by K. M. Shea
Lady Maela howled in anger as the soldiers dragged her away.
“She blackmailed me,” Captain Hulderic shouted as his arms were tied behind his back. “And don’t you forget about the viper pretending to be Princess Davina! She’s just as much a traitor as the rest of us, and she has magic!”
Rynn swallowed and grabbed Davina’s hand in a death grip.
“Ow, you’re hurting me,” the princess complained.
Rynn ignored her and instead flicked her eyes back and forth between Hulderic and King Othmar.
“Enough of his howling,” King Othmar said. “Take him away.”
“But she’s a traitor!” Hulderic snarled. He tried to lunge at Rynn, but a soldier grabbed him by the arms and yanked him backwards. “She knew of the whole plan! Ask her—she can’t say no! She deserves to be sealed into a barrel of nails—”
Conrad grabbed Hulderic by the throat. “Utter one more threat to her—no—a single word about her, and I will see to it that our jailers know it is not necessary to send you back to Astoria alive.” He pushed the soldier backwards, making him fall and curse when he hit the unforgiving stone ground.
Hulderic glared darkly in Rynn’s direction.
Conrad stepped between them, to Rynn’s relief. She couldn’t see his expression as his back was to her, but he took a sword from a soldier and idly twirled it as Hulderic turned green and seemed to shrink in on himself.
“Take him away,” Conrad ordered.
Rynn took in a shuddering breath—which made a ripple of wind—and her heart soared. I’m safe. I don’t know how we’ll muddle through explaining everything, but they know I didn’t work with Lady Maela and her ilk.
“Your enthusiasm for this series of arrests is noted, Conrad,” King Othmar said.
“It is a great win, though,” Prince Geraint said. He smiled at Davina, and it seemed he could not take his eyes off her, even though he spoke to his father. “It’s taken us several years to pin down exactly how all the communication exchanges with Astoria seemed to go sideways and muddy.”
“To think, it was the ambassador—the esteemed noble who is supposed to foster the relationship.” Lord Medrod frowned as he watched the guards drag Hulderic and his men away. “Astorians must think us uncultured swine if he believes magic would be a black mark against you.”
“It’s not?” Davina—the only one with the strength to speak as Rynn was still light-headed with relief.
“Of course not,” King Othmar snorted. “Conrad has magic, and he’s the royal spymaster. We just don’t have much of it—he’s one of the only beings in the kingdom with a fairy blessing.”
“Speaking of which, we may have arrested the ringleader, but this is far from over.” Lord Medrod scuffed his boot and squinted up at the sun.
Conrad frowned and finally returned his attention to the conversation when the last traitorous Astorian guard was frog-marched into the palace. “What do you mean?”
“You are referring to the princess, I imagine?” King Othmar asked.
“Yes,” Sir Medrod said. “Where’s the real one?”
Conrad shrugged and looked to Davina.
Rynn groaned. “We’re still stuck?”
Davina turned to Rynn with slightly furrowed brows. “You haven’t told them yet?”
“I can’t,” Rynn growled. “Because of that ridiculous vow you made me take.”
“You mean you haven’t figured out the loophole?” Davina asked.
“What loophole?”
Davina laughed and giddily clapped her hands. “Worry not, Your Majesty,” she called to King Othmar. “I will soon explain the situation.”
Falada chewed on his bit. “And how do you expect to do that? No one has yet revealed all the truth. You won’t be able to talk about it.”
“To a living soul, yes,” Davina said. “But there’s nothing stopping me from telling that barrel.” She pointed to an empty barrel tipped onto its side. “For it is not a living soul.”
Pain assaulted Rynn’s head in a sharp wave. “You must be joking.”
Davina knelt gracefully in front of the barrel. “I am telling my story to this fine barrel,” she said loud enough for all to hear. “I’m sure it will be glad to know that I am, in fact, Princess Davina of Astoria, and the lovely lady—who is not my equal in beauty though she is still rather fine looking—is my lady’s maid, Corynn.”
Davina explained her plot to live as an heiress—though she refrained from mentioning the fear that Geraint might be a hunchback spurred her into it—and how she had come to be employed as a goose girl, as well as Rynn’s frequent trips to visit her.
Her tale to the barrel—which let everyone hear—loosened Rynn’s tongue. “Davina?” Rynn said slowly, savoring the moment.
Davina turned away from the barrel and smiled merrily. “Yes?”
Rynn fell to her knees in her light-headed relief, landing next to her. “It worked,” she gasped. “It really worked!” She stiffened when a breeze flicked her hair, having been summoned by the shortness of her breath.
“Of course it worked, silly,” Davina giggled. “I chose my phrasing carefully when I gave that vow.”
“What do you mean?” Rynn asked.
Davina patted Rynn’s back in sympathy. “I thought we should leave an opening in case I needed to speak to the king and take responsibility if things went poorly. Really, Corynn,” she continued. “I’m hurt you thought I would foist all the weight upon you! Though I would be lying if I said I’m not gleeful that for once I managed to outsmart you.”
Rynn had to press her lips together to keep her jaw from trembling as she studied the princess. “You mean you wouldn’t have let me be punished in your stead?”
“Of course not.” Davina slid an arm around Rynn’s shoulders and briefly rested her head against Rynn’s. “You’re my only friend.”
Rynn laughed, making the branches of the few decorative shrubs that dotted the courtyard sway with a breeze. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Prince Geraint cleared his throat and clasped his hands behind his back. “I find it disagreeable that I must interrupt your private conversation, but…Princess Davina?”
Davina straightened and put on her best smile. “Yes. You are Prince Geraint?”
He nodded.
“I apologize for my deception,” Davina said. “I cannot tell you how much I regret it, how much I wish I hadn’t listened to Lady Maela.”
“Does this mean you are still interested in marriage?” Prince Geraint asked.
“If you will have me.” Davina’s blue eyes glowed as she stared up into the prince’s face with rapt attention.
Prince Geraint took her hand and kissed it. “It would be my honor.” He offered her his arm. She took it, and neither of them could look away as they glided towards the palace, completely taken with each other.
Rynn watched the couple go, a tiny but fond smile briefly budding on her lips. I’m glad. Everything is going to work out in spite of the upheaval. But now…what will happen to me?
The original plan was that Rynn would return to Astoria after Davina was wed to Prince Geraint and settled in Farthendale. Assumedly, that was once again the plan, but what was she supposed to do until then?
Rynn turned in a circle, watching the Farthendale soldiers scurry around at the beck of their king, who was speaking to a guard who had escorted Lady Maela to the dungeon and had since returned. Lord Medrod and Conrad were cloistered off to the side—probably exchanging observations.
“That was an unexpected series of events,” Falada rumbled in his deep, earthy voice.
“Indeed.” Rynn rubbed her eyes, mentally exhausted though she summoned a tired smile for the fairy horse. “I expect when Lady Maela and Captain Hulderic are returned to Astoria and Queen Cassia learns of Davina’s activities, she will write her a scathing letter.”
Falada snorted. “She deserves it.”
Rynn chuckled. “Perhaps, but I’m glad
she came forward when she did.”
Falada chewed his bit and said nothing, but he took a step closer to Rynn and sniffed her pockets—probably looking for the apples she occasionally smuggled out for him and the Mushrooms. Rynn draped an arm over his neck, taking strength from the sour horse as the rest of the world seemed to surge ahead without her.
I want to go home.
* * *
As the day progressed, it soon became apparent no one had much of a use for Rynn. Davina was rightfully given the room meant for her, and spent the afternoon with Prince Geraint and Queen Morgaine, chatting with her fiancé and ingratiating herself to the queen.
King Othmar, Lord Medrod, and Conrad were all busy meting out justice and flushing out any leftover Astorian contacts who had been aware of Lady Maela’s ploy.
With no room to return to, no one to talk to, and no real purpose to fulfill, Rynn was left to aimlessly wander the palace. Eventually, she sought out solace in the least place imaginable.
Rynn chewed on a straw stem, sinking further into the straw pile she had arranged for herself.
The munch of horses chewing on hay was a comforting sound as she itched her nose, finally feeling safe for the first time that day. She cast a glance at her unlikely guard dog, Falada, who was angled slightly towards her, even though he had to twist his neck uncomfortably to snatch a new mouthful of hay from his hay rack whenever he finished.
He ignored her look, and instead shook his head when one of the amorous mushrooms tried to poke her velveteen muzzle into his stall.
Chuckling, Rynn closed her eyes and held in the sigh she wanted to heave. I should be happy. Besides my stupid wind magic, I got everything I wished for. I’m not being exiled or punished and I’ll soon return home and see my family... “So why do I feel sad?” she murmured.
“Perhaps it is because you feel like a used sack of potatoes,” Falada suggested. “In which case, I sympathize.”
Rynn glanced curiously up at the fairy horse, who still wouldn’t look at her and instead yanked another mouthful of hay free. “You don’t like belonging to the royal family?” she asked.
“I don’t like being a pawn trotted out for the occasions in which they wish to remind everyone how the fairies favor them,” Falada sneered.
“Ahh,” Rynn said in understanding. She stared up at the bright wooden ceiling of the barn. “Do you mind if I stay here tonight, Falada?”
“Surely they will provide you a room if you ask,” Falada said.
“Yes,” Rynn agreed. “If I approach a servant I’m sure they’ll find something for me.” They would also show her where the servants ate, and help her return to her post as lady’s maid, a thought that increased Rynn’s desire to sigh and magically be home so she could cry into her mother’s shoulder, laugh with Sophia, talk with Ellie, and maybe pat Martin’s cheeks before he shrugged her off. It’s not that I think my old role is above me…it is only…I truly liked Prince Geraint, King Othmar, Queen Morgaine, and Lord Medrod. It is sad that, with a return to my old job, I will never be of a status at which I will be able to speak to them again.
There was one name in that list Rynn was dearly missing, but it would take wild horses to drag Conrad’s name from her. Even acknowledging that thought made her want to snarl.
She rolled onto her side and cushioned her head on her arm. When she was finally comfortable she closed her eyes.
“What do you want?” Falada sneered.
Rynn opened one eye and watched the horse slightly rearrange himself so his legs were braced and he faced the stall door.
“Her,” a male said.
Rynn’s other eye popped open when she recognized his voice. She craned her neck, trying to peer past Falada’s pinned ears and massive head to glimpse Conrad standing in the aisleway. “Conrad?” She sat up, brushing straw from her clothes.
Falada glanced back at her, then stiffly stepped aside so she could approach the door.
Conrad reached over the stall door and pulled a piece of straw from her hair. “I’ve spent a good two hours searching for you. I did not think you would seek asylum here.”
Rynn shrugged slightly and exchanged looks with Falada. “We’re…friends? I think?”
Falada twitched his muzzle, but did not disagree.
“I will remember that for future reference.” Conrad opened the stall door and motioned for Rynn to come out.
“Is something wrong?” Rynn asked. “Do you need me to speak against Lady Maela?”
“No,” Conrad said. “It is merely that I believe I owe you an explanation.” He offered his hand.
Rynn hesitantly placed her palm against his, fighting the desire to blush when he entwined his fingers with hers and tugged her over to a rectangular hay bale that was pushed to the side.
“You certainly don’t owe me anything of the sort.” Rynn sat down on the hay bale, and was surprised when Conrad didn’t release her hand. “I lied to you—and the royal family! I consider myself very blessed that everyone has been so understanding about the situation.”
Conrad shrugged. “It wasn’t your choice to get swept up into the situation. If Davina had applied herself at all she could have spared you much suffering.” He sounded slightly disgruntled as he glared at Rynn’s feet.
“I see. What did you feel the need to explain?” Rynn asked.
“My actions—specifically why I posed as the goose boy,” Conrad straightened up and gazed down the aisleway with a small frown. “By the banquet we had when you first arrived, I had worked out you were not, in fact, Davina—which was in no small part thanks to your subtle hints. I surmised you were not voluntarily acting as the stand in, and as I knew already that Lady Maela was foul, I thought you were perhaps her puppet. It took me another day to put together your strange reaction to the arrival and employment of the new goose girl before I decided to chase that lead.”
“But you didn’t want to be recognized, so you used your magic to appear younger?” Rynn asked.
Conrad nodded and finally met her gaze. “My goal was to wrestle information from Davina. I did not expect your visits—though they did help me cobble together a slight understanding of what had happened.”
“I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you.” Rynn scowled briefly. “Though in my defense I did not think anyone in Farthendale was the recipient of a fairy gift.”
“It’s why I am the spymaster.” Conrad sat down next to Rynn on the hay bale, which suddenly seemed quite small. “No one expects a man from Farthendale to be able to use magic.”
“I see.” Rynn would have knit her fingers together to give herself an excuse to avoid Conrad’s gaze, but as he retained custody of her left hand, the most she could do was inspect the nails of her right hand. “I should have known something was up. You really were an awful goose boy.”
“I assume you learned to care for geese as a child?” Conrad asked.
Rynn mutely nodded. For all the good it did me. I should have recognized Conrad was as ill-suited for his job as Davina instead of assuming the agriculture master was horrible at hiring new animal care-takers.
Conrad was silent for several moments, then continued his story. “I had surmised that Lady Maela and Captain Hulderic would play their hand today and move against you—and Astoria. I wanted a clean explanation, which is why I spent the morning convincing Davina to come up to the palace to set the matter straight,” Conrad continued.
“It took you the morning to bring her around?”
“No.” Conrad’s brow twitched in irritation. “She agreed to come almost immediately, but insisted on washing, combing, and braiding her hair first.”
Rynn covered her grinning lips with her free hand to keep from laughing and stirring up a wind. She may be smarter than I gave her credit for, but she still is Davina after all… Rynn cleared her throat. “I see. Thank you for the explanation. I am quite relieved to hear you mostly worked the mess out.”
“We should have told you,” Conrad said. “Uncle, Geraint
, and I debated fiercely for days. They over-ruled me, of course.”
Rynn blinked, surprised by the knowledge that it was Conrad who had voted to explain everything to her. But their knowledge of the situation—or at least the knowledge that I was not the real Davina—explains some of their conduct. The royal family was always very kind, but after those first few days they seemed to pull back from me and treat me more like a guest and less like a daughter-in-law. Geraint in particular had pulled back—which was quite valiant of him, really, as it meant he was less familiar with her than even Conrad had been.
Conrad awkwardly cleared his throat in the silence, then continued. “They worried you wouldn’t be able to properly act terrified if you knew we were aware of the situation and Hulderic tried to intimidate you. We needed Lady Maela to make active claims against the Astorian royal family, you see, before we could arrest her. Uncle worried you might accidentally tip off years of our clandestine work.”
“They were right,” she admitted. “I doubt I could have held my tongue and refrained from giving Lady Maela a verbal lashing if I knew what she was planning.” Rynn smiled at the secretive spymaster.
Conrad was staring intently at her—or more specifically her lips. “Mmhmm,” he said.
“I’m relieved it’s all over,” Rynn said.
“Right. Yes.” Conrad slightly shook his head, as if clearing his thoughts. “On behalf of my Aunt and Uncle, I have been instructed to officially welcome you, Corynn, to Cadburey.”
Ahh yes, they really are a kind family. Rynn smiled wistfully. “It’s just Rynn.”
“Did not Princess Davina refer to you as Corynn?”
“Davina has always called me by my full name, Corynn, but I do prefer Rynn.”
“Very well, Rynn. Aunt Morgaine wishes for me to tell you that the rooms next to Davina’s have been prepared for you.” Conrad—still holding Rynn’s hand, which, frankly, was starting to grow hot—rested their joint hands on his thigh.
Rynn noticed when he stroked the top of her hand with his thumb, but she was still distracted by his words. “The quarters next to Davina? I’m sorry, but those must be too good for a mere lady’s maid.”