I hung my head because he was right. I had been so caught up in my own concerns and so sure that I was the only one looking for answers that I had not bothered to think past what I wanted. Those words struck me dumb, but what followed was worse.
“And as if that was not bad enough, you tell me you cajoled your Companions into an unauthorized, unsupervised mission to help Serulan the dragon! Without bothering to tell anyone! And to top it all off, you kept it all a secret, and I do not doubt that you did so because you already knew that I wouldn’t be treating you as a hero but as a foolish, willful little child.” I could feel his glare. “Didn’t you?”
I kept my head bowed.
“I am confiscating your horses and leaving word that you and your Companions are not to be permitted to ride, even in training, for at least a year, so you will not be able to indulge in any more escapades. If we go on the Royal Progress, and you will, of course, need to go with us, you will ride ponies. The horses will be boarded at the royal stud farm until that time. And for a year, you and your Companions are not to leave the palace grounds except to go to and from Lady Brianna’s establishment, and then only in the company of Sir Delacar. When you go alone, Lady Miriam, it will be on foot, and you will be escorted by one of the guards. Your Companions are relieved from their shifts guarding Aurora; we have enough of the Royal Guard who have been given the ability to see magic that we will not need their services, and I do not think that they are worthy of being trusted with that duty anymore. You are to be together when training, and only when training. Perhaps that will curb some of these wild schemes that you have been concocting together.”
Behind me, my friends gasped. My heart dropped, and I felt dizzy. This was wrong! This was a terrible decision! Couldn’t he see that?
But I didn’t dare argue with him. It was clear that he was speaking in his capacity as the King, and to disobey him was treason.
He looked over my head at my friends. “Your parents will be informed of what happened tonight. You may continue to train at your parents’ discretion, but if they choose to withdraw you from the Companions, I will honor that decision. There will be no more ‘adventures.’ No unauthorized expeditions. Lady Miriam, I was wrong in encouraging you to be like your father, because it seems that you are prey to the same impulsive behavior that got him killed.”
That hit me like a physical blow, and I looked up at him incredulously.
He frowned. “Yes. Impulsive, unthinking behavior drove him to attempt to rescue a single knight at the expense of leaving the men he was supposed to be commanding. And it got him and that knight killed. His life was not his to throw away like that; it belonged to me, and to the kingdom. And your life is not yours to squander, either. It belongs to me, your mother, and Aurora, whom you vowed to protect. You violated that oath just as you violated our trust. And now you will be treated in accordance with your immature behavior. You will be watched and weighed to see if you are worthy of being trusted again. And that will probably take years, given what you have done in mere weeks to destroy my trust.”
I bowed and my eyes burned with tears. “Yes, Majesty,” I choked out.
We backed out of the room, turning only when we reached the door. The door closed behind us and I sagged against it, the tears that had threatened to fall now burning down my face in earnest.
“He can’t do that!” Rob exclaimed.
“Oh, yes, he can,” Giles said unhappily. “He’s the King. To disobey him is treason. We don’t have a choice.”
I looked up at their miserable faces. “I’m sorry I got you to agree to come with me,” I said through my tears. “If you hadn’t, only I would be in trouble now.”
“And you would probably be hurt or worse,” argued Nat. “No, Miri, it’s not your fault, and he might be the King, but he’s wrong and you were right.”
“And that doesn’t matter when he’s made up his mind.” My throat closed up and I couldn’t even talk. I just shook my head as the rest stood there helplessly. Finally, one of the guards we had been ignoring coughed pointedly and jerked his head toward the way out. Dragging our feet, we took the hint and went our separate ways, with only Anna and Elle staying with me.
And to cap it all off, Belinda was waiting for me with a bath full of cold water—not in the privacy of my room, either, but at the beginning of the Royal Suite, right at the stairs. I took off my ruined clothing and cast it aside; I doubted that it could be salvaged. I laid my sword down.
And she didn’t let me bathe myself. She made me stand in the tub and scrubbed me from my hair to my soles so hard that I started to cry more without saying a single solitary word. When she was satisfied I was clean, Belinda pulled me out of the tub, toweled me off roughly, handed me my sword and a nightshift, and finally spoke.
“Go to your room.”
I went.
Once there, I had the horrible feeling that Papa might send someone to take my sword once I left the room. So I opened the chest where I normally kept it, formed the chain mail to make it look as if it were still there, closed the chest, and hid the sword behind a tapestry until I could find a better place to put it. I thought for a moment that the sword pulsed with light in protest as I let the tapestry fall flat, but that might just have been because I was crying. I curled up on my bed and wept. I didn’t know what Anna and Elle were doing; what I did know was that I was the most miserable of all of us. They weren’t the ones to blame for it. I was, and everyone in the Court would know it by morning.
Mixed with my misery was utter despair. How could I protect Aurora when no one trusted me now?
By the time Anna and Elle arrived, presumably after a confrontation with their parents, I had wept myself into a state of complete exhaustion. My throat was raw, my eyes were swollen, my cheeks felt scorched, my stomach was in knots, and my head throbbed.
I looked up. They both had that slightly raw look about them that told me that someone—probably their mothers—had ordered them scrubbed until the first layer of skin came off along with the Goblin fruit juice, just as Belinda had done to me.
“We can stay Companions and be your ladies,” Anna said for both of them. “But—well, it’s only because our mothers think that no one would have us as maids of honor now, least of all the Queen.”
“I did this to you—” I choked on the words.
“We all did it, Miri,” Elle said, then she sighed and handed me a pot of salve. “You should use this on your skin. You look like you’ve been peeled.”
They went off to bed, and I used the salve, which did help a little but eventually only made things worse because now I could concentrate on my own misdeeds. I started crying again and cried myself into an uneasy, nightmare-filled sleep.
In the morning, I woke at dawn, now in the state of grief where I was indifferent to everything. I couldn’t eat, didn’t want food, so I didn’t go down to breakfast. And I didn’t care what Mama and Papa thought about that or what the Court would think or say. I knew Elle and Anna had gone down only because at some point after breakfast they peeked timidly into my room, Elle with a cup and a pitcher, Anna with a platter.
“Miri, you need to eat,” Anna said.
“Can’t,” I croaked, somehow managing to erupt in a fresh spate of tears.
“Have something to drink at least,” Elle urged as they both came into the room. Anna put the platter down on the foot of the bed, and Elle poured a cup of wine and held it out to me with a hopeful look and a little gesture of invitation.
I didn’t want that, either, but my mouth was as dry as stones in the desert, and my throat hurt from crying. So I accepted it even though my eyes were so swollen that I could scarcely see the cup, and I managed to get the contents down in sips.
Encouraged, they moved the platter over and sat down on the foot of my bed. “Aurora will be fine,” said Elle. “All the guards can see magic, and the King seems to have doubled up the watch on her. I’m sure the Dark Fae won’t try anything again. And we’ll get back the
King’s trust sooner than you think.”
I wanted to believe that. I really did. But the sheer dread that avalanched over me when I thought of Aurora convinced me that Elle was wrong. I just shook my head, refusing to be comforted by anything so unlikely. In fact, it was far more likely that the Dark Fae would assume that we would assume exactly that—and think that Aurora would be safe for years and drop our guard—and they would strike again.
Or worst of all, and even more likely, they had a spy or spies in the Court. They would know that Papa had hobbled the Companions and forbidden us to do anything that wasn’t authorized by himself or Sir Delacar or Lady Brianna. They would know that there was one less barrier between themselves and Aurora. And one less barrier might be all they needed.
At the thought of that, I broke into hoarse sobs and threw myself down on the bed to hide my head in my arms and weep inconsolably.
At some point, my friends figured out that there was nothing they could say or do to make me feel any better. Anna moved the platter to my little desk, and Elle put the pitcher and cup down beside it. And I cried until I couldn’t move, and at some point, I fell asleep again from sheer emotional and physical exhaustion. By the sun, it was about noon when I woke up, but I had no more appetite for luncheon than I’d had for breakfast.
I got dressed and splashed some water on my raw face. Just in case, I took the sword from its hiding place, strapped it on over my chemise but under my overdress, and left the room. I didn’t take the public ways, either; I slipped silently down the servants’ stair to the garden and my oak.
As promised, there was a guard waiting for me at the oak. I didn’t say a word to him as he followed me through the door. Then I ran all the way to Brianna’s cottage, leaving him to follow as best he could, burdened as he was with armor and weapons.
Brianna was waiting out in front, looking anxiously up the road for me. She was back early. I flung myself into her arms, and I couldn’t help it, I broke out into hysterics again.
She just held me and stroked my hair, and when some of the crying eased up, she led me into the cottage, which now looked no bigger on the inside than it did on the outside and held pretty much what you would expect a neat little cottage to hold. But I wasn’t paying any attention to all that, only to the settle she led me to, where we both sat down and I buried my face in my hands and sobbed.
I didn’t weep for as long this time, but when I finally got myself under control, I felt utterly drained and hopeless. Brianna gave me a cloth that was cold and damp and somehow managed to ease my sore nose and eyes. But it didn’t help my depressed spirits and hopelessness.
“Lobo and Viridity told me about the Goblin Market,” she said. “And, obviously, you are in great trouble with your father now. Tell me the rest.”
So I did, pausing now and again when my voice broke in a sob.
“The King persists in not understanding how constrained we are against the Dark Fae,” she said somberly. “I cannot protect Aurora as he demands I do.”
That only sank my spirits further.
“Did he take your sword?” she finally asked.
“No,” I said, and pulled up my overdress to show her. “I was afraid he was going to so I hid it last night and took it with me this morning.”
She nodded with approval. “I think that he probably will not ask you for it. After all, possessing it gives you no special powers that would enable you to disobey him. But to make certain, avoid him as much as you can.”
I sighed, because that didn’t make me feel one bit better. Her face went very still and closed for a long while; I hoped that she was thinking, because I couldn’t. My mind was still turning in endless dizzy circles as I thought about how Aurora was in danger more than ever before and that there was nothing I could do about it.
Finally, there was only one thing I could think of. “Is there any way you can teach me a spell or something that can get me to Aurora immediately if she’s in danger? I mean, I know you can, right? Can I?”
Brianna’s face went very still for a moment. “It is true that I can, indeed, come to a set place where I have a link in the blink of an eye. It is also true that I can make an amulet for you that will do just that. It is how I appeared at the top of the tower when your young ancestor was in danger. But I am a Fae in the fullness of my power, and I was going into a situation where I knew that all I needed to do was snatch him and fly away. If you use such an amulet, you will have no notion of what you are about to step into.”
“It’s my duty and my responsibility,” I said, remembering Papa’s words of last night. “If Aurora is in danger, I have to go to her.”
“Very well. Can you get your hands on a lock of Aurora’s hair?” Brianna asked.
“I already have one,” I replied, a bit surprised, and pulled out the silver locket where I kept a lock of Mama’s hair, a lock of Aurora’s, and a lock of my father’s. Each one was tied tightly with a length of silk thread. I pulled out my baby sister’s and handed it to Brianna.
“Clarion should probably hear the whole story as well,” Brianna said, taking it from me. “Go outside and call for him. I have some things to do with this, and it is better if I work alone on it—and then we’ll use your human magic to finish the job. Don’t forget, Miri, the King can take your armor, your sword, and your title, but he cannot take your magic. And that is what we will concentrate on.”
From anyone else, those words would have been treasonous. But although Brianna and the other Fae lived in Tirendell, they were not Papa’s subjects, and he had no right to rule them nor any way to control them.
My spirits rose—not a lot but at least I wasn’t so sunk in despair that I couldn’t even move. I went out the cottage door and called for the stag, ignoring the stolid presence of the guard at the door. Clarion came bounding toward me out of the forest after what seemed like an age. And, of course, he took one look at me and demanded to know what the matter was, and I had to explain it all to him. At least I managed not to cry so much this time.
Clarion looked at me gravely. “It is not the end of the world, Miri,” he said as the guard tried to pretend that he wasn’t in the presence of one of the King beasts of the forest and stared straight ahead. “I know that it feels as if it is, but it is not.”
But before I could reply, there was a buffeting of wind from overhead, which now was quite familiar, and down through the trees came Serulan. The guard’s eyes nearly popped out of his head, and when Brianna emerged from her cottage in all her Fae glory, I thought he might faint.
Serulan walked up to the front gate and dropped his head down to our level. “I heard what happened, Lady Miriam,” he said, sounding as if he felt this too were his fault. “I am so very sorry to have gotten you into trouble. You probably wouldn’t have gotten into nearly so much trouble if you hadn’t come to help me when Viridity asked you to.”
Well, this only made things worse as far as I was concerned. I really had to work not to cry, because I knew if I began to cry, Serulan would cry, and we’d both reinforce each other and probably not recover for hours. “It’s all right,” I lied. Then I added something that was true. “If it hadn’t been helping you and then going to the Goblin Market, it would have been something else. And you did rescue us at the market. The debacle at the Goblin Market was all my fault. I didn’t think it through. Papa would never have found out about how we helped you if I hadn’t made up my mind to go there last night.”
“Yes, but…” Serulan swallowed audibly. Very audibly, given how large he was. “Please give Lady Miriam what I brought this morning, Lady Brianna.”
Brianna picked up something at her feet and handed it to me.
It was a small but beautifully carved statue of a woman in full armor in an antique style that was about as tall as my forearm was long. I couldn’t identify the stone; it was a little like moonstone but not as transparent, and there was a subtle shifting of light under the surface as I moved it.
Before I could ask, Ser
ulan said, “It is your great-great-great-great-grandmother, the one who first carried your sword. I had it commissioned when I was a younger dragon. I thought you should have it.”
Startled, I searched what I could see of the face beneath the helmet visor though I was not sure what I was looking for. Some resemblance to me, maybe? I didn’t see any, but I was looking at the face of a woman at least twice my age and with a hundred times my experience. It was a strong face, with the expression of someone inclined to take neither nonsense nor prisoners. It was not the kind of gift I wanted at the moment, since it just reminded me of how much I had managed to mess up not only my life but the lives of my friends.
But I’d spent the last two years learning how to counterfeit emotions I didn’t feel—you learn that sort of thing very quickly at Court if you want to maintain harmony. So I thanked Serulan by mustering up every bit of gratitude that I had, praising him for being so thoughtful. Which, as it turned out, was more than enough to make him flush under his scales and mutter about how it was nothing compared with what I had done for him. Eventually, he trotted off down the road to the place where the tree canopy had a break in it that he could fly up through, and I looked at Brianna with the statue in my hands, unsure what to do next.
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