“I’m sorry, Celine,” I said again. “I don’t think there’s anything we can do for you before we get back to the palace.”
She took a deep breath and nodded. She closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them and attempted to push herself to her feet.
“Whoa,” I said, but she sank back down on her own before I could intervene.
She shook her head and met my eyes. “There’s no way I’m going to be able to make it up those next stairs. You’ll have to bring my necklace down for me.”
“Of course.” I touched her hand as comfortingly as I could manage. “Don’t worry, there’s no way the Tourney could fault you for not trying.”
I hated to leave her on her own, but none of the rest of us dared risk our families by staying behind with her. “We’ll be back soon,” I promised, gesturing for the other girls to follow me as I ran for the door. I didn’t look back. I couldn’t bear to see her lying there alone in the dirt.
We ascended the next set of stairs more quickly than was probably safe and burst into the large room at the top. All eight of the others stood grouped around a large table. I counted them and then counted again.
“Is everyone all right?” I counted a third time for good measure.
Sophie waved me over. “We’re fine, although only just. Giselle was standing on the stairs when they collapsed, but Emmeline managed to catch her.”
I looked at the Eldonians, impressed. They looked as impassive as ever.
“What about you? Wait…” Sophie’s eyes roamed over us again and then flew to the door. “Where’s Celine?”
I shook my head. “She couldn’t get up here. It’s her ankle. I think it’s broken.”
A sharp hiss of indrawn breath pulled my eyes toward Millie. She was wincing. “I broke my arm once.” She rubbed at her left elbow.
I looked down at the table. Twelve necklaces—large, ornate and covered in jewels—lay scattered across the surface. They looked identical except for the color of the gems. “She’s on her own down there. Let’s hurry.” I grabbed the first chain my hand landed on and shoved it over my head. Then I grabbed a second one for Celine.
The rest of the princesses followed, looping the gold and gems around their necks. The bright jewelry looked ridiculous against our tired faces and dirty gowns. I turned back to the door.
We raced back down, eleven of us now in a long line. Celine lay where we had left her, flat on her back, her eyes closed. I feared she had fainted, but she opened her eyes at the sound of our arrival and struggled into a sitting position. One of the younger twins whimpered at the sight of her.
“The main staircase collapsed,” said Millie. “We’ll need to use the servants’ stairs.”
“We came up that way,” said Blanche. “They were fine when we left them.”
“Millie, Lilac, you take the others and get out of here as fast as you can,” I said. “Sophie and I will help Celine.”
“Lilac and Hazel can lead the others. I’m staying to help you.” Millie met my gaze defiantly.
I considered arguing, but I didn’t have the energy—and we might actually need the help. “Fine. But let’s get moving.”
Lilac paused for a moment, as if torn, so I gave her my best glare. She grimaced, and then rushed down the corridor calling for the others to follow her. Hazel brought up the rear, glancing back at us with concern.
I took a deep breath before kneeling beside Celine. “This isn’t going to be pleasant,” I warned her.
She forced a small smile. “Has anything about this place been pleasant yet?” No one asked her whether she meant the Tourney or Marin itself.
Sophie knelt on her other side, and we positioned ourselves under each of her arms. Directing a steady string of projections toward each other, we managed to time our movements, rising smoothly to our feet and bringing Celine up with us. She swayed, her damaged leg held up off the ground, and her face full of strain.
“Good job. That’s the way.” I murmured a stream of quiet encouragement to her, paying no attention to the particular words. Millie, who had taken the extra necklace off me when I crouched down, thrust it over Celine’s head.
Slowly we started toward the stairway. I hadn’t heard any loud crashes yet, so I was hoping to find it still intact. When we reached the top, Millie darted around us, offering to go in front. I understood her unspoken intent. She would test the stairs and try to catch Celine if any of us tripped.
It seemed to take an interminable time to descend all four flights, Celine’s hops becoming smaller and more exhausted as time went on. She didn’t complain, or scream, but I could read the pain on her face and hear it in her frequent gasps and hisses.
When we reached the bottom, I nearly collapsed in relief. Until I saw the piles of gravel still filling the entrance hall. I wanted to scream. They had been hard enough to scale without an injured princess in tow.
I looked over at Sophie. She looked just as defeated as I felt. But what choice did we have? Slowly we began moving again. I could see no sign of the others, and I hoped they had long since made it safely out of the castle. No new danger had appeared since we had taken the necklaces, and I took that as a good sign.
Within seconds it became clear that Celine wasn’t going to be able to hop her way up a giant mound of gravel, and we weren’t going to be able to carry her on the unstable surface. We stopped, lowering her gently so she could sit. She stretched out her injured leg, but pulled the other knee up and buried her face in it.
There’s only one way I can think of to do this, projected Sophie. I didn’t need to see her expression to know how unhappy she was about it.
I sighed. You’re right. It’s the only way.
I knelt beside Celine. “We’re going to have to drag you, Celine. If you lie back against the hill, we’ll pull you along by your arms. Try to keep your ankle up, if you can.” I was afraid she wouldn’t have the strength to do it, but I hated to think what state her ankle would be in by the end of the process if she couldn’t.
We started up the first hill. The three of us took turns, two at a time, pulling one of her hands each and advancing slowly backwards up the slope. Celine fainted before we made it off the first mound, and we all felt nothing but relief.
We could move slightly faster when we didn’t have to worry about causing her more pain, but I still worried about her ankle. We turned Millie’s short cloak into a small cushion to place under Celine’s injured foot, but it didn’t seem like nearly enough.
By the time we reached the great doors at the entrance to the palace, I could barely stand, every part of me trembling from exhaustion. Lilac, Hazel and Blanche all rushed forward as soon as we appeared and helped us carry Celine a few steps away from the building. I didn’t look back. I had no wish to see the mirror palace ever again.
We rested briefly, all of us too shocked and spent for talking. Sophie eventually stirred, looking toward the lake. “The boats are back.”
“We need to try to wake Celine,” I said. “We won’t be able to carry her the whole way.”
“I’m awake,” said a shaky voice, the words slightly slurred. I wanted to ask if she was all right, but I didn’t really want to hear the answer, so I remained silent.
Once again Sophie and I crouched down on either side of her. This time we wobbled as we rose to full height, our fatigue hampering our movements.
Millie had shepherded the other girls ahead of us and most of the boats were full by the time we arrived at the edge of the lake. As carefully as we could, the three of us lifted Celine into a coracle, our feet splashing in the eerily warm water.
Once Celine had been safely placed inside, I collapsed over the edge of the closest boat. I lay there, not bothering to sit up, just watching the murky darkness overhead as I floated along. Perhaps I would just lie here forever.
All too soon, I felt the bump as I hit the other side. Forcing myself up, I saw with relief that Lilac and Blanche had enlisted Emmeline’s help and already lifted
Celine from her boat. Sophie and I stepped forward and took up our places under each of her arms, and the whole group started back down the path.
Somewhere in the golden grove, Celine slipped into a partial swoon. She remained on her feet but only just. We pushed on.
All the older girls were helping younger ones now. Lilac and Hazel flanked their younger sister, Marigold, who appeared to be crying. I hoped she didn’t feel guilty for what had happened. It wasn’t her fault.
I limped along in my threadbare dancing slippers, my shoulders aching from Celine’s nearly dead weight. I kept mindlessly counting the girls in front of us, making sure, over and over, that we hadn’t left anyone behind.
The ladder appeared at the end of the path, at last, and Millie began to help the youngest girls to climb. Pearl and Opal drooped from fatigue, their feet slipping on the rungs. Lilac stepped forward to help them, leaving Hazel to support Marigold on her own.
Finally, they all made it up, and Millie returned to help us with Celine. I eyed the ladder with profound misgiving. How in the kingdoms were we going to get her up those rungs?
“Lily?” Sophie’s voice interrupted my musings.
I turned my head slowly to look at her. Perhaps she had an idea.
She didn’t bother to speak again, merely pointed wordlessly past my head. I turned back around and saw that the last tree, the one closest to the ladder, had a branch that stretched out toward us like a reaching hand. And on the end of the branch, tucked into a small cleft in the wood, was a folded piece of parchment.
I leaned over, nearly unbalancing us all and eliciting a moan from Celine, and grabbed it. Opening it, I scanned the contents. A neat table had been drawn up in glistening black ink. Sophie, Millie and I were listed first, with equal points. All three Marinese princesses were close behind. Celine’s name came last.
“Our scores,” I said shortly.
Millie shook her head in disbelief. “I’d sort of forgotten it was a contest.”
I sighed. “Let’s think about that after we get Celine up the ladder.”
“I can do it,” Celine said between panting breaths. She seemed to have come out of her half-swoon.
“One way or another, you’ll have to, I’m afraid.”
We half carried her to the ladder and placed her hands on the rungs. “We’ll come up behind you.”
The ascent was slow and far from graceful, but somehow we all ended up once again in the small room at the top of the ladder. Millie had gone in front again, and pulled Celine up the last steps.
As soon as I stepped back, the trapdoor swung closed, disappearing into the floor. I stared down at it. Even knowing exactly where it was, I could see no sign of it. I looked around and noted that our necklaces had disappeared, along with the dirt and dust and gravel that had clung to our dresses. In fact, our clothes had returned to their original state. I glanced over at Celine but, from the grimace of pain on her face, the same restoration hadn’t happened for her leg. Apparently our bodies could be harmed down there, even if nothing else could.
Lilac thrust the door of the room open, and princesses poured out.
A small group awaited us in the now empty ballroom. All traces of the party from earlier in the night had disappeared, efficiently removed by the servants, I presumed. The first hint of dawn shone through the long windows, but the waiting crowd still carried lanterns and candles. Had they stayed up for us all night, or had they risen early?
Lilac had been first through the door, and her calls for a doctor had already been taken up by other voices. When Sophie, Celine, and I finally emerged, the Duchess of Sessily, the head of Celine’s delegation, rushed to our side, her face pale.
“Where has she been hurt?” she asked, gesturing for us to lay Celine down.
We did so gladly. Sophie sat beside her, holding her hand and talking to the duchess, but I stepped away, ceding my place to the doctors and nurses who poured into the ballroom.
I stared down at the parchment still clutched in my fingers, and then fisted my hand, scrunching the elegant paper. Looking up, my eyes fell on Prince Jonathan and sudden rage filled me with a burst of energy.
I strode over to confront him, not even noticing his far superior height. In my anger, I felt six feet tall. “You!” I poked my finger into his chest. “I am done with games. I want the truth, right now!”
“Truth?” He looked completely bewildered by my unexpected attack. He focused down on my face, and his eyes turned pleading. “We’ve told you nothing but the truth. I swear I would not lie to you.”
“Well, then. Tell me this truth. How many princesses have died competing in this Tourney of yours?”
“Died?” He turned pale and glanced over my shoulder at Celine. “What are you talking about? No one has ever died!”
I deflated a little. He seemed genuinely shocked by my question. His strong hands reached out to grip my arms, and I could feel him shaking, the tremors passing through to me from the contact.
His eyes looked desperate as they bore into mine. “Lily! Are you all right? What happened to you down there?”
I opened my mouth to tell him exactly what had happened, still too angry to consider the rules. But nothing came out. I tried again. Still nothing.
Sophie! Try to tell the duchess what happened.
But Lily, the rules!
I don’t care. Just try.
A moment of silence.
Oh.
Yes.
Another moment of silence. You really shouldn’t have tried, you know. Think of our family.
I didn’t reply, hit by a sudden wave of guilt. I couldn’t let myself get out of control like that. Now, more than ever. Now that I had seen for myself just how deadly serious this competition truly was.
I pulled myself out of Jon’s grip. “I’m sorry,” I said quietly. “I’m not allowed to say.”
He stepped forward and pulled me into his arms. For a moment I resisted, and then I melted against him—glad, just briefly, to rely on someone else’s strength.
“No, Lily,” he said, his voice thick. “I’m the one who’s sorry.”
Chapter 9
I think I might have actually drifted off for a moment against the safety of Jon’s chest, because I wasn’t sure how much time had passed when Sophie called to me. I started and pulled back, too tired to even flush at the way I had been clinging to him.
Sophie’s expression told me that there would be questions later. But she was far too tired to ask them now. With Celine in the care of the duchess, I handed the parchment of scores to Jon’s father, not bothering to flatten it out, and allowed our own delegation head, Helena, to guide us to our rooms. The baroness’ eyes expressed her sympathy, but thankfully she refrained from questions. Whether she knew we couldn’t answer them, or she just recognized our fatigue, I didn’t know. I appreciated it either way.
She had requested a shared guest suite for us, and I imagined the palace staff had been happy to oblige. Marin already seemed full of visitors, and accommodating so many unexpected and high-ranked newcomers with no notice couldn’t have been easy.
I felt too tired to even project to Sophie, but her presence comforted me nonetheless. We helped each other unlace our dresses, hurrying into the nightgowns that someone had lain out for us. Collapsing into my bed, I passed out within seconds.
Awareness returned slowly, my head groggy and my body aching. It took me several long moments to remember why. When the memories finally hit, I rolled onto my back and stared up at the canopy overhead. Far too many unlikely things had happened to be quickly or easily understood. I reached out with my mind, testing if Sophie was awake.
Good morning, she projected back.
Oh, good, you’re awake. Did all that really happen?
I think so. I heard her yawn and move beneath her blankets, as if stretching. What time is it?
I rolled over onto my side, facing toward her bed, which lay between me and the window. No idea. Those are effective curtains.
The heavy velvet reached all the way to the floor, blocking all light from entering the room. Either that, or we slept the entire day and it’s already night again.
I hope not! I want to see the sun.
Feel free to get up and open the curtains, then.
Ha, you wish! Why don’t you get up?
I flopped over onto my back again and resumed staring at the canopy. Not a chance. I think I may never move again.
Sophie sighed. Except that we have to go back there again in three days.
I shuddered.
I’ve been lying here calculating it, she continued.
How depressing.
She ignored me. The duke said the Tourney ends on the first day of summer. And the rules said we have to be in that room every three days. So that means we have fifteen more events.
Did I mention how depressing you’re being? We were both silent for a moment. My feet hurt.
My everything hurts.
We both broke out into sudden laughter. When the giggles finally subsided, I wiped the tears from my eyes. “I think we needed that.” I forced myself to sit up. “What is the time?”
“Mid-afternoon,” said Helena, gliding into the room. “I thought I might find you awake at last.”
She had brought two maids with her, each carrying a heavily-laden tray of food. I leaped out of bed, suddenly discovering motivation to move, and devoured it gratefully. I could barely remember when I had last eaten.
She sat with us while we ate, updating us on Celine’s condition—her ankle had been set, and the doctors had given her medicine to ensure she slept all day—and telling us that we had the day off and were under strict orders to do nothing but rest.
“There will be time enough for official meetings and receptions tomorrow, when you’ve had another good night’s sleep. And the day after. And then that night, there will be another ball as well.”
“Another one already?”
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