“The Moreland family bestiary—the one where the original chart came from. Haven’t we shown it to you? I thought I did when I was explaining the game—the book is the purpose.”
“This game has a purpose?”
Viola shut her journal and leaned over the balcony. “Its purpose is to make up lies and deceive people,” she said heartlessly. “The Moreland family bestiary is a record of all the creatures our ancestors made up and passed off as legitimate—five hundred years of lies. Charlie hopes to make a creation of his own good enough to add one day.”
The Prince frowned up at her. “Have I seen this bestiary yet?”
“I don’t know. We keep it down there in the alcove, not up here with the others.”
She watched in amusement as he shifted his expectant glance to Charlie. It was that mute, imperious demand that he had become so adept at giving, and Charlie immediately hopped into action. He pulled a battered old volume from the nearest shelf and dropped it into the Prince’s waiting hands.
“Everything’s alphabetical,” he said. “Some of the letters have a couple blank pages because they don’t have many creatures yet.”
The Prince flipped the book open and began to peruse its contents. Viola could guess what he was looking for, but she was fairly certain he wouldn’t find it. Sure enough, he suddenly said, “There’s no entry for the nifaran in here.”
“That’s because the Morelands didn’t make those up,” Charlie replied. “Besides that, they’re not chimeras at all—they’re humanoid, like elves or fairies.”
“Fairies are a cross between humans and dragonflies,” said Edmund knowingly. “And why are you always looking for stuff on the nifaran? They’re just glorified zombies, right?”
“Quiet, Ed,” said Charles, and he clamped a hand over his younger brother’s mouth. From her perch above, Viola saw the surreptitious glance he shifted toward the Prince. She suddenly wondered just how much Charlie knew. Hadn’t he eavesdropped that first night when their father had spoken with the stranger?
If the Prince noticed Charlie’s glance, he made no indication. He simply shut the book and proffered it back to the pair of brothers. “I don’t know about glorified zombies,” he said lightly. “I just think the nifaran are interesting, that’s all.”
“Glorified zombies would be interesting,” said Edmund when Charles let go of his mouth to take back the bestiary.
“No doubt,” said the Prince dryly.
“Viola, is today Thursday?” Charles suddenly demanded, and Viola knew that he just wanted to change the subject.
“Yes. Why?”
“That means it’s cleaning day. Did you explain everything to his Highness?”
“Of course,” she said stiffly. Servants came twice a month to give the Prince’s quarters a thorough cleaning. It was well-known that the Prince took refuge in his tower during those times, partly because he disliked outsiders and partly because he wanted to be out of the way while his rooms were cleaned. In various times past, Viola or Charles had hidden in the tower themselves and used a doppelganger to let the servants catch a glimpse of the Prince as he disappeared behind that narrow door and up the twisting staircase beyond.
Most of the servants were skittish of being in the Prince’s quarters, let alone of actually seeing him. The tower was strictly forbidden to them, on the Prince’s orders and for their protection, so they were told, and cleaning days usually went off without a hitch. Now that they had a living, breathing person to play the part of the Prince, however, Viola had misgivings about whether he would behave. At times he seemed to understand the gravity of his role, but she wouldn’t put it past him to stir up some mischief just for the fun of it. He did that often enough to her, after all.
As if reading her thoughts, the Prince smiled blandly and said, “I know well enough to keep out of the way this afternoon. Not a single palace servant shall see my face, I promise you.”
Viola wasn’t convinced, but Charles accepted the answer without question, just happy to have turned the conversation away from Edmund’s glorified zombies. Viola briefly deliberated whether she should corner him and demand that he tell her what he knew, but she decided against it. If Charles knew the Prince was a nifara, it certainly didn’t seem to bother him.
“Did you put your laundry in the basket like I told you to, your Highness?” Edmund asked the Prince.
“Ed, that’s your job, not his!” Charlie rebuked.
“Well, if he’s going to be wearing the clothes, I don’t see why I should have to pick them up!”
“It’s just as easy for me to toss them into a basket as on the floor,” the Prince interrupted before they could argue any further. “I’m used to doing that anyway.”
“Edmund, you have lessons this afternoon,” Viola said, “and Charles, aren’t you expected at the front gate soon?”
“Trying to get rid of us?” Charles asked wryly, but he ushered Edmund to the exit anyway.
The Prince looked up at the balcony and flashed Viola a wicked smile. “Trying to get rid of them?” he asked in full earshot of both her brothers.
“No,” said Viola. “I was just about to leave as well. Since you’ve promised to stay out of sight of the servants, I’ll take you at your word and be on my way. Have fun up in the tower.” As she spoke, she shut away her journal and gathered up her things. She descended the staircase to discover the Prince scowling at her. “It’s no use looking at me like that. I always leave on cleaning day. I don’t want to be underfoot for the servants. Just take a book with you up into the tower, and you’ll be perfectly happy. They’ll only be a few hours at most.”
His tight-lipped reaction should have raised her suspicions, but Viola was too intent upon making her exit and merely thought to be grateful that he had not insisted on arguing with her. She waved politely to the guards at the main entrance and returned to her family’s apartments on the floor below. She did feel a little guilty about leaving the Prince behind to fend for himself that afternoon. She hoped he would not be lonely, but it would have been unusual for her to remain on cleaning day, after all.
“Maybe I’ll go up the back stairs later,” she muttered as she passed the kitchen, where her mother was experimenting with a new recipe.
“What was that, dear?” Elizabeth Moreland called after her.
“Nothing, Mother,” said Viola. “If you need me, I’ll be in my room.”
Her mother hummed a response and Viola went on her way down the hall. Absently she pushed open her bedroom door, and—
“Hello.”
Viola shrieked but caught her wits the next moment. The Prince sat shamelessly on her bed, a cheerful grin on his face. “What do you think you’re doing?” Viola hissed fiercely, but before she could lunge forward to throttle him, her mother’s concerned voice floated down the hallway.
“Viola, dear, are you all right?”
“Yes,” she called back before her mother came to see what had caused such an unholy shriek. “There was a spider in my room—a big, nasty one,” she added with a fierce glare toward the Prince.
Her mother wandered into sight at the end of the hall. “Did you step on it?” she asked with anxiety. Elizabeth Moreland was terrified of spiders, and Viola knew it.
“I’m about to,” said Viola cheerlessly. “Sorry if I startled you.” Then, she shut the door and stomped her foot in anger. “What are you doing here?” she whispered crossly.
The Prince had had the wisdom to retreat to the other side of her bed. “You think I’m going to spend all afternoon up in the tower by myself?”
Viola shushed him. “Keep your voice down! Mother will have a fit if she finds me with a boy in my room!”
“Terribly sorry,” he replied, not a bit penitent. “Should I have waited for you in the hallway?”
“You shouldn’t have come at all! Just because you didn’t want to stay in the tower—!”
“I’m headed into the city,” the Prince interrupted flatly. “I thought I’d
invite you along, unless you have something more interesting on your afternoon agenda.”
She snapped her mouth shut in surprise. Then, tentatively, she asked, “Into the city?”
His golden gaze shifted uncomfortably to the wall. “I thought I should visit Cassian and Laelia, make my apologies for yesterday, that sort of thing. You don’t have to come if you don’t want to. I’m fairly sure I can find my way there and back again.”
“Did you send them word that you were coming?” Viola asked.
“No. Do you want to come with me or not?”
He was being very blunt, very straightforward—nothing like his usual self, in other words. Viola crossed to the vanity and picked up her reticule. “Let’s go, then,” she said.
She had to tell her mother that she was going out again, but Elizabeth Moreland was not nearly as protective as her husband when it came to Viola’s movements. She merely wished her a good time and told her to be back for supper. The Prince, Viola realized as they slipped down the outer staircase into the garden, had implemented a stealth spell. Viola’s footsteps alone tapped along the stones that marked the path toward the front gates.
They made their way in silence to Dr. Grayson’s house. Every so often, Viola chanced a curious glance toward the Prince, but he seemed to be caught in his own thoughts and she didn’t want to interrupt him. He had been in good enough spirits this morning as he talked with her brothers, but Viola supposed that that had only been a façade. He might pretend to be amiable, but she didn’t think he would pretend to be this pensive about anything.
Mother Grayson opened the door to them immediately, and she showed them into the front room where Laelia and Cassian were readying themselves to go out.
Cassian looked up in surprise. “Aureus!”
Laelia jumped and pointedly turned her attention away. That brief glimpse of her face had revealed pale skin and red-rimmed eyes, sure testament that she had been crying. Guilt slithered down Viola’s spine.
“I thought we’d make up for our lost outing from yesterday,” the Prince said, but he feigned no joviality. “Unless you had other plans…?”
Cassian spared a fleeting glance toward the brunette at his side. “We’d just decided to go for a walk to the park, since the weather’s so fine today. We’re more than happy to have you and Viola along.”
At these words, Laelia looked up at him in alarm. Cassian ignored her, much to Viola’s surprise.
“Then let’s be on our way,” said the Prince, and they shuffled back out into the afternoon sunshine.
A more solemn group Viola had never accompanied. They might have been going to a funeral rather than a park. Under other circumstances, she would have tried to make conversation, but she was the odd one here, the one who didn’t belong. Cassian, Laelia, and the Prince had all known each other for years, after all, so if they wanted to process in silence, silence they would have. Viola certainly wasn’t going to break it.
They arrived at the same park Laelia had brought them to two days ago, and the Prince turned to her expectantly. “Laelia, come walk with me,” he said. “I need to talk to you. Cassian, could you watch after Viola for a little while?”
“I don’t need watching after,” Viola said peevishly. “I’m not a child.”
The Prince suppressed a laugh and turned away. Laelia’s expression had become unnecessarily hopeful, and Cassian’s had shifted into a frown as he watched her skip forward.
“He’s not going to get her hopes up again, is he?” Cassian said unpleasantly. “She was up all night crying already. I thought she’d finally resigned herself to his indifference, but if he’s going to start showing her favor…”
“He only said he wanted to come apologize,” said Viola. “He was rather heartless yesterday.”
Cassian turned his piercing green eyes upon her. “Did you put him up to this?”
“No. I’m as surprised as anyone. He just announced out of the blue that he was coming and then invited me along, and since I had nothing else planned, I came. You don’t approve?”
His scowl softened, but he heaved a rueful sigh. “It’s not that. I wouldn’t say I necessarily approve of his tactics yesterday, but for the first time since she’s met him, Laelia seemed to understand that he was serious about rejecting her. If he apologizes now, I’m afraid he’ll undo all of that progress. I suppose I’m a horrible, selfish person for opposing that.”
“You’re not,” said Viola. “You want to protect her from more pain. That’s not horrible or selfish at all.”
Cassian’s eyes lingered on her, seeming amused. “Do you always look for the best in people?”
“Not always. Not in your brother, certainly.”
“Why is that? Aureus is a good person.”
“I don’t trust him. He’s too mysterious, and far too good at taking advantage of any opportunity that presents itself. Do you know what he came to Lenore to look for?” she asked on impulse. The Prince had utterly refused to disclose what detail of nifaran lore he sought, but she suddenly realized that he might have told his family.
Cassian, however, seemed loath to answer her question. “Do you know?”
“I wouldn’t have asked if I did,” said Viola irritably.
“I’m not at liberty to disclose anything he’s withheld.”
“Then you do know.”
A shadowed smile crossed his face, wistful and somehow pained. “He’ll have to tell you himself. I imagine he’s getting quite desperate to find it.”
The Prince didn’t seem any more desperate now than he had been when she first met him. Viola picked out his golden figure across the park where he stood with Laelia. She always seemed able to hone in on him wherever he was, much to her chagrin.
“You must know,” Cassian said abruptly, “that all nifaran have a tragic beginning. It’s one of the required conditions—those who have died before their time. In my case, it was a fire. I was only four or five years old, and my parents were killed in the blaze. After my revival, I wandered off, disoriented, down toward the sea—I come from a southern principality of Melanthos, you know, one of the peninsulas that extends into the Great South Sea. My parents found me there. Um, not my birth parents—”
“Your nifaran parents,” Viola finished for him. She wasn’t certain why Cassian had started into this explanation, but she would by no means discourage him.
“Yes,” he said. “They found me and took me back with them, out of Melanthos, to the village in the forest. It was a similar situation with Aureus, as I think I’ve told you, but he’s always had a tie to his life before the village, something that he can’t let go of. His search has to do with that, I guess is what I’m trying to say in a roundabout sort of manner. Perhaps I’ve already given too much away.”
“I’m still as confused as ever,” said Viola with a wry smile, “but I think I’d do best not to pry. It seems to be something very personal.”
“Very personal,” Cassian agreed gratefully.
“He mentioned that he came from Melanthos,” she continued on a slightly different vein of conversation. “And you come from there as well. Laelia too?”
He nodded. “Most everyone in the village comes from Melanthos, though we do have a few from countries to the far north. You might be the first from Lenore that I’ve ever met. My parents are from Melanthos proper, from somewhere near the capital. Laelia comes from a principality further to the east.”
“Is it large, your village?” Viola asked.
“A few hundred people. You would be welcomed there.”
“I belong here in Lenore,” she replied immediately, not because she meant to refuse his invitation, but because it was the truth. Lenore was her home. She could no more leave it than she could cut out her own heart.
Cassian took no offense. “Yes,” he said musingly, “I think you’re right. You do belong here. My poor brother—I don’t know whether to pity or envy him.”
Viola couldn’t see what one remark had to do with t
he other, and she pettishly refused to ask.
Chapter 12: Advent of a Malevolent Force
Whatever apology the Prince gave to Laelia, she seems to have accepted it with grace. I received no more than two narrow-eyed glares from her on that visit, and neither of them held the venom she had previously reserved especially for me. We visited Laelia and Cassian once more, and Laelia informed the Prince that they would be returning to the north without him. He seemed to take the decision well enough, but I noticed that he pulled Cassian aside shortly thereafter and spoke to him in a low voice. We had met at a patisserie and Laelia was diverted by the assortment of confectionaries that she had to choose from. Since I was the only person with any Lenorean money, I was standing by to pay for her choice and couldn’t overhear what the two brothers had to say to one another. She wasn’t cheap, either. That girl can eat more sweets than Charlie and Edmund combined.
We parted ways on the best terms that I could expect. Laelia still favored me with some suspicious glances, but she seemed a lot more resigned to the Prince’s indifference to her. I wonder if Cassian has swooped in to pick up the pieces of her broken heart yet. Probably not, as that would be opportunistic and he seems to be anything but.
Your Highness, if you are reading this, I like your brother very much. Also, I will strangle you if I catch you.
Two days after Laelia and Cassian made their departure, the Prince told Viola that it was time to collect magic from the well. The midsummer festival was only a week away, and since Charles was intent upon conjuring some sort of strange beasties, a good supply of the stuff would be needed for his practices, not to mention the actual event.
Accordingly, Viola retrieved two empty flasks from her father’s private study, and together she and the Prince stole away to the hedge door. Sneaking out of the Prince’s apartments had become something of a normal occurrence, she thought as they made their way through the forest. She didn’t even bother to argue with him about it anymore.
The clearing around the well had become even more vibrant. Butterflies fluttered around the flowers and birds warbled among the trees. Viola felt almost as though the place beckoned her forward. She broke into an eager trot, strangely joyous to be there.
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