by Marnie Cate
Narrowing my eyes, I pushed him away. “And she would be your Queen?”
“No, nothing like that,” he said quickly. “She is the Goddess. You would be my queen, my Vizier. Snowystra trusts me, and soon, she will make her decision. It's in our favor, how pleased she is that you are carrying a son.” His expression turned hopeful. “If we lived in her realm, she would let us be a part of his upbringing. We could keep our children.”
“I am not giving her my son, let alone all my children.”
“Don't be foolish, Blanche. This will be a way for us to be together,” he said, fluttering kisses on my cheek. “Don't you want to be mine forever? This is the only way. It is the answer we wanted.”
“I do want to be your queen,” I replied.
Once again, I was tempting fate. Kissing him deeply, I allowed his words to convince me we could be together. We could be a family. He made me believe Snowystra would give us everything we desired because our son held the key to her freedom, and therefore, ours. My foolish heart would never realize the truth.
Chapter 16
Roger's mood was up and down. Managing our businesses had him stretched thin. Between the cannery, the trains and his decision to move the printing press back to Brighid's landing, he was busier than ever. The pressure of becoming a father only added to his stress. It seemed to bring out the best, and worst, in him in a cyclical fashion. I could barely stand to be in the same room with him one moment, and the next, I couldn't imagine not being married to such a kind man.
My mother had decided a dinner party would be the best thing to raise his spirits. A bonus would be a captive audience. Roger would get the chance to convince the elders of Starten that the train line would be an asset, not a liability.
The dress I had first picked out for the evening was more reserved, but Roger convinced me to wear a more form fitting black lace gown. Despite my initial doubts, I still felt confident in it. I knew I would be the most attractive wife at the table.
Seven couples joined us for the dinner. The evening began smoothly with a delicious meal and light conversation. Even though it was pleasant, I was glad when dessert was served because it meant our guests would soon be going to their respective homes. As the last plate was cleared, I began to thank our guests for coming and wished them on their way.
David Ward picked this moment to stand and make a toast. He clearly had enjoyed the wine a bit too much. On the best of days, David was a pleasant man, but he was also a pious hypocrite. Red-faced, he held his glass up as he swayed about, and said, “To Roger Kingston, a lucky son of a gun. Who would have guessed he would be the one to tame Blanche Drygen? Hadn't we all grown tired of waiting to see who would be the lucky fellow? We all were very surprised by the quick nuptials, but as we can all see, age has not slowed down old Roger. What was your secret trick?”
My mother stood. “Thank you, David. We are quite pleased Roger has joined our family. He is not only a smart business man, but he won my daughter's heart.”
David mumbled, “Took long enough to get her out of the back of Jackson's car and make her a respectable wife.”
His words shocked me. Simon and I had never been intimate in a car, and definitely not anywhere with witnesses. Why would he say such a thing?
Mrs. Jackson, who was several seats away from him, stood up. With pursed lips, she said, “We have had a wonderful evening, Camille. It appears it is time for us all to go home.”
“Yes, all good things must come to an end,” my mother said, glaring at David.
* * *
By the time everyone was gone, Roger was red with anger. “Who does he think he is to make a fool of me like this?” Roger ranted.
“David has not been right in the head since his daughter, Julia, snuck away many years ago. She ran off with Daynor Wakefield, one of those gypsies. David led a campaign banning the wanderers from Starten, and forcing them to the outskirts of town,” my mother soothed. “Between you and me, I think Julia came home pregnant and they passed off her baby, Janet, as their own. Now, he thinks all woman need to be tamed.”
“But he said —” Roger tried to argue, but my mother interrupted him.
“He is just jealous of your success. Do not let him spoil a prosperous evening.”
I hadn't said a word and neither were paying attention to me. Taking this opportunity, I slipped away to our suite. I did not want to be dragged into the conversation, especially since Roger was not worried about my pride. His only concern seemed to be how he looked in the eyes of Starten.
* * *
I changed into my nightgown and sat patiently drinking tea. I hoped my mother would calm Roger, and he would come to bed happy about the evening. I knew my hopes were fruitless when he clamored into the room.
“Why did you sneak off?” Roger growled.
I rubbed my stomach and smiled. “It was a long evening. I needed to put my feet up. I am almost eight months pregnant,” I reminded him sweetly.
“David Ward made a fool of me. What was he talking about? Did everyone but me know what a whore I was marrying? You should have warned me this could happen,” Roger insisted.
“He is an old fool,” I said dismissively. I stood and went to him, taking his hand. “He is jealous of you, plain and simple. Yes, I dated Simon – everybody knows that, including you – but I was a teenager then. And, I never claimed to be your virgin bride, but by no means have I been loose.” I would not defend myself. Simon had been my first, and only, and I had been engaged to him at the time.
“The whole town is laughing at me” he barked. “Who else have you been with?”
“We are not all your innocent, Catherine,” I shot back.
He ripped his hand from mine and slapped me across the face. I gasped in surprise.
“Never again will you embarrass me like this, Blanche. You are right. You are nothing like my sweet Catherine,” he said, shaking me. “From now on, you will tell me everything. You will let me decide if I need to know something or not.”
“Roger, I never lied to you. Stop, you are hurting me,” I cried.
Letting go of me, he stormed into the bathroom. The door slammed behind him.
My mind raced as I stood stunned, unable to move. The slap of Roger's hand still burned my cheek and stung my heart.
He returned, dressed in his pajamas, and slipped under the covers. Turning to me, he glared until I joined him. Minutes passed with no words until Roger finally fell asleep. Hearing his rhythmic breathing, I quietly left our bed. I didn't know where I was going, just that I needed to get away from him.
Wandering the halls, I decided my old bedroom would be my escape. Cradled in my familiar bed, tucked under the covers, the anger in his eyes haunted me. If he knew how true his suspicions were, what would he do? As my eyes closed, I prayed for peace, not knowing if anyone was listening, but hoping just the same. Thankfully, slumber took me.
A scratching at the window jolted me awake. Jameson was my first thought. I ran to the patio door to greet him, but I found a small brown cat instead. The vile creature sauntered out of the shadows and began to rub against my legs.
“Scat,” I hissed.
It stopped and stared into my eyes. Its silver eyes shimmered, and the voice of Danu said, “Follow.”
Before I could question the cat, it ran across the balcony. I watched it in awe, momentarily frozen. Stopping at the steps, it turned and meowed at me. Without thinking, I followed. It travelled so fast. I found myself having to run to keep up. It led me down the mountain our mansion was on and deep into the forest. As it circled Sparrow Lake, the cat vanished.
“No,” I cried.
I felt foolish to have followed a cat so far. Not only was I much too pregnant for such an endeavor but cats don't speak. I was losing my mind. Anger towards Roger for making me so upset filled me.
Suddenly, I heard men laughing just ahead of me. I looked down at my clothing. I was dressed in a white nightgown, my bare feet were dirty and I was covered in scra
tches from the brush. Turning to duck behind a tree, I smacked into something. I gasped as I realized it was a man.
“Bella,” he said, with some sort of accent. “You should be careful in the forest at night. Creatures lurk. Let me take you to Miselda. She will dress you and heal your wounds.”
“No, thank you. I will return home. I was sleepwalking,” I said, forcing myself to hide the fear I had.
The man threw his head back and laughed. When I glared at him he smiled.
“There is no need to lie to me. I know you followed the spirit of the Goddess. She wants you to be here. You should continue your journey, but I cannot let you wander through this forest at night alone. So, come along before the sun rises, and she will not see you.”
With no choice, I let the strange man lead me deeper into the woods. After a few minutes, the soft glow of a bonfire appeared in the center of a half dozen caravans. The man had brought me to a gypsy camp filled with women dressed in colorful skirts heavily laden with gold jewelry. They wore scarves wrapped around their heads, letting their loose curls flow.
The group of exotic women were dancing in a circle, surrounding two men in dark pants, white shirts and vests. They were kicking their feet up as the crowd cheered them on. People waved and smiled at me as I approached them.
“Join us, Joe, and bring your new friend,” one of the women called. She motioned us towards her.
The man with me shook his head and pointed. Nodding, they resumed their dance, looking happy and free. I envied their carefree attitude as Joe led me away from the crowd. He guided me towards a purple caravan with gold etchings of birds covering it.
When we neared, Joe took my arm. “Remember to be respectful. Miselda is a descendent of the golden king, and her power is great.”
Outside of the caravan, a woman sat on a high-backed chair in front of a fire. Her long, silver hair fell over her shoulders. On her lap sat the cat. The little beast was purring so loudly I could hear it from ten feet away.
“I see Joseph has helped you find your way, Blanche.” The woman grinned at me, showing a gold tooth. “Come. I'll tell your fortune.”
When I didn't move, Joe placed his hand on my back and gave me a slight push towards her. She motioned to the chair beside her. As I sat, another woman knelt at my feet and began to clean them. When she was done, she covered them with a pair of shiny purple slippers.
“To keep you warm,” Miselda said as a shawl was placed on my shoulders.
“Thank you,” I replied.
The woman grabbed my hand tightly. Her hands were as cold as ice. She stared deep into my eyes. Uncomfortably, I watched as her deep blue sparkled with specks of purple. Abruptly, she dropped my hand.
“You are carrying a child of the Miezitari,” she said in a hushed voice. “You must never tell her.”
“Should she tell me, Miselda?” Jameson stepped out of the shadows. “Why do you council her to hide the truth? This is good news. The Goddess will reward us greatly.”
“No, there will not be a king until the silver butterfly,” she corrected him cryptically. Miselda reached into a satchel and withdrew a vial filled with a blue and silver liquid. “Drink this.”
“What is it?” I asked, accepting it.
“It is the same potion your mother gave you. It will protect your child in the same way.” She turned and glared at Jameson. “Will you protect your son?”
Jameson's eyes glistened with tears. “My son?”
“Yes, the girl carries your son. You will have a choice to make, Jameson. One I do not think you are strong enough to make on your own.”
I held the vial in my hand. Jameson wanted to be the Shah of Snowstrum. Our child could hold the key to his dreams, but at what price? He did not look at me. Instead, he glared at the old woman. Slowly, I removed the cork from the vial and Miselda gave me a slight nod of encouragement.
As the liquid touched my lips, Jameson cried. “Stop!” He reached out to me, but it was too late. I drank every last drop. “What have you done? She lied. She did not give you the same elixir. She lied!”
He lunged at Miselda, but was stopped by Joe and two other men. They held Jameson as their leader stood before him.
“You have forgotten the treachery of the Goddess already? You watched your family die at her hands. The child will never carry the Winter magic in its true form. He will be safe if —”
“If what?” I interrupted. By now, I was on my feet, gripping the arm of the seer. “Please tell me how to protect my son.”
“Seeking the dark god will not help you. You must cut those ties.”
“I haven't agreed to Amaro's terms. I have not made any ties,” I proclaimed.
“Then you will have no issue reminding him you are not interested in his plot to destroy the Winter. His words of temptation are just a lure. You will eliminate one enemy for another,” Miselda said, removing my hand from her arm. “Amaro is not your only worry. The man you have pledged your love to will betray you. He will not choose his love for you over the power he seeks.” Miselda pressed a sharp nail over Jameson's heart. “Or am I wrong? Will you protect your son or sacrifice him to Snowystra?”
When he didn't respond, I walked away. The look on his face told me he would not protect us. His promises had been lies. The anger for trusting him that I felt for myself drove me to walk faster through the forest, and before I knew it, I was climbing the mountain to my home. That was when I had decided I would no longer allow my false feelings for Jameson to interfere with my marriage. I would apologize to Roger, and I would promise to love him and only him. This time, I would keep the vows I made.
* * *
By the time I reached the balcony steps, I had no more energy. I felt deflated, as if all joy and spirit had been stolen from me. I sat on the bottom step and began to weep. My tears were not only for my child, but for everything I had lost because of the gift of magic. My brothers, my father, my mother's tortured life.
“Why did you run off, Blanche?”
I heard the husky voice of Jameson and my heart flipped. No! Anger immediately built inside me and I realized I would not react to him the same way anymore. I had already begun to close off my heart.
“There is nothing left to say. You will sacrifice me… my son for your greed. Leave me be until that time,” I demanded, shoving past him and walking up the steps.
“I won't,” he said, suddenly in front of me. “I promised I will protect you both.”
He placed his hand on my stomach before pulling me into his arms. I struggled against him until his lips touched mine. Once again, my hard feelings melted and I was lost to everything but him. Why was our connection so impossible to break?
* * *
“This is who you have been sneaking around with all these months?” Roger shouted from the top step of the balcony. “How could you do this to me?”
Seeing the pain in his eyes cut me. “I'm sorry. It isn't what it seems,” I said, pushing Jameson away.
“You are in the arms of another man,” he yelled. “How can it not be what it seems? Has this been the James you cry for in the night? What were your plans for us, Blanche? Keep us both on hand until you decided who was the better man? Were your proclamations of love lies, too?”
“No! I love you, Roger. I never lied about loving you,” I said, rushing up the steps to him.
When I was about halfway, I stopped as black tendrils slithered by me and up the staircase. I searched to see where they were coming from and my eyes stopped on Amaro. Standing by a tree, he wore an evil smile as he pushed even more threads towards me.
“No, Roger, please go back into the house. I'll come with you. I will explain everything,” I screamed, pleading with him.
“You want me to run away so you can say goodbye to your lover? I'm not going to do that, Blanche. Is it even my child you're caring, or was that a lie?”
“Yes! Yes, it's yours … it's our child. I promise you, it's our child. Please go back into the house. This me
ans nothing,” I said, pointing at Jameson. “You are the one I want to be with. Please trust me. You need to go back into the house.”
I pleaded for him to go. My heart pounded in my chest as terror gripped me. Roger was innocent in all of this. I had to send him away to save him. I could not lose another person I loved. Sadly, my fear acted as fuel for the tendrils. As it fed on my emotions, they grew larger and moved quicker.
“Please Roger,” I cried out again, but it was too late.
The black strands wrapped themselves around his legs and travelled up his body. When he comprehended what was happening, he couldn't run from it. With a mighty throw, the tendrils jerked him back, and then released him forcefully into the air. There was nothing I could to but watch in horror. Everything began to move in slow motion. The anger he wore on his face turned to fear before he hit the willow tree.
A scream tore from my lips. Instinctively, I tried to run to him. Jameson tried to stop me, but I pushed him away. I felt desperate as my life fell apart around me.
When I finally reached Roger, I cried, “I'm sorry. I didn't mean for you to get hurt. I wanted to protect you. You have to believe. I never lied about loving you.”
Roger opened his eyes and stared at me as a line of blood flowed out the side of his mouth. His words were gargled and forced when he spoke. “I love you … I … am … sorry I wasn't the man you deserve.”
“You were,” I insisted. “You were more than I deserved.” Tears streaked my face. “Don't speak. Help will come soon.”
My words were unnecessary. His labored breathing slowed, and the light in his eyes faded. It happened so fast. He was gone.
What have I done? I wrapped my arms around his limp body, and held him. “No, no, you can't leave me, Roger. I need you.”
A hand touched my shoulder. I shivered as Amaro sent his magic through me. It soaked up my pain, strengthening him. “Aren't you going to thank me? I have solved your problem. Now, you can be with her guard … if that's what you want. Of course, I would prefer you choose to come with me instead. I will give you the world you deserve. You will want for nothing by my side.”