The Heart Between Kingdoms

by Mary Dublin

  "She wants to stay in the cage?" Daniel asked when he arrived in the evening. Even on the other side of the bedchamber, he kept his voice hushed.

  "It's what she knows, I suppose. I can't be sure, she still won't speak to me," Esmae muttered, helping him out of his coat. Daniel took it from her arms, draping it distractedly over the top of a carved griffon guarding the fire. He'd taken well to the news of the refugee sharing their bedroom, but he couldn't be faulted for his shock.

  "And you explained about Evrosea? What... you were before?"

  Esmae nodded. "I don't think she believes me. I can't blame her after what she endured." She fiddled nervously with the end of her braid." Would you try to speak to her?"

  "Me?" Daniel gave her an incredulous look. "Es, if you couldn't get through to her, I doubt I'll do more than terrify her."

  Esmae smiled, slipping her hands into his. Tenderly, she brushed her thumbs over his knuckles. "You worked wonders on me."

  He softened, looking from Esmae's pleading expression to the cage sitting on the round table on the other side of the chamber. The fireplace and candlelight provided ample illumination for him to see the tiny figure willfully huddled behind the bars.

  "I'll try," he murmured, pressing a kiss to Esmae's forehead.

  He approached the table with soft, cautious steps. The cage door was wide open, but the fairy ignored it. Though she was still curled into herself, she had moved away from the bars to sit beside the supper that Esmae had left for her: soft chunks of bread and a warm slice of parsnip. For all her stubbornness, she couldn't turn that down.

  She froze and turned her head as Daniel drew near her, eyes going round when she realized she was his destination.

  "Ah, no, wait, you can keep…" Daniel trailed off.

  Before he could get more than a few words out, the fairy had scrabbled away from the food as if she had been caught doing something wrong. She tucked her legs in and hugged herself, pointing her wide-eyed gaze at the cage floor. Even in the long-sleeved gown Esmae had provided, she shivered.

  "I'm sorry for startling you," Daniel said earnestly, lowering himself to the seat in front of the cage. "Don't cut your dinner short on my account. Please, keep eating if you're—"

  He stopped when she shook her head vigorously without looking up.

  "You're not hungry?" he asked gently. She shook her head again vigorously. "Well, if you're sure. It's… nice you meet you, Miss. My name is Daniel."

  She looked up suddenly, appearing even more petrified. "Her husband. The king." The fairy shrank back further when he leaned in to hear her tremulous voice.

  "I suppose Esmae brought my name up, then?" No answer. "She told me what you've been going through," he pressed on. "Or, at least, what she could gather from what she witnessed. If I had any idea this was going on in a marketplace in my own kingdom…" He eyed her sympathetically and sighed. "I know an apology won't be of much use to you, but I can assure you, I'll make this right in any way I can. You're under our protection now."

  "You want to keep me," the fairy said after a long pause.

  Esmae cringed, catching the accusation from the bedside.

  "Not in the slightest," she heard Daniel reply calmly. "As I'm sure she's explained, we merely want to return you home in a better state. You want that too, don't you?"

  She shook her head again, little eyes wide.

  "That's alright, you don't have to say right now," he said, giving a handsome hint of a smile. "I just want you to be safe."

  "I know what men want." Her little voice was so sudden and cold, it stopped Daniel in his tracks. "You'll be the same."

  Muted disgust crossed his face, and he shared a look with Esmae. So what she had witnessed in the marketplace hadn't been an isolated incident by any means.

  "You know what shameful and dishonorable men want," Daniel replied, no patience lost in his voice despite the accusation. "But you can be sure that I'm not going to lay a finger on you."

  Though the fairy looked utterly unconvinced, she said, "Then what do you want? I may as well say it now, so you're not disappointed in the long run: I have nothing to offer. No magic."

  Esmae straightened up with a frown, and when the fairy caught her expression, she took it as confirmation of the royal couple's true intentions.

  "That's right. I am of no use to you, so you can stop," she went on, speaking more in that short amount of time than she had in the entirety of the afternoon. "Stop pretending you care. There is nothing for you to gain from the effort."

  Daniel leaned forward, his ice blue eyes fixing on her in a way that demanded attention. "A witch's work?" he guessed, the idea making his face darken.

  The maiden gave him a long, hard look from between bars. But with the way he was filling her only exit, she didn't dare refuse him an answer. "No," came the cautious reply. "I've never met a witch. But there's nothing left, I swear."

  Daniel pursed his lips, sighing out softly through his nose. "Well, whatever the case, I'm very sorry for your loss."

  She frowned at him, looking utterly unsure how to reply. Esmae couldn't help but smile privately. She'd felt much the same, not so long ago. Gracious as ever, Daniel didn't let her hesitation stretch into awkwardness.

  "I can't restore what was taken from you, but we can see about tending to your wings. I understand that they're in quite a state, aren't they?" After a moment of deliberation, Daniel unfurled a hand at the edge of the cage. Esmae held her breath as the fairy raised her head, a strange look coming over her. "I promise, no more harm will come to you outside those bars."

  The fairy glanced between his hand and his face, narrowing her eyes. "You… promise?"

  Daniel nodded. "I promise."

  To Esmae's amazement, the fairy rose up. She wavered on her feet before cautiously crossing the short distance of the cage floor. She stopped just short of the threshold, where Daniel's offered hand waited on the other side. No one in the room dared to draw a breath.

  The fairy eased forward and leaned out, but instead of climbing onto Daniel's hand, she gripped a bar on the open cage door, swinging it inward to complete the barrier between her and the rest of the room.

  "Promises have been as useful to me as apologies," she said coldly, turning her back on Daniel's astonished face. She strode back across the cage, ignoring the food along the way. "Keep this game up if it entertains you so, but I'm not playing."

  Daniel resigned. He stood up in silence, brushing his hands over his tailored shirt.

  "If you change your mind… This door will stay unlocked," he told her softly.

  There was no more answer as he turned to leave, but the fairy kept her eyes on his retreating back until he was out of sight. When he was gone, and the curtains to the enormous bed drawn, she bowed her head into her knees and cried.

  Through the archway ornamented with lavish scrolling of ivy on the plaster and stone, the king's bed had gone dark. He and his queen were both asleep. Tessa had waited hours to ensure they truly were. Now she was certain, and it was time to move.

  The gown she'd been all but forced to wear trailed on the cage floor as she crept to the door. It snagged on a rusty bar as she stepped down onto the table, and she gave a skittish yelp as it tugged her backward.

  Clasping a hand over her mouth, Tessa snapped her head towards the bedchamber. There was no sign that they had stirred. The only sounds in the room was the couple's faint, peaceful breaths and her own hammering heart. She relaxed, tugging her the gown free with a scowl. She was not used to being responsible for so much fabric. Hengest Highwater had so scarcely allowed her to cover herself in ordinary gowns. Pretty things shouldn't be covered up, he said.

  Men didn't like that.

  Determined to not make another peep, Tessa crept to the edge of the table and looked down over the side, fidgeting with a lock of her hair between her fingers. The firelight was dying into embers, but she could see well enough.

  The journey to the floor wasn't going to be fun, but she ha
d no other choice. She couldn't wait around and wonder if she could make it. She had to make it.

  Mindful of the hem of her dress, she pushed herself over the side of the table so her legs dangled directly over the cushion of the seat. Trying to make the fall as short as possible, she lowered herself slowly, gripping the edge of the table with her hands. Shutting her eyes, she let go.

  It wouldn't have been so bad if she'd managed to keep her balance, but the cushion was softer than she anticipated. The moment her feet touched down on the plush surface, she fell onto her wings.

  Her breathing hitched, and she rolled onto her side, muffling a whimper that threatened to burst loose as a scream. Her wings twitched against the thread that restrained them, throbbing. She lay there on her side, waiting for the brunt of the pain to pass.

  Once she gathered herself, she shifted to her hands and knees, positioning herself once again to make her way to the floor. This time, she hugged the polished leg of the chair. As strange as it was to have so much fabric on her, at least her long sleeves allowed her to slide down without burning her arms. But it also meant having to use more strength to keep from losing her grip. She gritted her teeth all the way down, arms straining from the effort. She weighed next to nothing, but that made little difference after spending years with no opportunity to maintain physical strength.

  Her efforts were rewarded when her feet touched the ground. Tessa wavered with relief. She didn't have a clue about where she was going, but the fact that she could go at all was so foreign that she wanted to collapse and weep.

  She gathered the skirt of the gown and ran for the door. Even in a palace, she imagined, there was a chance of imperfections at the bottom of the massive wooden door that would allow her to pass through. If not, the chamber she was being held captive in was enormous. There had to be a way out for her somewhere.

  Before she could make it anywhere near the door, a scuffling sound came from the other side and made her stop in her tracks.

  "No," she murmured. "No, no, no."

  Her heart, already pounding from the run, was suddenly on the verge of bursting. There was a human on the other side of the door.

  She didn't have to think twice before changing course and diving under the shadow of a nearby armchair that sat in front of the dying fire. And not a moment too soon.

  The door hardly even creaked as it was pushed open from the other side. Tessa huddled behind a stout leg of the armchair and peered out, confident that she was hidden well enough to not be spotted. Still, her blood grew cold. If the king and queen were awoken by the intruder, they would certainly find the empty cage.

  A flickering circle of candlelight followed a pair of feet across the carpet. Tessa was struck by how small they were for a human. It was a child, she realized. A frightened one, judging by the little, gasping breaths she was making.

  She moved quickly despite her age, scurrying for the bedchamber as though there was someone on her heels. Tessa leaned out to look at the door. It swung closed with a slow hiss of the hinges. But no one was in the hall beyond. It looked as though the young girl would shuffle right to the king and queen's bed never the wiser of the fairy hiding under the chair.

  Halfway across the room, the feet stopped in their tracks. Tessa whipped herself back behind the chair leg as they turned in her direction. For a long moment, there was only the sound of the girl's labored breathing and the crackling of the dying fire.

  "Uncle Brennan? Is… is that you?"

  Tessa hardly dared to breathe as the steps delicately approached the fireside.

  "H-hello?" the timid voice tried again, bringing the candlelight closer.

  Tessa waited, but the girl would not move from her spot. As the seconds ticked on, an icy sensation gripped Tessa's stomach. Somehow—though she hadn't a clue how—the girl knew she was there.

  "W-where are you?" The girl choked out the words like she might cry. "Please, you're scaring me."

  Fresh fear washed over Tessa, but it was a puzzling sensation. Almost as if the fear wasn't her own, though it did fuel her trembling. She didn't have the capacity to analyze the feeling.

  The silence drew out, with her praying that the girl's strangeness would pass. But it did no such thing. When the human child spoke again, she was not addressing Tessa. "D-Daddy," she whimpered, apparently too petrified to move. Her voice rose slightly. "Mommy!"

  "No!" Tessa blurted. "Please!"

  In an instant, the chamber was drowned in silence again. Tessa held her breath, listening closely. No sounds came from the bed, and the girl didn't make to call out again. She merely stood there, unmoving as a statue.

  When her feet finally shifted, Tessa nearly jumped out of her skin. The candlelight became brighter as the girl approached the armchair, her breaths still short and frightened.

  "Who's there?" the girl whispered in a thready voice.

  The candle holder was set on the ground with care, and Tessa watched helplessly as the girl lowered herself to her hands and knees. Tessa's legs finally responded to her frantic pleas to run, carrying her to the center of her hiding place. A waste of energy, a voice at the back of her head told her. The space under the armchair was low, but not enough to deter a small human child.

  Tessa dared to look the girl's way. A pair of ice blue eyes locked onto her—the same eyes as the king. The sight made Tessa's knees go weak with terror, drawing her voice out.

  "Go away!" she gasped. Her voice dropped to a weaker plea as she shuffled back, her throat growing tight. "Leave me alone, p-please. Just leave me alone."

  "I don't mean to hurt you!" the girl squeaked in alarm. Now there was confusion with the fear, but not the shock that Tessa would have expected for a human spotting a fairy for the first time in their short years. "I-I don't even know who you are. What are you doing under there?"

  Tessa sucked in a deep breath. Instinct was to stay silent, but she couldn't very well wish this problem away. Talking seemed best if it meant keeping the princess from waking her parents.

  "I'm hiding," Tessa croaked.

  "From who?"

  "Humans. All of you. Humans hurt fairies."

  The girl shifted. The strange, foreign fear that had been coursing through Tessa's body began to lessen. She sighed in relief, feeling as though she could breathe more easily.

  "I'm not going to hurt you. I promise. Could you…" The girl hesitated. "Could you come out so I could get a better look at you?"

  "No!" Tessa answered without having to stop and think about it. "No. You'll grab me."

  The girl's eyes widened, and she let out a soft noise of horror, as if Tessa had said something awful. "I won't grab you! Mommy and Daddy have told me to never ever grab fairies. It's not nice."

  Tessa frowned, perplexed into silence. It was easy to assume that human adults lied easily, but this girl seemed too young to be conjuring falsehoods so casually. Without a doubt, the princess had met fairies before. Tessa shook her head. She already knew the king and queen must have had contact with fairies at some point, seeing as the queen happened to have a fairy-sized dress laying around. That didn't mean it had been good contact.

  "I can't come out," Tessa said when she found her voice. "How am I supposed to know you're not lying? I don't know you."

  She half-expected the girl to get upset, but instead, she turned thoughtful. "I'm Aveline of Mirrel," she announced. "And it's very nice to meet you." The words somehow managed to sound rehearsed and genuine at the same time. "Who are you?"

  She hesitated. "Tessalin of… it doesn't matter. Just Tessa."

  "Tessa. So now we know each other." A smile appeared on the girl's round face.

  Something gentle surged through Tessa so suddenly that it was almost frightening. It didn't feel normal. A human child's smile had never affected her so. If anything, it should have made her nervous. But it was as though a wave of assurance flowed directly from the princess. Strange, but… good. It felt like magic.

  Impossible.

  Tessa
swallowed hard, easing closer cautiously, ready to rush back if she needed to. "You… you're something special, aren't you?"

  The princess backed away to give her room as she neared. She looked quite pleased with herself when Tessa sent her a nervous half-smile from behind the chair leg. Though she moved no further than where the chair's shadow ended, the girl's eyes twinkled with innocent joy.

  All at once, another rush of that strange magic swept through her.

  "How are you doing that?" Tessa stammered, hand clasped over her breast. Her breathing was shaky in the most pleasant of ways. "My heart's racing. I haven't felt like this since I went flying for the first time, as a little girl."

  "It's… my gift," Aveline answered carefully. Another practiced reply. "Mummy says I feel so much, sometimes fairies can feel it too."

  "And… you can sense us, as well?" Tessa pried.

  The child answered with a nod. It was very hard to be frightened of those baby teeth and dimpled cheeks, though the source of her power was baffling to say the least.

  The queen. Tessa thought back to her afternoon with Queen Esmae, and her strange stories. She claimed to have once been a fairy herself, turned human by a witch to be with her love. It had seemed like a ridiculous tale woven to gain her trust at the time. But now…

  "Your mother—" Tessa broke off, glancing nervously towards the bedchamber as though the very mention might wake the king and his wife. "She has fairy blood in her, doesn't she?"

  Aveline nodded earnestly. "That's how I got my gift. Mummy used to be a fairy."

  Tessa suppressed a sigh of concession, supposing the queen must have been telling the truth. The princess of living proof of it with her gift. Still, Tessa couldn't bring herself to not be wary. The girl may have been innocent, but that didn't mean Tessa could afford to hand her trust over to the parents so readily.