The Heart Between Kingdoms

by Mary Dublin

  "It's alright," she told it in a soft voice. "He's very nice."

  She adjusted her arm, bridging her elbow to the side of Daniel's index fingertip. It wasn't until she made contact with him that she realized how casually she had approached him. Far more casually than she had any time before, and for the sake of handing off a butterfly. She pursed her lips to stifle a snort, not wanting to startle the insect away after everything.

  After a few long moments, the butterfly crawled across to the new surface.

  A triumphant smile took hold of Esmae's face as she stepped back. "You see that? It's braver than I am."

  Daniel looked nothing short of awestruck as the butterfly flexed its wings contentedly where it perched. He shared a breathless smile with Esmae—the only thing to break his intense concentration on keeping his hand steady.

  After a moment, the prince gained the courage to lift his hand from the ground. He paused when the blue wings fluttered anxiously, his focused frown deepening. The butterfly crawled to his first knuckle and went still again. Holding his breath, he brought his hand higher, carrying the little creature out in front of his eyes.

  "I don't believe it," he exclaimed. "What on earth did you tell it?"

  "I didn't say a word!" Esmae declared, hands on her hips. "It just likes you, that's all. You're a natural."

  "She's just trying to make me feel better," Daniel whispered into the wings. A wicked smirk appeared on his face a moment later, and Esmae realized, despite his focus, he was teasing her again.

  Her heart fluttered like beating wings. Even with that smile on his face, she could see the gentle fascination in his eyes as he watched the butterfly crawl along the slopes of his knuckles. Despite his hesitation, his hand was steady and absolutely careful.

  She'd known he wouldn't have a problem. After all, she'd seen his gentleness long before he even knew she existed.

  "I… may have told it that you were nice," she admitted with a sheepish shrug. "But they understand casual conversation as well as your hounds do. Believe me, it's you that's doing this."

  Daniel bowed his head in a sudden laugh. "If my father could see me now," he muttered.

  Esmae's smile faltered. "What about him?"

  "I don't think he'd like to see the future king playing with butterflies."

  She frowned, her hands planted on her hips. It hadn't occurred to her until she arrived at the castle that anyone could oppose Daniel's gentle nature—let alone his own, sickly father.

  "Well," she reasoned, "why shouldn't a king know the smallest of his subjects?"

  Daniel looked down at her, grinning. "I suppose you have a point."

  At this, the butterfly took flight from his fingertip. With a few tantalizing flaps before his eyes, it circled around his head and glided over to the garden. Daniel watched it depart, letting his hand drop back to the grass.

  She hardly flinched from the movement, her gaze following the butterfly until it mingled among its kin around a patch of marigolds. Esmae's shoulders tensed and untensed, all too aware of the emptiness at her back. What she would give to be able to join the butterflies.

  "They're how I first learned to fly, you know," she told Daniel wistfully. "I was a late bloomer when it came to my wings. No matter how my family tried to teach me, I couldn't seem to get it. But I was always in the garden, and there were always butterflies. I wanted to follow them, and one day I simply… did."

  A distant smile tugged at her lips at the memory of hovering over the flowers for the first time, able to see them properly without having to stand at a balcony.

  "I suppose it was because the butterflies didn't expect anything of me," she said with a chuckle. "There was still quite a bit for me to learn, though. I was too excited the first time and fell right out of the air. Funnily enough, my favorite flowers broke my fall." She grinned sheepishly, playing with the tip of a grass blade. "But a bed of violets isn't as soft as it looks."

  "I imagine not," Daniel remarked sympathetically. "I'll confess, I'm still having a hard time picturing you with wings. What were they like?"

  Esmae chewed on her lower lip. "They were quite long for a fairy. I got that from my mother, I'm told. Less colorful than a butterfly's, more sturdy." She let out a shuddering breath, trying not to let her wistfulness get the better of her. "In the winter, they got an extra covering that made them glitter in the light, like diamonds." Lifting her eyes, she forced a small smile. "Surely, you must have seen other fairies before?"

  "Only from a distance, and even then I was lucky," Daniel answered. "Your wings sound beautiful. I'm sorry you lost them."

  "They won't be gone forever," she said, feeling more confident just by saying it. "Maybe you'll even be able to see them."

  The smile that spread across his face made her knees go weak.

  "I hope I do. To see you fly would be amazing." The prince averted his gaze quite suddenly, all laughter leaving his face. He plucked at the grass, tearing entire blades in half with ease and sprinkling what was left in between. "So I will see you again?" Daniel asked, quiet. "Once you've squared things with the witch."

  For a moment, Esmae merely stared in puzzlement. There was no denying that something forlorn had entered Daniel's eyes.

  "I… can't be sure what I'll be returning home to," she admitted. "My dearest friend is the only one I told of my plans. I know Brennan won't tell others what I did, even if it means withholding truth. He tried to stop me instead of going to my father, after all. My disappearance will certainly have raised questions by now, but if I return without anyone knowing what I did, it seems I'm to be married off and sent away. But if they do know of my contract with the witch…"

  The thought made her stomach twist with knots. She could be banished, maybe imprisoned. She wasn't sure which was worse, and she didn't want to worry Daniel with such thoughts.

  Esmae sought his eyes, a coy lilt to her voice. "You want to see me again?"

  "So long as you're not hiding under my dining table again, I'd welcome it." Daniel smirked, but there was fondness in that smug look as well. Even the skeptic in her couldn't deny that. "You're truly a unique creature, Esmae, six inches or not."

  Chapter

  Six

  "I'm afraid the spell can only last for three days on its own," the witch said.

  Esmae's heart sank, disappointment mingling with the fear and excitement that the witch could give her what she wanted. "Three days? But, what do you mean by 'on its own'? Do you mean there's a way to make it permanent?"

  "Of course." The witch was beginning to look like less of a monster and more of a kindly old woman who only wanted to help. "I may not possess the power to make the magic last, by your human prince does."

  "Him? How?"

  "There's power in royal blood, my dear. Even a human's. Power runs through his veins and possesses his very aura. All you need from him is a kiss. If he kisses you before the magic has faded, you will be permanently human."

  Hope crept back into Esmae, and she dared to move away from the root ceiling to hover before the witch. "Is that all? I… I can do that."

  The witch frowned with concern. "This spellwork is more delicate than it sounds. The kiss must be true, you see. He must want it without knowledge of the spell or your true origins. You cannot tell him, or the magic has no chance of becoming permanent. This spell blooms from your passion, your desire. His is needed just as well."

  Esmae wavered. "And… if he doesn't kiss me?"

  A gentle smile touched the old woman's lips. "The spell will reverse, and you'll be your natural size again, of course."

  Relief flooded through her. It was a reasonable consequence. She was determined to get her kiss, but even if she failed, it would be as if nothing happened.

  "That sounds fair," Esmae said.

  "There is the matter of payment," the witch reminded her. She eyed Esmae's hovering body up and down expectantly, something greedy glinting in her gaze.

  Esmae didn't hesitate. "I'll be a human,
and you'll have my magic. Is that what you want?"

  "You're a clever girl, aren't you? Yes, your magic is what I ask. Other humans survive without it. So can you." The witch stepped closer and reached a bony hand toward her.

  Esmae flinched back in alarm, but the hand didn't move to grab her. Still, her heart thudded helplessly from being within reach. Her magic was good for warding off animals and humans if need be. It wouldn't be good against something as powerful as a witch. Luckily, the old woman only seemed to hold her hand out for a handshake. To seal the deal.

  "Do we have a contract?" the witch asked, eyes locked on Esmae.

  Esmae swallowed hard, feeling the weight and power of her own words as she spoke them. "You'll make me human for three days in exchange for my magic. If I kiss him within three days, the spell is permanent. If not, the magic will fade, and the spell will reverse. Is that right?"

  The witch grinned. "Precisely."

  "Then we have a contract." Esmae reached her hand out and allowed the old woman to take it gently between her finger and thumb.

  With more dexterity and speed than Esmae would have expected from an old woman, the witch turned her thumb and dug her sharp nail into Esmae's palm, drawing a thick line of blood.

  Sharp pain coiled into Esmae's senses and she reared back, loosing a shriek. She swore she could hear Brennan yelling her name as darkness took hold and dragged her into unconsciousness.

  Even after reading half a dozen entries about witch contracts, Esmae couldn't bring herself to accept what had been staring her in the face all along. Her blood was cold. Her hands were shaking.

  The emptiness at her wingless back felt emptier than ever.

  She'd been overjoyed when she finally discovered what she was looking for that evening: a section of one of the crumbling books dedicated to the deals that desperate humans made with witches.

  None of them ended well. Not a single one.

  Every victim was left without what they so desperately sought, and with even more taken from them in the end.

  Couples, desperate to have children, only to have their babies tricked from them by the witch whose magic made it possible. The lowborn, desperate for wealth, striking contracts that ended with their meager livelihoods snatched away. Young men and women, desperate for love, left with their hearts broken after being cheated out of everything they were.

  "Esmae?" Daniel's rumbling voice made her flinch.

  She couldn't make herself turn around. She had eagerly read aloud the first few entire, Daniel listening raptly. After that, she had fallen silent, scanning the pages with wide eyes, and he hadn't interrupted, though she'd felt the weight of his gaze at her back all the while.

  "I'm not getting my wings back," she said in a wavering voice. "The witch… this was no mistake. She knew precisely what she was doing. The wording… it was the damn wording of the contract. She meant to keep my wings and magic whether I succeeded or not."

  Daniel, who had been sitting back in his seat, now leaned forward to take a look at the page himself.

  "That can't be the end of it," he murmured. "These black magic sorts are always out for money and power. If we wave enough gold in her face, I'm certain we can convince her to grant you pardon."

  Esmae shook her head, hands tugging at the roots of her dark hair. "She won't take money over magic. I agreed. I agreed to all of it," she moaned.

  She flinched as Daniel laid a fingertip on her arm, gently trying to catch her eye. "Then there must be a way you can still make good on your end of the contract. What did you promise her?"

  Esmae's pulse quickened. She snapped away from his hand as if he would be able to feel it. "It doesn't matter anymore."

  "How can you say that?" Though she knew he meant well, she felt cornered as he grew more intense. He dragged a hand back through his own hair, growing impatient. "I'm trying to help you, but keeping me in the dark makes it difficult."

  "It's too late for you to help me," she insisted, tears stinging the back of her eyes. "It's over. I was given three days as a human, and I failed. This is my punishment. There's nothing you can do for me."

  When she looked at him, the deep frown on his face made her inch backwards. He knew she was holding something back, and she couldn't determine where the line between concern and anger would be drawn if he discovered he had been specifically involved with the black magic.

  "You had three days," he said slowly. "Three days to do what?"

  She shook her head, backing away until her heels reached the edge of the book. There was no place to run where he couldn't catch her. "I can't. It isn't important anymore. I-I'm sorry—"

  "Esmae! Please."

  The thud of her heart in her ears was nearly as loud as his voice. She wavered at the edge of the page and buried her face in her hands, unable to meet his frown any longer. The words rushed out before she could stop them.

  "I was supposed to get you to kiss me by the third sunset."

  "You—what?"

  "You were what I asked for. I wanted you." Now that this last, final truth had slipped her lips, she couldn't seem to hold back any of it. "Months ago, I glimpsed you when you passed through the woods. You and your men, on stallions. I knew straight away that I had to meet you. I had to be human. And now I… I just don't want to cause you any more trouble." Finally pausing for a breath, Esmae rubbed her eyes with her sleeves. More tears came. "It s-sounds so silly now."

  Even without looking, she could hear the prince scrambling for words. "I… I don't know what to say," he finally stammered.

  She could imagine how pathetic she looked. Smaller than the books she stood upon, not even able to fly off as she should. "Just take me back. I won't bother you again."

  "Take you back?" he echoed.

  "To the forest—to the edge, at least. I'll be able to find my way from there." Though she tried to compose herself, a shuddering sob racked through her shoulders. "I can't safely leave the castle grounds on my own. It won't take but a few minutes more of your time. I won't even complain about the pocket—"

  "Now hold on for just a moment," Daniel cut in, drawing her eyes up to his face. His gaze was fixed upon her, intimidating as it ever had been, but he seemed almost distant, recalling something. "That third day… you told me to kiss you. After my advisors warned me you weren't who you said you were, you told me to kiss you, and I…" He trailed off, his expression unreadable.

  Esmae shook her head. "I know. I sounded crazy, but I was desperate." As desperate as them. She peered at the book underneath her feet, her mind swimming with the humans who had fallen for witches' contracts. "I shouldn't have involved you," she murmured. "Let me make this right. Take me to the forest."

  "No, Esmae," he muttered. "That solves nothing."

  "Yes it does!" Her voice was thick and she was growing hysterical, but she couldn't bring herself to care anymore. Everything had been ruined. "It keeps me away from this place… Away from you. Away from all these lies."

  His stunned silence was deafening. Seeing as the prince was making no move to collect her himself, Esmae stepped down from the book and made a beeline for the edge of the table, muttering, "I've got to get out of here."

  Not two steps in, a giant hand slid in the way of her path. She nearly ran right into his palm.

  "Wait," Daniel rumbled.

  Though Esmae did her best to sidestep him, he was quick as ever. She felt a growl of frustration building in her throat.

  "Let me go," she commanded him as sternly as she could while stricken by tears.

  "I can't."

  "Daniel—"

  "I don't want you to leave," he blurted. In his haste, his voice came out loud like a crack of thunder. But it was the pleading tone that made Esmae stiffen up and face him. There was no false flattery in the piercing gaze above her. She had a feeling those eyes could never tell a lie.

  "Please," he breathed, softly now. "Not yet."

  "You don't have to feel responsible for me." The pessimist in her refused
to believe the look that had entered his eyes. "You're too kind for your own good. My mistakes shouldn't be yours to deal with."

  He breathed out sharply, rustling her hair. "You think this is about my guilt? It sounds to me like you're leaving for my sake. But I want you here." His stare didn't falter. "If you really want to get away from me, then I won't fight it. But I need you to tell me the truth, and forget about thinking for my sake alone. Do you really want me to take you to the forest?"

  Esmae blinked slowly. "No."

  Daniel's fingers shifted at her side, and suddenly her hand was engulfed in warmth, grasped gingerly between his thumb and fingertip. When she looked back up, his face all but filled her vision, but she held her ground.

  "You needed a kiss." His voice was lower, calmer. Esmae swore he could feel her racing pulse by then. When her eyes darted to his lips, she easily spotted the curious smile forming along with his question. "Do you want to try?"

  For a moment, she wondered if she'd heard him right. Beneath the glint in his eyes, she also saw uncertainty, as if there was even a chance she would turn him down.

  "Yes," she uttered.

  That smile flickered on his lips again. She clung tight to his finger as Daniel gently tugged her closer to him, step by stumbling step into his shadow. Her heart hammered as he leaned in.

  With only a breath left between them, Esmae suddenly had a flicker of fear. In all her daydreams, she'd never anticipated kissing him at her natural height. What if he didn't like it? What if she didn't like it? What would he do with her then?

  All worries were silenced as the heat of his lips brushed hers. It was a little frightening at first, feeling tinier than ever against him. But in the same moment, a wonderful warmth blossomed in her chest. This was not the chaste kiss that she'd feared. It was a true kiss. Letting out a soft mew of relief, Esmae set a hand on his chin and leaned into him.

  For a moment, she was determined not to feel small. She readily kissed him back, ensuring that he could feel her as much as she felt him. His scruff tickled her hand and shoulders, and her cheek slid against his soft skin as she nuzzled and pressed her lips to him again and again.