Storm clouds roll in, and there’s no moon to light our way. The path is dark and the road unfamiliar. We travel at a much slower pace than I would like. At this rate, we won’t be back before sunrise.
Barowalt will be livid if he wakes and finds me gone.
But if I do make it in time, no one will know the lengths I traveled to restore my appearance. No one but Irving, and for some reason, I trust him with this.
“Asher likely has someone guarding the blessing,” Irving says when we finally draw near enough to make out the ocean in the distance.
“My men will keep our visit to themselves.” I wrinkle my nose. “All would except Rogert, but, luckily, he’s not here.”
Irving glances over. “Why are we traveling in the dark of night to visit your unicorns?”
I nibble my lip for several moments before I decide to answer.
Keeping my eyes on the road, I hold up a strand of hair. “They’ll be able to fix this.”
“Are you that worried about it?” He stops, and I slow my horse as well.
“Yes, I suppose I am.” I pause and then admit something I haven’t even put into words before now, something that makes me grow cold. “I feel tainted. Like I’ve been touched by darkness, and some of it lingers. Like some part of me, something important and good, is gone.”
Irving looks worried, and he nudges his horse closer. “You said you felt fine.”
“And I do,” I assure him. “I’m not sick or tired, in pain or weary. I can’t describe it. I just know something is off.”
“And they can fix it?”
I nod. “Whatever this thing is I’m missing, I feel it most when I’m with them.”
He squeezes my hand. “Then let’s hurry.”
***
To some extent, luck is with me tonight. We find Asher on guard.
“Audette?” he calls, recognizing me at once in the dark.
I ride forward, grateful to hear his calm, steady voice. Irving helps me from my horse, and I go to the knight.
“Something’s happened,” I explain, feeling more at ease talking to Asher than my brother.
His expression grows wary as if he’s preparing himself for bad news. He glances at Irving, probably wondering if the prince is the cause of it. I motion the knight inside the stable where the torch light glows.
Taking a deep breath, I lower my hood.
One of the calmest, most unshakable of my knights sucks in a startled breath. “What happened?”
I don’t quite expect that much of a reaction, and, feeling off-kilter, I glance at Irving. Immediately, he steps forward and explains.
Asher rubs a hand over his face, distressed by the news. “Perhaps we should bring the blessing into the safety of the stables after all.”
“I think it would be best.” I twist my ring. “But I’d like to visit them now.”
I don’t say ‘alone.’ The two men sense it.
Asher nods. Irving glances at the night, probably not wanting me to go out on my own with the beast’s attack so fresh in our memories. I give him a reassuring smile and slip through the doorway.
Nocturnal by nature, the unicorns-disguised-as-horses graze. When I enter the pasture gate, they look up. Recognizing me, one of them trots forward, eager.
I hold my hand out, needing their comfort more than anything. But just as the mare’s almost to me, she stops and shakes her head. So distressed, she sheds her camouflage. The sudden light of her coat glows dimly, and she begins to back away.
“It’s me,” I whisper.
They remembered me the other night. Why not now?
I step forward gingerly. If I can just lay a hand on her coat, we’ll connect.
When I step forward, she darts several paces back. Her nostrils flare, and the whites of her eyes grow large. She’s terrified.
Of me.
Panic strikes, fast and sharp. Suddenly, my breath goes shallow, and I stumble back, my thoughts churning.
“Audette?” Asher calls from the fence.
“They don’t know me.” I turn around, clutching a hand to my chest, trying to will my heart to slow its rapid beating. “Worse…they think I’m a predator.”
And it’s true. In their fear, the entire blessing has winked back to normal, and the dainty creatures cower together at the base of the cliff.
Asher’s eyes go wide, and he watches the unicorns in disbelief.
Irving doesn’t bother asking Asher to move from the gate. He leaps over the fence. With an arm wrapped around my waist, he draws me from the pasture.
Hope shatters at my feet, and my confusion mingles with fear. They can’t fix me. They don’t even know who I am.
What’s happened to me?
***
Irving knocks softly on the door frame of the room I shared with Milly not long ago. It’s not closed, but he waits until I bid him enter. With the draperies pulled back and the windows open to the day, I watch the unicorns graze in the pasture. Asher once again convinced them to disguise themselves as horses. Tonight, before dusk, he’ll bring them into the safety of the stable.
“I’ve been a part of them my entire life,” I say, not bothering to turn toward the door. “Was introduced as a baby.”
The prince must take my words as an invitation. He comes into the room and rests his hand on my shoulder. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t offer words of comfort.
I’m not sure what he would say.
Absently, he pulls a lock of my hair through his fingers. “You’re still you. You know that, right?”
I turn, feeling listless, and meet his eyes.
He wraps the strand around his palm. “You’re not defined by your hair or the color of your eyes.”
“Have you seen the way the knights look at me since we’ve returned? Their shocked expressions that they quickly attempt to hide? No one’s even asked, but I know they’re whispering questions to Barowalt when I’m out of earshot.”
After watching me for several moments, not bothering to disagree, he says, “Asher sent your brother a message this morning, letting him know you’re here and you’re safe.”
“What good am I to the Order if the blessing is terrified of me?”
“We don’t know that this is permanent. It’s possible the creature’s magic will fade with time.”
I nod, but I’m not convinced.
Irving’s lips quirk in a lopsided half-smile. “But even if it does, you make a lovely brunette.”
Almost smiling, I shove him away.
“No, I’m serious.” He laughs and steps back. “Now you’re dark and mysterious—especially with that brooding, pensive look you’ve had going the last few days. It’s very alluring.”
There’s just something about him. He’s ridiculous and flippant…and something more. Even with as low as I feel now, he makes me warm. Just being with him makes things better.
He makes me happy.
“Why are you scowling at me like that?” Irving tilts his head to the side, studying me.
I shake my head. I won’t tell him how he’s growing on me. It’s the last thing he needs to know. If he senses that my affections are beginning to shift toward him, he might stop trying. And, as sad as it might be, I would be devastated.
Smiling, I hold up a length of my hair, trying not to wince at the dark color. “This doesn’t mean anything, does it? It’s not symbolic. I haven’t changed, have I? It’s just exterior.”
Slowly, his eyes warm. “Exactly.”
I motion to the room. “Sulking in here won’t find the creature.”
He crosses his arms, smiling. “It won’t.”
Glancing out the window, feeling a keen ache when I look at the unicorns, I say, “And whether they know me or not, whether they fear me or not, I vowed to protect them.” I look back, determined. “And it’s a vow I intend to keep.”
There’s something in his eyes, something I can’t quite place. It tugs at my heart, makes my breath quicken. I turn from him. Unfortunately, I come face-to-fac
e with the mirror. Instantly, I look away.
“No,” Irving says, his voice quiet as he comes up behind me. “Don’t let it frighten you, don’t be ashamed. Look at your reflection.”
He runs his hands up and down my arms. Bracing myself, I look back up. The first thing I notice, oddly enough, is Irving. Our eyes meet in the reflection, and, smiling, he rests his chin on my shoulder.
It’s comfortable, standing with him, pretending we belong together.
Longing to belong with him. Longing for him to look at me that way forever.
Slowly, drawing strength from him, I turn my eyes to myself. I inhale, hating that my own reflection looks so foreign.
“Look at how beautiful you are,” he whispers as he, again, runs his hand through my hair.
“I used to look like my mother,” I say quietly.
Irving lets his hand drop, and then, surprising me, wraps his arms around my middle, clasping his hands at my waist. My back is pressed against his chest, and his chin still rests on my shoulder. It’s more than a friendly gesture, sweet but alarmingly intimate.
“I remember her,” he says, his voice quiet next to my ear. “She’d visit my mother now and then.”
Tears prick my eyes, and I try to blink them back.
“I can’t recall what she looked like, exactly.” His jaw brushes my neck. “But she had the brightest laugh. That I remember.”
I turn to meet his eyes.
“Because that’s what was important,” he continues. “She was bright and vibrant and she made people happy. Beauty fades, hair turns gray. Some people are lost before their time. But in the end, we don’t remember them for how they looked. We remember how they made us feel.” He holds me tighter. “And I still feel the same way about you. Blond hair, brown hair, gray hair—it doesn’t matter. To me, you’re simply Audette, and nothing will ever change that.”
I give him a watery nod. For the first time since my parents died, I don’t bother to hold back my tears until I’m behind closed doors, don’t allow myself to feel guilty for shedding them.
And once I’m finished, I feel better. I still ache for them, still miss them, but a weight has been lifted.
“Thank you,” I say, wiping away the last of my tears with the palm of my hand. I turn and wrap my arms around him, hugging him the same way I would Barowalt or one of my knights, pressing my face against his tunic. “I’m afraid you’re right—you’re irritatingly likable.”
“Lovable,” he corrects, his voice muffled in my hair. “I’m not sure why you keep getting that wrong.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“How dreadful the whole ordeal has been for you!” Giselle declares, her eyes intent on Irving as he tells King Edlund the account of our night running through the streets in Constelita.
“Well,” Irving says dryly. “I believe it was worse for Audette.”
“Of course.” Her eyes flash to me, and she looks less than sympathetic. “You poor little thing. I’m afraid your complexion isn’t suited for dark hair.”
I force myself to smile.
“Kent, you and Aldus were down south,” Edlund says, turning to his nephew. “Did you see anything? Run into any trouble?”
Immediately, the prince’s eyes flick to mine, but I look away, uncomfortable.
“No, Uncle,” Kent answers.
Aldus’s full attention is on a pretty noble’s daughter, but he looks over and shakes his head as well. We never saw Aldus. Was my cousin there, willing to cover for Kent? Or does he even know?
Giselle strokes her husband’s arm, but her eyes are on Irving. She catches me watching, and she smiles. It’s not a vicious look exactly, but there’s certainly a challenge there.
Next to me, Irving shifts, uncomfortable.
“This gypsy you questioned,” the king continues. “You don’t believe he was involved?”
Barowalt, who’s seated at Edlund’s left-hand side, shakes his head. “I don’t believe so. He was too far away from the attack. But he knows something.”
“What did you do with him?”
“Since I couldn’t prove anything, I dropped him back in Coralridge. The guards charged him with minor magic use, and locked him up for a fortnight.”
King Edlund nods. “That will buy us time should we need to question him again.”
Grace, who’s stayed fairly silent, looks up. “He can’t go anywhere even when we release him, not during the winter.”
“Good point.” Queen Clara smiles at Grace, and Grace almost blushes at the attention.
Javid smiles at his wife. “Imagine the fun we’ll have tracking him down.”
Giselle sighs, loud and dramatic. “I wish there were something to look forward to. With this talk of attacks, we’ve all become rather sullen.” She looks up suddenly as if she’s just had an idea. “Let’s do a masquerade to lift our spirits.”
Kent starts to shake his head, but Clara cuts him off. “It’s not a bad idea. We usually do the mid-winter ball, but we could move it forward this year.”
“And it must be a masquerade,” Giselle says, her entire face lighting up. “I haven’t been to one in years.”
Clara looks at her husband, hopeful. “What do you say?”
Edlund thinks about it for a moment. “I suppose it won’t hurt to give you all something to look forward to.”
“While Clara and Giselle plan the ball,” Edlund says. “We’ll continue to hunt for the beast. If it’s a creature, it must have a lair it beds down in at night. If we can find it, we may be able to catch it off-guard. We’ll send out a search party, starting in the southern part of the kingdom.”
King Edlund knows nothing of our Order, but his plans suit ours just fine. Barowalt nods, and they begin plotting their mission.
As dinner continues, I shift my food back and forth. Giselle’s excited talk of her masquerade grates my nerves, as do the longing glances she keeps sending Irving. I have no appetite this evening.
***
“You’re not excited about the masquerade, are you?” Irving asks from my side.
Again, he’s found me in the archery yard behind our villa. This time, he doesn’t try to fool me into an archery lesson. Taking his stance next to me—a strong, traditional stance—he shoots an arrow at the target, hitting the bullseye without even trying.
“I think it’s ridiculous.” I nock my arrow. “There’s a beast wreaking destruction and havoc in southern Ptarma, and Giselle wants to throw a ball.”
“Still angry Barowalt didn’t let you accompany him on the search?”
I glance at him and give him a wry look. “A little.”
Irving sets his bow down and leans against a nearby tree. “What are you going to wear?”
After I shoot the arrow, I turn to him. “I can’t tell you—it defeats the purpose of the masquerade. The mystery.”
He crosses his arms and leans back, the picture of ease and grace. “But how will I find you? And more importantly” —he wags his eyebrows— “how will I know how to plan my costume?”
“You’ll have to wing it.” I laugh. “But I’ll tell you this, if you let it slip what costume you’re going to don, I promise Giselle will show up matching you.”
“You’re in an ornery mood.” He shoves away from the tree and stalks forward, his eyes bright. “I like that.”
Laughing, I push him back. “Go away. You’re distracting me.”
The clouds have rolled in. The morning was warm, like spring back home, but the rains will begin anytime. I’d like to get a little more practice in before I’m forced inside.
“I can distract you more,” he promises, catching me around the waist.
I swat him away, pretending disinterest.
“Just tell me what color you’re wearing,” he says.
The first raindrop hits my arm, and I look up at the sky, scowling. “I’m not going to ruin the surprise. You’ll just have to find me.”
“Intriguing.” He steps back. “Fine. I’ll leave you for n
ow.”
“Where are you off to?”
“I promised a lovely lady a ride through the Ptarmish countryside.” He gives me a mysterious, teasing look. “I believe we’ll stop for lunch as well.”
“You and Letta have a good time riding in the rain.”
“And here I thought you said I was a scoundrel at heart.” He shakes his head, pretending to be disappointed he didn’t fool me. “You wondered, didn’t you? Just a little?”
Trying not to smile, I say, “No. Not even a little.”
“Careful, Audette.” He steps close, his brown eyes locked on mine and his voice lowered and sultry. “You just might be starting to trust me.”
My breath hitches, but I try to hide it. “That would be foolish of me, wouldn’t it?”
“No.” With a raise of his eyebrows, he steps back, giving me room to catch my breath. “Have a nice afternoon.”
I watch him wind through the garden, back to the villa. Once he’s gone, I turn back to the target, trying not to smile.
***
The seamstress slips Milly’s newly-finished gown over her head. The layers of orange, black, and white fall softly around her.
Milly holds out her arms and admires the gossamer wings. “What do you think, Audette?”
“I think you make a very lovely butterfly.”
She grins as she ties her elaborate-winged black mask over her face. Once the ensemble is complete, she studies her reflection in the mirror. “Do you think Barowalt will like it?”
My brother returned with the search party early this morning. When I spoke with him, he wasn’t in good spirits. They didn’t find any sign of the creature—or a wizard’s lair. Despite Irving’s insistence that the creature is real, my brother’s not ready to toss the wizard theory aside completely. At least not yet.
“I’m sure he’ll love it,” I say.
After Milly’s outfitted in her new gown, the seamstress slips mine over my head. The dress is a simple magenta with a full skirt and a bodice so tight, the sleeveless gown has no choice but to stay in place. Sheer gold fabric wraps my neck and is secured at my throat with a brooch, and then it falls over my shoulders in a cape covered in carefully crafted flowers that match my dress.
Audette of Brookraven (The Eldentimber Series Book 4) Page 14