an arrow if we’d asked him to try.”
“Someone did once, just to see if he could do it,” Art called in a low voice from behind her. “He stumbled and loosed the arrow as he fell. Brought down a pigeon instead.”
The king let out another belly laugh.
Katy smiled. Yes, she remembered that Peter very well, the one she’d been able to out-wrestle, out-run, and outride until he had turned thirteen. Not that she would embarrass him and tell them that.
“How did he do it?” she asked instead. How had her skinny, clumsy friend turned into a creature of exceptional strength and agility? How had he gone from boy to man?
The laughter in Art’s eyes turned to curiosity. “You don’t know?” He shared a glance with the king. “He did it for you.”
Katy stared. “For me?”
The Autumn Fairy (The Autumn Fairy Trilogy Book 1) Page 20