He grimaced, nodded and then hesitated. “Mostly.”
What had that meant? I wished I could stand up and walk away from the whole situation. My new-found forgiveness hadn’t come with trust, and I suddenly wanted nothing but to escape. I didn’t want to hear her story or to feel sorry for her. The anger and hatred were gone, but I wasn’t ready to replace them with liking.
Melisande sighed, her face darkening. William looked between us a little helplessly, clearly unsure what to do next. “Perhaps you should tell us your story,” he said at last.
“Certainly if you wish it.” She looked out of the window for a moment, her eyes unfocussed. “I assume you know what happened before my banishment. I do not know if the request I made immediately following your birth, Celeste, was honoured or not. Perhaps you don’t know that my husband and child died in the weeks before you were born.”
My face remained impassive, but William looked shocked and confused.
“This house had been built many years ago for people such as myself. I was delivered here with the promise that I would never leave. And I did not want to. For a while I barely moved. I had been left supplies, and I did no more than was required to keep me alive. And then, one day, as I staggered out for fresh water, I saw a beautiful flower. The deepest, most vivid red I had ever seen. And the darkness lifted, just the tiniest fraction.
“Most days after that got a little better. Some days I slid backwards again, but then the next day I would creep forward towards the light. This little guy found me.” She patted the monkey who still clung to her shoulder. “He was barely more than a baby, and had lost his mother somehow. Having his company made a big difference. But full awareness brought with it a terrible burden. The memory of what I had done.” Her eyes locked on me. “I considered ending it all, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I knew I didn’t deserve peace.”
“I am truly sorry for what I did to you, Celeste. I would make any sacrifice now to free you. For years now I have thought of you every day. Imagined you growing and changing. Pictured you as you laughed and cried. You see, my daughter would have been your age if she had lived.
“For a short time my grief drove me to the edge of desperation. My anger overwhelmed me to the point where I couldn’t bear the resentment I felt towards your parents for having you and your siblings when I had nothing. I thought that your existence was a pain I could not bear. An unfairness against my own dead daughter.
“But I realised a long time ago now that it was precisely the opposite. A bit of my daughter lives on in you, her cousin. Your life could have given me a small glimpse into what her life would have been. You are my living connection to her–until one day I pass into the next realm and see her again in truth.”
Several more tears ran unheeded down her cheeks. “And I let my grief and anger nearly destroy you. I let it drive me to murder.”
I couldn’t prevent the heat rising in my face. All these years I had never once imagined looking at my aunt and seeing myself reflected back. Yet I had nearly let my hatred and anger drive me to murder too. It was a sobering realisation.
Not that I regretted the years she had spent in banishment. She had committed a great wrong, and her punishment had been just. But she was obviously repentant and, with the hatred gone from my heart, I found I wished no further suffering on her.
Any lingering doubt as to her role in the rebellion had disappeared. This woman had neither the will nor the resources to lead such an uprising. The same tickling at the back of my mind distracted me again. I was missing something, if only I could think what it was.
In the meantime, I needed to make some sort of response. Eventually my silence would become more jarring than my forbidden emotion. I found my voice and a thought innocuous enough to voice. “My mother told me my cousin had yet to be Christened. That she hadn’t been given a name. Did you choose one for her?”
My aunt looked surprised, then her face softened. “I called her Briar Rose–a name as bittersweet as her short life.”
William cleared his throat. “It’s a beautiful name.”
I wanted to reach across the table and hug him for making an effort in such an uncomfortable, tension-laden situation.
“How extremely touching,” said a voice from the doorway.
All three of us looked up, startled. We had been too wrapped up in the intensity of the moment to hear the sound of a new arrival.
Uncle Horace stood in the doorway, a group of guards at his back. His sister gazed at him coldly, no sign of greeting in her face for her younger brother. “Horace. I should have guessed as much.”
He barked a laugh. “You always were a little too knowing, Melisande.”
I glanced between the two of them, the niggle in the back of my mind flaring up into a terrible realisation. I had always prided myself on my intelligence, and as Aurora I had worked tirelessly to hone my skills. And yet I had let my hatred drive me to the wrong conclusion. I had let it blind me to the truth.
I had vowed to protect my kingdom, and then I had walked straight into my uncle’s hands.
Chapter 28
While my aunt and uncle locked eyes, William slowly slid the sword off the table and hid it in his lap. The godmother item would give us a small advantage in a fight, but I didn’t know how many guards my uncle had brought with him. We needed more information.
“Uncle Horace! What are you doing here?” I gave him my best court smile.
He rolled his eyes and glanced at William. “I can’t imagine what possessed you to bring her along. And where are the other two?”
He looked around the small single-roomed home as if he expected Celine and Aurora to leap out of a cupboard. “Ah well, it makes no difference in the end. The guards I left back at the beach know they have two princesses to take care of. It doesn’t much matter which two of you it is.”
A chill froze me to my seat. Celine and Marie. Would Celine see them coming? Would she be ready for them?
I wanted to jump up and run for the beach. But, as hard as it was, I had to put my trust in Celine. It would take all of my wits to get William and myself out of this alive.
“Horace!” Melisande’s horrified gasp didn’t seem to faze her brother in the slightest. “It’s one thing to come after me. But our nieces and nephews?” She shook her head. “I knew you had changed–ever since your visit to the other kingdoms when we were young. But I told myself you would never stoop so low. And that was all so long ago now. I don’t understand!”
“I am not an impatient man. I do not like to leave things to chance. I thought at first I could convince our brother of the error of his ways. But I see now that he will never listen.” He shot a poisonous look in my direction. “And his children are no better. So for a long time now I have been gathering my strength, ensuring that everything was in place for one decisive move.”
I had always known that Uncle Horace didn’t like us younger ones much, but I had never seen such a look of hatred in his eye. Clearly he had been holding back all these years. Even his apparent soft spot for Frederic and Cassian must have been a mask.
“I acted rashly, seizing an apparent opportunity, only once,” he continued, “and it failed me.” He shook his head. “I thought I could trust to a storm to do my work for me, and it could have led to my complete undoing. A reminder that nothing must be left to chance.”
A storm? My mother’s near death now made sense. My uncle must have found her searching for the captain and hit her over the head, dumping her outside and trusting to the storm to do the rest. Naturally he wouldn’t have wanted to risk his own skin by stepping onto the deck. Fury rose inside me.
I looked carefully at each person in the room and then pinned my confused gaze on Uncle Horace. “I’m sorry, Uncle. I don’t understand…”
He barked a short laugh. “Of course you don’t.” He looked at Melisande. “And my brother couldn’t even do what needed to be done then, either. It would have saved me a great deal of bother, if only
he had dealt with you as you deserved.”
Melisande arched a graceful eyebrow. “What threat have I been to you, brother, sequestered here on my island?”
“Threat?” Another laugh. “No threat. Just a loose thread. And I don’t like loose threads.”
Understanding dawned on Melisande’s face, and she nodded.
“You cannot think the kingdom will let you get away with mass murdering the royal family!” William’s voice remained steady, his eyes holding my uncle’s.
“I am doing this for the kingdom!” My uncle’s angry words sounded slightly unhinged. I could see that attempting to reason with him would achieve nothing–he believed in his cause to the exclusion of all reason.
“King Josef of Rangmere taught me a lot,” he continued. “The people need to be governed by a strong hand and a tight rein. My brother is a fool, and Lanover suffers under his rule. Our kingdom is capable of greatness, if he would but see it and act.” He shook his head. “But it is too late for that. It is clear he will not so act, and a new ruler is needed.”
How had I been so blind? With all my resources and contacts, I had still not recognised the truth. I had allowed my obsession with my aunt to taint every conclusion, unable to see what was right in front of me.
William spoke the words the curse prevented me from uttering. “And King Josef was murdered in his sleep by a member of his own family. I would hardly take him as a role-model.”
My uncle regarded him coldly. “You are young and blinded by beauty, or you wouldn’t be courting my foolish niece.” His eyes skimmed over me, clearly discounting me entirely.
I held my breath as I considered whether I could turn his disdain to my advantage. William continued to argue with him, but I no longer focused on their words. A window gave me a limited view outside the front door. I estimated at least twenty guards milled around out there.
I couldn’t imagine my uncle would have brought too many more than that. He came expecting to face four people, and the guards he had left at the beach would need to carry out their murders in the face of the entire crew of the Viktoria.
I had to force my mind away from the beach. I couldn’t help them now and thinking of them might get us killed.
William stood, his chair tipping backwards, the sword in his hand. “You will touch either of these women only over my dead body.”
My uncle regarded him coolly. “Yes, I have resigned myself to that necessity. Your parents will naturally be heartbroken to lose both you and your sister, but I will assure them the guilty parties have been brought to justice.” He took a step into the room. “My poor brother was too trusting when he allowed his evil and powerful sister to live. I was able to crush her rebellion, but not before her assassins got to you. All of you. Such a well-coordinated strike, to attack the king and princes in the palace, just as the rest of you reached this island. I barely escaped with my own life.” He shook his head. “And I pleaded with you all not to go, too.”
“Assassins?” I broke into wild sobs as I leapt to my feet, gambling on my uncle’s apparent lack of urgency.
He seemed to be revelling in speaking his mind after having to conceal his true feelings for so many years. I knew the sensation well enough to understand why he wasted so much time talking to his victims.
It helped that we were in a confined space, and William still held the Sword of Lanover. Attacking us would be a messy affair. If we wouldn’t come out the front door on our own, I doubted my uncle intended to lead the charge himself. Which meant we had a few moments yet. I doubted he would consider any movement of mine to be a threat, so I scurried around the table and threw myself into my aunt’s arms.
She staggered backwards before regaining her balance and patting me awkwardly on the back. Between the sobs I whispered in her ear. “Is there another way out of here?”
She stiffened, but only slightly before relaxing again. She turned her head, as if to comfort me further, and whispered, “Yes, around the corner, to the left of the fireplace. There’s a back door.”
“We’ll have to make a run for it, there’s no other way.”
“No.” Her arms tightened slightly around me. “You’ll have to make a run for it. This is my chance for redemption.”
Before I could argue, she snapped, “Celeste, stop your snivelling! It helps no one,” and thrust me away from her. I staggered towards William, who caught me with his left arm, bracing me against him as he kept his sword arm steady.
Melisande stepped forward, pushing up her sleeves, her eyes locked on her brother. “You can’t imagine I intend to simply give up on life without a fight, Horace. The real question is whether you are prepared to face me.”
My uncle wavered, even falling back half a step. “You’re bluffing.”
I suspected he had been as unable to find information on Melisande as I had been. He didn’t know what objects she might have been hoarding on this island all these years. What power she might still have.
I suspected now that his original plan had been to manipulate the situation to force William to use the sword against Melisande, before turning on us. If my mother hadn’t told Celine and I the truth, we might all be dead by now.
While his eyes were glued on his sister, I stepped back, in the direction my aunt had indicated. I pulled at William trying to draw him with me. He resisted. I tugged harder and then let go, taking another step back.
At the loss of contact, he finally broke his attention from the siblings and glanced my way. I widened my eyes, gesturing for him to follow me, and took another step back.
A spark flared in his eyes, and I hoped he had seen the door behind me and understood my intentions. When I took another step backwards, he mirrored my movement, both of us keeping our bodies angled towards the front of the room in an attempt not to draw my uncle’s attention.
“I’ve protected myself fairly effectively these last few years, have I not?” asked Melisande.
“So that hedge was you.”
“My godmother seemed to think I might need the protection. Would you care to find out what else she thought I might need?”
Uncle Horace blanched and took a second half step backwards. I could only hope Melisande was speaking the truth, and her godmother had left her with some magical aid. I didn’t intend to stick around and find out, however.
My back hit the door, and I fumbled blindly for the latch. I caught at it and eased the door open as quietly as I could.
My aunt stepped forward threateningly. Not even by the flicker of an eye did she betray her knowledge of our actions. Apparently she trusted we were making our escape unnoticed. I appreciated her faith and her discipline. If we escaped this, it would only be due to her intervention.
I couldn’t be sure that none of the guards had circled around to the back of the house, so I refrained from opening the door all the way. William took two more backwards steps and caught up with me.
At the exact moment he reached me, Melisande screamed and launched herself at her brother, the two of them grappling in the doorway. I whipped around, not waiting to see the outcome of the conflict, and shoved the back door all the way open.
Two guards stood in the small cleared space at the back of the house, but they looked startled and distracted by the sudden commotion from inside the house. I could have taken them out, but I held myself back at the memory that I wasn’t wearing a mask.
William stepped smoothly around them. “Go,” he grunted, moving forward to engage them. I had enough faith in his abilities to take off towards the cover of the jungle.
At the last moment, however, I hesitated, and glanced over my shoulder to check on him. He was pulling his sword from the shoulder of the second guard, pushing the man to the ground. Looking up, he met my eyes, and something in his expression made me falter. A root caught my foot, and I tripped, sprawling into the beginning of the undergrowth.
William reached my side in several long strides. He leaned down and grasped my hand. For less than a second
he paused, staring straight into my eyes with an emotion too intense for me to name. Then he yanked me to my feet, his gaze still fixed on my face.
“Aurora, RUN!”
He took off into the jungle, towing me behind him.
My body took over and propelled me forward without conscious thought, years of training kicking into motion. I threw off his hand, knowing we would run faster unconnected, but stayed as close beside him as I dared.
My mind was in free fall. Too shocked to comprehend our head long flight. He had called me Aurora! Had it been a mistake? A slip of the tongue?
But no, the weight of his eyes from that single second seemed to burn me still. Something had changed inside Melisande’s house. William had known what he was saying.
Loud yells, and the crash of bodies through the trees, announced that some, at least, of the guards pursued us.
A searing pain lanced through my left leg. I stumbled and then regained my stride, now a couple of steps behind William. The arrow had only nicked me, but the pain brought my full awareness back to our flight.
The impossible had happened, I had found someone who truly knew me, the whole me–and now we were both going to die.
I threw my head back and screamed, the sound ripping through the jungle, laden with more anger than pain.
Chapter 29
I refused to die. And I refused to let them kill William. I pushed my legs to move faster, despite the pain.
We ducked between trees, leaping over fallen logs and pushing through the ferns. I hoped desperately that neither of us landed on a snake. The sun had risen while we talked inside my aunt’s home, so at least we had light enough to see our way.
Unfortunately, so did our pursuers.
“What in the kingdoms have they got chasing us? A dragon?”
I shook my head as I ran, but it certainly sounded as if one of the mythical fire beasts could be tearing up the forest behind us. Their archer had stopped firing, so I assumed they had lost sight of us and were following by sound.
The Princess Game: A Reimagining of Sleeping Beauty (The Four Kingdoms Book 4) Page 21