by Lea Doué
Gwen didn’t dare comment on it, but she clenched her fists behind her back, fighting the urge to rip every last black curl from the girl’s head.
Sissi eyed them all up and down, an unreadable expression on her face. She could have been bored or jealous or hungry. Bay bounced on her toes, eyeing Sissi right back.
Eddy watched Gwen out of the corner of his eye.
“Your dress is remarkable,” Gwen said. “Did you make it yourself?”
Sissi’s face lit up. “I’ve been working on it for ages.” She swayed back and forth, the feathers swishing and floating, and admired her work. “The white goose feathers are my favorite. I collect them whenever I can.” She smirked and glanced at Eddy.
He remained silent, staring over her shoulder.
Gwen should have answered diplomatically as Lily would have done, but she couldn’t find it in her to care if she offended this girl by refraining from small talk. She nudged Theo ever so gently with her elbow.
He understood immediately and addressed Sissi. “Well, let’s not waste the night. May I have the first dance?”
As soon as they stepped out onto the floor, music struck up from an invisible orchestra.
Everyone watched the dancers. No one spoke. Hazel hadn’t said a word about the hair.
“We shouldn’t linger here too long. She expects a ball.” Eddy turned to Bay. “I would be delighted if the real birthday girl would honor me with a dance.”
Bay crossed her arms. “Thanks, but I got no interest in dancing. Don’t know how. This ball wasn’t even my idea, so please go dance with Princess Gwen.”
“As you wish,” he said with a smile and a bow.
He offered Gwen his hand, she accepted, and he swept her onto the floor. Holic took his job of escort seriously, and he and Hazel joined them soon after. Bay slumped against the wall and picked at a fingernail.
Gwen and Eddy stayed well away from the other couples, chatting as they moved around the room.
“I’d hoped to see you in something purple,” Eddy said.
“Oh?” Did he know that was her favorite color?
“I’ll never forget how amazing you looked in that lavender gown the day we first met. You stood in a row with your sisters, trying not to shine between the heir and the tall blonde, but I saw you right away.”
Her face heated. She’d had no idea.
“I saw you even before that, riding Buttercup into the courtyard. You were almost late to meet the Oshan heir because your horse had found a patch of his favorite clover.”
He’d remembered Buttercup’s name. “Who told you that?”
“The twins,” he said with a grin. “You should keep an eye on those two. They’re shockingly easy to bribe.”
She smiled in return, and for a moment, they were no longer trapped in a fortress, but gliding around the ballroom in Eltekon with its bright candles and open windows and jeweled ballgowns.
“I like my odds for getting a third and fourth dance tonight,” Eddy said.
She chuckled. “The Oshan heir can dance with whomever he wishes.” She would gladly dance with him all night if she could, but they had others to consider.
After two songs, they changed partners. Sissi protested, but when Theo told her it was customary, she relented and took Eddy’s hand with a scowl.
Theo heaved a sigh of relief and led Gwen into the next dance. “That… girl… woman… is the most uneducated person I’ve ever met. She talks about herself and nothing else. I asked her about the firethorns around her neck, and she said that if the soldier-king wore firethorns, then so could she. She doesn’t even know basic history.”
Being one of twelve daughters of the current ruling descendant of the soldier-king, Gwen knew more of their patriarch’s history than most. Possibly. But every child who attended even one year of school or who took part in the yearly Dragon Festival in any kingdom knew that The Firethorn Crown was worn only by the soldier-king’s descendants. It was now made of gold and rubies rather than real branches and berries, and it was not worn around the neck. Sissi had no right to claim kinship with anyone in Gwen’s family simply because she thought she deserved a crown.
Theo was still talking. “Eddy said she’s been here most of her life, and that sorcerer apparently taught her nothing. Nothing useful, anyway. I’ll grant she is a good dancer. Not as good as you, though.”
Gwen smiled absently. Sissi was openly staring at her. No, she was glaring, whipping her head around as she spun to keep her gaze locked on Gwen and Theo. This was her ball, and she clearly didn’t like her plans to woo the current heir thwarted.
“I think you should be extra attentive to Sissi tonight. Go against protocol and dance with her more often. Share a meal. Compliment her feathers.”
“Did you not hear anything I said?”
“Yes, I did. But actions speak louder sometimes, and her actions have been less than friendly. Please, Theo, just keep her happy tonight. We don’t need anyone else getting hurt over her jealousy.”
His expression turned thoughtful. “If you think it will help, I can do that.”
“Thank you.” Her smile was genuine this time.
Partners changed a few more times, but Theo kept his word and danced only with Sissi. She still surveyed the room, but her expression had turned to one of gloating, except when she looked at Hazel and brief flashes of anger distorted her face.
Bay danced once with Holic but refused to endanger the other princes’ toes or overtire her injured ankle, while Hazel seemed to find comfort in the familiar activity and refused to rest. Gwen sat out once or twice at the dining table, which had filled with food while no one was looking.
She’d lost count of the dances when Holic reluctantly passed her off to Theo again, barely missing a step. She’d danced with all three of them in Eltekon, although it had been four years since she’d partnered Eddy. He was the best, despite his years of deprivation. Almost as good as Lily’s fiancé, Eben, but he’d had the advantage of growing up with twelve princesses teaching him.
Theo remained silent this time, content to watch her. Eddy partnered Sissi at the far end of the room, arms holding her stiffly at arm’s length. Bay sat at the table, stuffing herself with sweets.
“Your mind is anywhere but here with me, isn’t it?” Theo asked.
She flashed a guilty smile.
“You’re always concerning yourself with the people around you, but you never stop to look at the one who’s right in front of you.” Sadness filled his eyes, and something else. Determination. “I don’t give up easily. You know that, right?”
How was she to answer that? He didn’t give her time to consider.
“I’m leaving as soon as we get out of here.”
“You are? Why? Where?”
“I’m going to look for my mother. If she’s out there, I’ll find her.” Eddy had said something similar, but Theo sounded like he planned to strike out on his own.
“You don’t even know where to start.”
His eyes flicked to Sissi. “I think she might know.”
“Even if she does, she won’t tell you anything.”
“She might, if I approach it the right way.”
Her hand grew clammy in Theo’s grip. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. There’s more to her than we know. I can’t say what, but I feel like she’s hiding something.”
“I agree, but I have to find my mother.”
She let the song carry them around the room once more. “I’m sorry.”
Theo looked surprised. “For what?”
“For getting us into this. I shouldn’t have ridden off when I had a hunch about the wild man, but I knew how much finding your brother meant to you.”
“You did it for me?”
She managed to shrug without throwing them out of balance. She’d done it for more reasons than she’d realized at the time.
A hesitant smile spread across his face. “That’s part of what I love about you—the way you jump in and ta
ke care of everyone around you. I’m glad to be one of those people.”
Oh, dear. Where was Eddy? Or Holic? It was nearly time to change partners again, wasn’t it?
Theo took his hand from her waist just long enough to nudge her face towards him. “When I go, I want you to come with me, Gwen.”
Chapter Eighteen
Gwen kept dancing, but she wanted to run.
She understood Theo’s real question, of course, and while she couldn’t possibly say yes, she hated saying no, hated hurting people. Maybe… maybe she’d gotten it wrong.
“Marry me, Gwen.” The candlelight gilded his hair, and fire shone in his eyes.
She hadn’t been wrong.
“I know you have no interest in being a queen, being tied down with those responsibilities. Now that I’m free of that, now that Eddy’s been found, we can be free together. You’ve already shown you’ve got what it takes to live on the road, and you’re smart. You can help me figure this out, help me find her.”
It wasn’t the first proposal she’d ever had, and it certainly wasn’t the most romantic. Still, she respected him for not using fake flowery language to try to win her over, promising his undying love until the end of time and such insincere nonsense. If she’d never met Eddy, the practical side of her might be persuaded.
If she’d never met Eddy. But she had. And that changed things.
“Please, Gwen.” He pulled her closer as they spun. “I don’t want to be alone anymore.”
She shook her head and pushed against him, stumbling backward. “I’m sorry, Theo. I can’t.”
Air. She needed air. Even a dungeon had windows. She rushed out the door, but she couldn’t go outside.
The lookout.
She made it without tripping on her gown—how did Azure manage to run in these things?—and leaned out one of the arches.
Ten minutes later, Holic joined her. “The others are still dancing. Sissi refused to end the ball before midnight, although I don’t know how anyone can tell time in this place.” He leaned against the wall beside her. “What’s going on?”
At least he didn’t ask if she was all right, because she was definitely not all right. And she couldn’t tell him about his brother’s proposal. Not yet. She wanted to explain how overwhelming this place was, especially after what they had gone through just weeks ago in Eltekon. The darkness, the stone walls, the fake clothes.
She took a shaky breath, her throat tightening with unshed tears. “I miss my horse.”
The tears spilled over, and he pulled her in for a hug, tucking her face into his shoulder. She let herself cry, his brotherly arms comforting and safe, but saved a few tears for later.
When he tipped up her chin towards his face and leaned in, she backed away quickly, bumping her elbow on the window ledge.
“Wait,” she said. Holic didn’t quite fit into the brotherly role he’d held a few days ago. She should have remembered that.
“I don’t even have a chance with you, do I?” His shoulders drooped, and he handed her a handkerchief before continuing. “Whatever happens, Gwen, I want you to be happy, whether that’s with me or not.” He paused with a smile and a hopeful lift of his brows. “I’d like for it to be me. No? Well, I won’t tell you to stop being yourself, to stop trying to help everyone all the time, but it’s perfectly acceptable to think about Gwen sometimes, too. It won’t turn you into Sissi.”
She blotted her face. Took a deep breath. “I suppose not. Thanks.”
He sighed. “I’d better get back. I’ll see you in a few minutes.” He crossed the lookout and put his foot on the first step.
“Holic?” she called.
“Yes?”
“I plan on helping you when we’re out of here.”
He smiled, but his eyes held sadness. “I know, but I’m still hoping you’ll come around. I can be just as stubborn as my brothers.”
She leaned out the arch again and listened to the sound of his boots scraping down the stairs. Hope wouldn’t undo the sorcerer’s potion, and neither would determination. Hazel’s future was at stake, her happiness. She needed a plan. She needed Tharius. He’d said there was no cure for love potions, but what if he’d been misleading them, leaving out some key information? What if there was a counter potion? Not a cure, exactly, but something that would work against the original to achieve the same result?
She would add finding Tharius to her things-to-get-done-soon list.
The breeze toyed with her hair, the loose strands tickling her neck. She stretched her arm out and twanged the web strand that ran between the lookout and the nearest tree. A dozen or so weaver dragons poked their heads out from among the leaves, their dark hides almost invisible in the gloom. One of them stepped out onto the strand, wrapped his tail around it as a tether and extended his stubby wings. Within seconds, he had climbed up the web line and balanced himself with one leg on the stones of the lookout. His head swiveled back and forth as if trying to figure out what kind of creature had disturbed his nest.
“You’re awfully brave,” she said, surprised that he had approached the lookout, which was clearly an object of sorcery. He must be the one who’d strung the web. Every group had at least one rebel.
He reached out with his front paw and wiggled his long, finger-like toes in her hair. Had his talons been extended, she would have had another haircut. She pulled out a strand and offered it to the dragon. He grasped it gingerly, sniffed it. Sneezed. Handed it back.
“You’re right. I can’t do a thing with it, either.”
He studied her for a few moments and then slid back down to the tree and disappeared.
If they ever found a way out, would the weavers follow, or would they choose to stay in their home? Tharius had seemed confident she would find the key to their freedom, but she didn’t feel very hopeful or confident at the moment. There were so many stone dragons out there. How could they possibly defeat them all and get out? They had to be missing something.
One thing was certain; they wouldn’t get out tonight. She sighed. Better get back before Sissi made a fuss about a guest running out during her ball.
She descended the narrow stairs carefully, hurried down one hallway and then another. Halfway to the ballroom, she heard voices around the next bend. One of the brothers and… Hazel? It was difficult to tell. What could Holic and Hazel be discussing?
Gwen slowed to a tiptoe and gathered her swishing skirts to quiet them. She wasn’t eavesdropping—just double checking to see who was there. She stopped at the corner.
The voices stopped, too. Did they leave? Had they heard her?
She peeked around the corner, but it wasn’t Hazel and Holic.
It was Eddy. He stood about five feet away with his arms wrapped around a small, dark-haired form wearing a dove grey gown.
They were kissing.
His body blocked the girl’s features, but it had to be Sissi. Her hands played in his hair, her ring catching the light from the wall sconces, the three rubies winking and laughing at her.
Gwen put a hand over her mouth and stumbled back the way she’d come. She broke into a run, intending to return to the lookout, but she took a few wrong turns until she finally collided with Theo. He caught her by the elbows before she fell backward.
She looked up into his face and then burst into tears for the second time that night.
“What’s wrong?” he said, alarm coloring his voice. He moved his hands up to her shoulders.
She couldn’t draw enough breath to answer, so she hugged him instead.
He wrapped his arms around her. After a couple of minutes, he spoke quietly. “Can you tell me what’s troubling you?”
“Eddy… .” She couldn’t say it.
“Is he hurt?”
She shook her head, the fabric of his tunic rasping against her cheek.
“What happened? Did he do something?”
“He… he…”
“Just breathe.” He cupped her head with one hand and rubbed slow c
ircles on her back with the other.
The tears slowed finally. She dried her face with the back of her hand and then explained briefly what she’d seen.
He sighed, long and loud. “I should have spoken to you privately instead of in the ballroom. He’s obviously hurt, and that can make people behave out of character.”
Perhaps. “Do you think—”
Theo stiffened, and his arms dropped to his sides.
She turned around. Eddy stood at the end of the hallway, silent, the hurt on his face clearly visible even from a distance. Her heart broke and raced in anger all at once. How dare he look like she’d just betrayed him?
“You can go if you want,” Theo said. “I’ll talk to my brother.”
She fled, wanting nothing more than to be alone. She made her way back to the lookout and fell sobbing to the floor in a puddle of skirts. Eddy had fooled her, and she’d made a fool of herself clinging to Theo after running away from him. Holic was wrong. Wanting something for herself was dangerous. She couldn’t go back down tonight. She wouldn’t.
*
She awoke sometime later with Hazel by her side. With a groan, she sat up and rubbed her temples. Her whole head felt stuffed with cotton.
“What time is it?”
“’Bout one in the morning.” Bay sat on the top step. She and Hazel still wore their gowns.
“The party is over,” Hazel said. “Why don’t you come down with us, and we’ll get changed.”
Gwen pulled up her knees and wrapped her arms around them. “I don’t want to go back down there tonight.”
Hazel was quiet for a moment. “Bay, please fetch as many pillows and blankets as you can. Make a few trips if you have to, and bring our clothes and something to sleep in.”
Bay slipped away.
“Do you want to talk?”
She couldn’t fool her sister. “I don’t know what to say. I feel so stupid.” She recounted everything since Theo’s unexpected proposal.