Gwyn: Light Chaser Legends Book 2

by Cantwell, J. B.

  Forever?

  She turned back to the mirror, back to the reflection of someone grown. Someone beautiful. And for the first time, she recognized that maybe she would have other gifts, other talents with which to make her way.

  She was not only beautiful but powerful. And with this gift from her mother, she knew now what she had to do. To escape was the goal. She didn’t know if her father would approve of any of the kings about to descend upon the castle, but if she could trick one of them into taking her far away from that place, her greatest desires would have been fulfilled. She could live a free life, for no mere king could ever stop her from leaving.

  She was without words. But then, she let her gaze fall upon her feet once more and slowly let her eyes take in her body all the way from her feet to the top of her head. Slowly, she raised her eyes until she was looking at herself in the shattered mirror. She was brave. She was ferocious.

  And she would be victorious.

  The Kings

  The next day, the first of the kings arrived. The King of Eagleview Kingdom came with his own set of servants and a sorcerer at his right hand. Gwyn watched as the procession made its way through the empty courtyard. She tried to imagine what his arrival might’ve been like during a time where people, regular people, lived in this castle and its tiny village. Maybe there would’ve even been a parade. People might’ve cheered, welcoming this man and his servants to their isolated home by the sea.

  As it were, none of Torin’s family was allowed to stand outside with him to greet his guests. That was fine with Gwyn. Despite her new identity, she still felt nervous, and the idea of marrying a king seemed far-fetched and well out of reach. She watched from an east-facing window as the man approached.

  He was no young man, that was for certain, and his belly preceded him as he sauntered into the castle. From afar, she could see his long, red beard, which draped over his chest. The color wasn’t unlike the hair on her head, and for the briefest moment, she tried to imagine what it would be like to bear this man’s children.

  No. She would escape at the earliest opportunity. She would learn to be cunning like her father, only without the hatred in his heart. Or so she hoped.

  Beside the king stood a tall young man, his brown hair tied back into a ponytail. This man looked around the castle as if he were far above it and everyone within. She felt like she could see his mind even from a distance, and while she frowned at him, she looked forward to their meeting. She’d never met anyone outside the family except for the servants. This would be the first time in her life that Torin allowed visitors to the castle. Maybe the first time ever.

  A maid surprised her from behind, and Gwyn jumped.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, miss,” she said. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

  Gwyn turned quickly to face her. “You didn’t frighten me,” she corrected. “What is it?”

  “I was sent to fetch you and get you ready for dinner,” the maid said. “But I see by your beautiful dress and hair that you already are. Would you care to join the men in the lounge?”

  “The men?” she asked. “What about my mother?” Suddenly she was nervous.

  “Yes, of course, your mother will be there as well. But Torin has instructed us to retrieve his children first.”

  Gwyn’s hands balled up into fists, and she tried unsuccessfully to take a deep breath. But she couldn’t allow herself to be seen as weak, not even by a servant. She had no disdain for this girl, but if she wanted to marry a king, she figured she’d better start acting like it.

  Gwyn put her chin a touch higher in the air and walked away from the girl, her high-heeled boots clicking along the stone on her way to the lounge. It seemed like a lifetime ago that she would play her little games, hopping along from stone to stone.

  Those days were over.

  After a moment, she realized the servant was following her. She paused, turning. “Did you need something else?”

  “Oh, no, miss,” she said. “But if you would be so kind as to allow me to accompany you to the door, I’d be forever in your debt.”

  This brought Gwyn up short, and she stopped walking altogether. “But why?”

  The maid looked down, her cheeks blushing hot red. “It’s just that it’s expected of me,” she said. “And I dare not deviate from the plan.”

  Gwyn looked at her, trying to make sense of her statement. She tilted her head a little and frowned. “Tell me. How did you come to be here? Why do you work in this castle?”

  The maid did not raise her head again, and instead, her eyes stayed focused on the floor. “I cannot tell you, miss.”

  “And why not?”

  “We are bound by secrecy, and if it were ever discovered, I would be murdered in a most painful fashion.”

  This wasn’t the first time Gwyn had heard a servant speak this way, but this time she was determined to get an answer.

  “I’m assuming you are well aware of my father’s temper,” Gwyn said.

  The maid nodded.

  “And you say you must accompany me to the room, is that correct?”

  The maid nodded again.

  “Tell me the truth. I’ll let you lead me anywhere in exchange. I’ll even let you follow me when I leave this place.”

  The girl looked up, her eyes wide with fear and surprise. “Oh, no, miss,” she said. “I could never leave.”

  “Why?”

  This seemed to be too much for the girl, and instead of answering her superior, she turned and ran full-out back down the hall.

  Gwyn looked after her, confused and not for the first time. Why did the servants stay?

  She took the last twenty steps to the door of the lounge on her own, and while it might’ve been more ladylike to allow someone else to open it for her, the girl had run off, and Gwyn didn’t have a choice. For a moment, she felt bad about this. The girl would likely get into trouble now. But she couldn’t let herself care because she knew she was headed into battle.

  A play on words.

  An ample serving of wit.

  A toss of her long, red hair.

  She was ready.

  * * *

  She was seated next to the young man at dinner, but it was the king sitting across from her that held her interest. He was a big man, long since young, and old enough to be her father or maybe a grandfather. But it didn’t matter. Of all the years dreaming of escaping with her mother and Bevyn, she found herself selfish as she was presented with this new opportunity.

  She would leave them behind if she had to. Thinking this broke her heart, but it taught her something as well.

  She was not so unlike her father.

  The king spoke with her father in jubilant fashion, drinking bottles of wine, his meal stuck in his beard. As the night went on, she became less and less entranced by the idea of joining this man in life.

  It wouldn’t be for life. Just long enough to get out of here.

  The food was delicious, and even Bevyn was at the table, unshackled this night. But she found she wasn’t hungry, and while she might’ve joined the king in his overconsumption of wine, she knew she had to keep her wits about her. Every once in a while, the king would glance at her and give her a wink. She would try to smile when he did this, but it was difficult.

  “Your father tells us you enjoy gemstones,” the young man beside her said. “Is this true?”

  Suddenly, she was confused. Which one of these men was she supposed to play to?

  Since that night with the makeup, Gwyn had been practicing in the mirror. She’d read stories about kings and queens and princesses, and she felt she got the general idea. Princesses were better than just about anyone, and so, in that old cracked mirror, she’d practiced.

  Don’t think. Just pretend.

  “It is true,” she said cautiously. “Our home is beautiful, but you may see we are not adorned with precious jewelry like other women of our stature might be.”

  “Well,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “That’
s quite an answer.”

  “Who holds the jewels?” she asked. “Is it you?”

  At this, the young man tilted his head back, laughing. She glared at him, her temper rising. How dare he laugh at her. How dare he even speak to her with everything she’d gone through in her short life.

  “I fear, my lady, that it is I who holds the jewels,” the king said.

  “Then perhaps I should be sitting beside you and not him,” she said.

  This time, the whole table erupted with laughter, and she played along, trying to remind herself that she was not being insulted but instead being charming.

  The king pushed his chair back slightly. “You need not sit next to me,” he said. “There is a seat for you right here.” The king patted his lap, and she raised an eyebrow, turning to see her father’s reaction.

  She wasn’t wrong to expect some sort of response from him, though she wasn’t sure what it would be, and indeed his face looked inscrutable. After a few moments, and after a few different emotions crossing his face, he smiled and spoke.

  “Surely, your highness, you will understand why I cannot permit that,” he said. “She is just a babe dressed up like a woman, and as such, will not be ready for marriage or any lap-sitting for quite some time.”

  More laughter.

  Stay calm.

  She was smart. She knew she was smart. But how to act now? She felt she’d ruined all, and nothing so generous as a gemstone appeared to be coming her way.

  “Ah, sir,” the king said. “Might I throw my hat into the ring for a future wedding then?”

  “And what, may I ask, has become of your wife?” Torin asked.

  “Which one?”

  At this, the entire table was in an uproar. But Gwyn thought she’d seen enough. She rose abruptly from the table, taking care not to look directly at her mother. She was on her own in this charade, and there was little her mother could do to help her now.

  “Gentlemen,” she said. “The time has come for me to take my leave. I bid you goodnight.”

  “Gwyn,” her father said harshly. “I would like for you to stay.”

  Something has shifted in her, though she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. It had only been twenty-four hours since her mother had fixed her face and given her counsel, and yet she felt different. Unwilling.

  And powerful.

  Was it possible for someone without magic to feel powerful?

  Yes.

  She glared at her father, and suddenly she was no longer worried for her own safety. Bevyn looked nervous, and for a moment, she realized her attitude might be causing him further trouble. But she knew that in the weeks to come, several more kings would arrive, and it wouldn’t do for Bevyn to appear ruined before them.

  This was her chance.

  “Goodnight, Father,” she said.

  And she walked from the table, but not before the young man grasped her hand.

  “My lady,” he said. “I am sorry if I offended.”

  She stuck up her chin and regarded him.

  I am the princess, and he is nothing.

  She was determined to act like it. She retrieved her hand from his grasp and turned, walking out the door and slamming it shut behind her.

  * * *

  Back in her room, she loosened the dress where it laced up across her chest. Suddenly, her reflection in the mirror no longer comforted her. She knew what was under the makeup, what was under the dress. She knew she was just a girl, even if she was on the edge of becoming a woman.

  She’d denied her father that night, and she felt sure she would pay for it later. But, like Bevyn, he could not ruin her between visitors. Besides, he needed her. She was the bait, and though the kings and sorcerers would come to discuss magic, she knew they would be discussing her as well.

  She may have been young, but she was no fool. Years and years of terrible abuse had resulted in her growing up far too soon, and though she still felt young, her changing body was enough to reassure her of her power.

  Within an hour, her mother was at her door, letting herself into the room and locking it behind her as she’d done before.

  “What you did was very dangerous,” she said. “Gwyn, that wasn’t part of the plan.”

  Suddenly, Gwyn was irate.

  “Part of the plan?” she asked. “There was no plan but for me to look beautiful and somehow get the king to give me his jewels. Oh yes, and I was supposed to do this all without magic. How in the world could you imagine me being desirable in a situation like that if I were not to leave when I did?”

  Her mother opened her mouth to speak, but no words came, and Gwyn knew she’d won the argument.

  Gwyn turned back to the mirror and practiced holding her head up high without looking like a fool. She turned from one side to the next, taking in her reflection, the way the dress hugged her body, the way the makeup had erased all evidence of Torin’s abuse.

  Her mother walked up behind her and put her hands upon her shoulders. “You’re right,” she said. “But I worry for you. And for Bevyn. He—”

  “I can’t take responsibility for everyone in this house,” Gwyn said. “I can barely make it day-to-day on my own. And I am on my own, Mother.”

  Gwyn turned to face her.

  “I know you are,” her mother said. “All of us are, even your brothers.”

  Gwyn scoffed.

  “As if my brothers have anything to worry about.”

  “You don’t see everything that happens in this house,” her mother said, and this time she was the one to raise her chin. After all, Riona was still taller than her daughter.

  “I have to get out, Mother,” Gwyn said, her outward attitude cracking a little. “When will we go?”

  Her mother’s chin dropped, and she looked down at Gwyn with concern on her face now.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “Every time I think I see an opportunity, he thwarts me again and again. I don’t know how he knows, but he does.”

  A knock came on the door, and both Riona and Gwyn jumped in surprise. For a moment, Gwyn was certain it was her father come to take his revenge upon her for her insolence. But then she saw the fear on her mother’s face, and she realized how much danger Riona was in. They were still not permitted to spend time alone, for that which Torin feared was exactly what was happening.

  “You must hide,” Gwyn said, pushing her toward the armoire. The thing was bursting with dresses, and it was easy to hide her mother within the folds of fabric.

  The knock came again, this time more insistent.

  “This is ridiculous,” her mother whispered as Gwyn closed the doors.

  “I know,” Gwyn said. “It will not be for long.”

  She turned and rushed toward the door to the bedroom, then opened it swiftly. Standing before her was her father and the drunken king. The man smelled of meat and wine, a stomach-turning combination.

  Torin pushed the king through the door, and then to Gwyn’s surprise, her father left him there and closed the door behind him.

  “My lady,” the king said. “As you wished, I’ve brought you your jewels.” He reached out his hand and showed her three large emeralds.

  Gwyn was surprised and not a little alarmed. She’d never had a man in her room before, much less a king.

  What would be expected of her?

  She didn’t reach out her hands for the gems, and instead, she regarded them cautiously.

  “Do you not want them now?” the king slurred, wobbling a bit.

  “Of course, Your Highness,” she said. “They are just so beautiful that I became distracted. May I hold them?”

  The king smiled and placed the gems into her outstretched hand.

  “Now,” he said, retreating to the bed, sitting down with a soft flump. “Why don’t you come and take that seat we discussed over dinner.” He patted his lap.

  She frowned at him, unsure, but she found she wasn’t scared. She carefully put the jewels on her bedside table and made a move toward him.
>
  It will take some trickery.

  The king smiled wide, bits of chicken caught between his mossy teeth. “There we are, girl,” he said. “Now, if you don’t give me any trouble, I suspect I can take you away from this place. Would you like that?”

  Gwyn paused, surprised.

  “You would do that?” she asked. “He would come after you, you know.”

  He scoffed. “That man is nothing compared to my sorcerer and me. We could take him apart easily.”

  For the first time in her life, she felt a need to defend her father. Not because she thought him unfairly judged with such disdain, but because she, herself, felt insulted.

  “Now come here,” he said, grabbing for one of her hands.

  It took a fair bit of effort for her to keep calm, to make him think she would tolerate such behavior.

  She allowed herself to be drawn closer to the king, close enough to smell his putrid, wine-laced breath. Then, when he pulled her until her body was up against his, she finally defended herself. He was just another guard, a sentry not unlike the man who guarded the dungeons.

  “Oh, Your Highness,” she said cloyingly.

  She carefully allowed her face to move closer to his as if she were just about to let him kiss her, but then, she waved her hand in front of his eyes, and she watched as his lids fluttered shut.

  She stepped back and pushed him onto the bed.

  Her father. That bastard.

  Now that the king was splayed out on the bed fully clothed, she wasn’t quite sure what to do with him. She heard a muffled sound coming from the armoire, and she suddenly remembered that her mother had been within it all along.

  She rushed to the doors and opened them wide, her mother spilling out from the gowns within. She caught herself before she fell to the floor and then looked from her daughter to the king, an alarming sight.

  “What did you do to him?” she asked.

  “He’s asleep,” Gwyn said.

  Her mother looked at her with concerned eyes.

  “That was very dangerous, what you did,” her mother said. “He could’ve easily overpowered you.”