Chapter Sixteen
“ G ryphon, I can’t leave. This whole evening is for me. All of these people are here to see me, after all this time I’ve been gone. I need to be here for them, do as I’m expected. And I’m expected to dance with and entertain everyone here. Not go on an adventure to a late night party with you.” I respond in an almost shrill, definitely exasperated tone while swinging my arms around like I’ve lost all control. I steal a glance toward Father, who’s celebrating tonight and is too busy in his cups for once to pay me any mind at the moment.
Gryphon looks back at me, nonplussed. “Well? Have you danced?” He tilts his head in question.
“Yes…” My exasperation mounting even further.
“And have you spoken to guests?” His voice remains level as his eyebrows raise.
“Of course, but…”
“Roe, now is the perfect time. The night is young. You’ve done all that’s expected of you and the king and queen are otherwise engaged. And Sturdevant has yet to arrive.” His voice trails off as I follow his gaze. The king and queen are indeed otherwise engaged. Both with large wine goblets loosely swirling around in their hands and both in conversation with a visiting high lord or lady. “I told Baylor we’d meet him at the Moon Festival,” he presses. “We have only heard stories of such a night!”
“You told Baylor what!” I throw him a scathing look. “Wait, who’s Baylor?” But just as I ask, I wonder why tonight of all nights, after all these years, the villagers are actually celebrating the Moon Festival. The idea of being able to experience such a celebration thrills me more than I thought it would.
“You remember Baylor, the stable master?” He shrugs off my question as if he’s common knowledge. “It’s perfect, really. The entire court is busy here. Extra guards have all been called to the castle rather than enjoying themselves in the tavern. Everyone is here, Roe. So if we want to take a chance, now's the time. Let’s be twenty-two again! Tonight, our only limitations are the ones we set upon ourselves. When else will we ever have this opportunity?” He’s positively humming with hope at this point. If I don’t cave, he might explode with all of this vibrating energy.
“Okay, let’s go. I’ll meet you in the tunnels. I’ll have to change out of this gown into something less noticeable.”
The tunnels? Stars, I haven’t been to those since we were, well, way over ten years ago, anyway.
The tunnels are the one place Gryphon and I would go to escape from court life and the pressing matters of turning from adolescents into adults too soon. I laugh a little to myself thinking we’re returning to the same place, only this time desperately trying to escape adulthood. “This is ridiculous,” I say under my breath. “Should I find Licia?”
“That we’re grown adults who still have to sneak around like teenagers? Or that I’ve actually convinced you to go?” He laughs and then turns without waiting for a response, quickly weaving through the crowd and out of the ballroom. “And she’ll find us.” He waves a farewell over his shoulder, dancing with anyone along his path as he leaves the room.
I take in the room one more time while I let the current of dancers carry me toward the door. The dancing is in full swing and the band of instruments continues to progress into more lively songs. Offhandedly, my thoughts drift to Thaddeus. I suppose this wouldn’t be the type of event he plays at but I do a quick sweep of the room to ensure I haven’t missed him. Instead, I spot Licia spinning in quick circles and laughing without abandon with one twin from Greymoria—the realm to the south of Merula—across the Caldertasi Sea. Both their skirts twirl in frilly petals of purple and gold. I can’t tell which twin, though. Unlike Licia and me, they look exactly alike and even dress in matching gowns of lilac with shimmering pink cut outs.
While passing the refreshments table, I realize I’ll be no good to anyone at the Moon Festival unless I grab a quick bite. Gryphon can wait just a moment longer.
I move with purposeful strides toward the pies and bite-sized cakes along the far end of the table. The mountains of mini chocolate cakes drizzled carefully with sweet caramel sauce draw me in closer.
As I reach for one of the cakes dusted with salt, my hand brushes someone else’s, reaching toward a pumpkin cake topped high with whipped cream.
“I wouldn’t waste time on those,” I say without looking up and stuffing the small cake into my mouth. Chocolate clearly being the superior choice.
“And why’s that?” I’m caught off guard by a familiar voice that sounds like dark honey folding over itself. I attempt to compose myself quickly before looking up, patting my lips to make sure there’s no crumbs. Some good that does me because as I look up, I melt all over again. My eyes trail up the broad, muscular chest the honeyed voice came from. His dark brown hair is coiled in the same thick twists and held back with a tight band. His brown skin deepens with the flickers of candlelight surrounding us. Sharp, high cheekbones frame his vibrant pale green eyes, which meet mine and darken when he smirks as if he can feel how his voice alone has unraveled me.
I drink in the bard, Thaddeus, and inhale sharply as I take in his proximity. Ts so different from all the other people here. My cheeks heat with the memory of our last meeting. A man of few words, but many talents. Exactly what I need right now. Danger and adventure swirl around him as he waits for me to speak. A small part of my mind notes to tell Licia later that yes, the rumors about the bard are true, all of them.
I swallow, trying to find my voice again and manage to croak out around a mouthful of sweetness. “I’d suggest the chocolate cakes, Thaddeus, if that’s your idea of a treat.” His name on my lips sounds dangerous spoken aloud.
“Is chocolate caramel your idea of a treat, Princess?” His eyes briefly drop to my lips, trailing down to my neck, and back up as his large hand switches direction and grabs a tiny chocolate cake instead. His fingers gently brush against my arm and a delicious chill swims through me.
I stare at him awkwardly with another bite-sized dessert halfway to my mouth. He pops his cake into his mouth without a second thought. “Tastes like a bite of the heavens.” With the way he looks at me while he says this, then licks his fingers, warmth blossoms below my belly and my toes curl in my shoes and I know he’s not just talking about the cakes anymore.
I move to take a step back, but he bows and motions as if he’d like the next dance. I know I shouldn’t, for so many reasons, one of which will kill me if I keep him waiting too long. But the playful look in Thaddeus’ eyes draws me back in and I discard the uneaten cake on the table and take his hand.
He quickly pulls me close and whisks me back toward the dance floor. My eyes close and I can’t help but inhale the fresh, snowy scent that rolls off him. His steps are sure and fluid. I feel light in his arms as if we’re floating on air rather than across this tiled ballroom floor. I’ve danced with others this evening, but this is the first time I feel completely weightless amidst the court and all its guests.
“I’m surprised you get an evening off.” He’s dressed as if he’s a duke this evening, trading his more basic black on black for trousers and a waistcoat tailored just for him and trimmed in silver swirls.
“I have many jobs here at the castle.” I look back up at him and he smiles knowingly. His hand rests on the small of my back and trails lower, dancing across my skin. The same half smile that’s found its way into my thoughts at all hours of the day lights his face. I can’t help but smile back. “Princess, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re enjoying yourself.”
He plucks the thoughts right from my mind. “It’s turned into quite the party, hasn't it?” I answer quickly, still watching his face, although there are no clues written there. He’s so beautiful; he looks like he could be carved from dark stone. Perhaps one of the statues of the old gods out in the gardens. A small piece left of the royal Fae from years before.
We continue to float effortlessly around the room without comment. I can’t help but notice no one is watching us. It’s as if there’s a curtain surrounding us, a veil hiding us from the rest of the room. I look back and forth between his eyes and his chest in front of me, not sure how I can feel so comfortable yet unsure of myself at the same time. He feels so familiar; his closeness reassuring. The song ends once again, I bow to the bard, and he bows lower to me. His eyes linger on mine, then once again slowly drift down my neckline and back up.
His implication is clear, emboldening me to say my next words. “I look forward to our next meeting, Thaddeus.”
“It may be sooner than you think, Princess.” He turns and I can’t help but note the way his broad shoulders flex through his fitted waistcoat before he’s swallowed by the crowd.
Gryphon! Oh, stars! Gryphon! He’s going to be so mad. With Gryphon in mind, I turn and go, weaving through the crowd of dancers and revelers as quickly as possible without drawing attention to myself.
The moment I pass through the oversized doors, I fill my lungs with fresh air. While dancing with Thaddeus, I forgot how stuffy the great hall is. The music fades as I walk down the hall until all I can hear is the quiet click of my silk slippers against the tiled hallway.
The grand hallway that connects the ballroom to the front entrance is a beautiful mosaic of blues and greens swirling together. The patterns and colors are soothing against all the flaming yellows my father has draped throughout the castle. I’ve heard discussions of renovating the entire hallway and ballroom; however, castle decor is low on his list of priorities. And for this one small thing, I’m grateful he’s busy doing other things. These floors, just like the statues in the garden, are small reminders of the Fae who once walked these corridors. Growing up, I often imagined their tall, lithe forms gliding down these halls or dancing through the gardens. These floors, and the statues are some of the very few things left of the entire powerful race. That my father, the king, took down such a grand people both confuses me and makes me deeply sad .
As I wind my way back up the eastern tower, I think back on the little I know of the Fae race. Until very recently, I was taught they were a vicious people and my father had to cross the seas of Caldertasi into these lands where he valiantly defended the other races from the wrath of the Fae. I’d also been taught that the Fae fell quickly to my father—despite their superhuman strength and centuries old power—because my father had studied them carefully for years, and he and his council devised a lethal plan to quickly conquer them, saving not only the humans, but all the races from the Fae.
I had also believed that since my father has risen to power, our kingdom remains peaceful and all the other races live peacefully somewhere within the realm. Although, in all of my thirty-five years, I’ve only come in contact with humans within the castle walls. It sickens me I have not questioned any of this until now.
The vine-like carvings twist under my fingers as I climb the winding staircase up to my tower. The multi-colored tiles accompany my climb. The small pieces look like sea glass fitted together in the most careful fashion. I look at the staircase and wonder what else a race like that accomplished in other areas of life if they’ve taken such pains to create such beautiful things out of something as mundane as a staircase.
I reach my chambers and twist and yank until my gown pulls over my head and I can breathe again. The fine cloth falls in a heap on the ground as I search for something more fitting for a village celebration. Of course, I’ve no idea what that might be as we’ve never seen a village celebration in all my time. I settle on a gray tunic with small silver stitching. My leggings are a deep, autumnal plum in recognition of the full moon festivities. I pull on my comfortable boots and lace them all the way up my calves .
Quickly moving toward the door, I pull pins and pearls out of my hair as I go. I shake my hair out and curls fall heavily around my face. No time to waste glancing in a mirror as I know Gryphon will scold me no matter how quickly I move.
I fly down the dark passageways on wings of freedom. My fingers graze the cool stone along the walls as I get closer to where Gryphon must be waiting. His silhouette stands in the small open space where we used to always meet. The high stone arches always made us think it was once used as a place of worship. Last time we were here though, it was only used by us as a place to meet and store important items we wouldn’t want others to find.
I laugh with abandon and jump into his waiting arms. He swings me around in circles in our dark, secret place. In this moment, ten years suddenly fade away and all my most recent troubles dissolve into the darkness surrounding our torch light.
Our banter carries us the last long distance under the castle before we stop at a worn wooden door. The invigorating night air waiting for us on the other side seeps through as we throw our weight against the old door and it slowly creaks open, only enough for us to slide through one at a time.
We step around the door to find vines and hanging moss covering our entry to the edge of the village. The door creaks closed and Gryphon takes a hesitant step forward to make sure the coast is clear.
As we step out from behind the vines, Gryphon hands me a thick bundle. I unwind the two silk ribbons and open the fabric to a mask. I look closer and study the animalistic features around the eye holes and covering the nose .
The white crackled shell of the mask reaches up the forehead and out past my ears in sharp, curving points. The area around the eyes are lined in gold and made to curve up in a reptilian manner. Because of the eyes and the way the white shell crackles, it's as if it’s made of large scales. The nosepiece is small and curved and ends in a rounded, golden triangle. The entire mask is encrusted in glass crystals.
“A white dragon?” I ask Gryphon in awe of the mask’s elegant beauty.
“Seems fitting. From what I remember, you used to run around breathing fire all through the halls,” he responds, smiling.
I hold the mask up to my face.
“I hear the villagers have been working for weeks on their masks. They say wearing a mask is a symbol for looking inward, as the Fall Equinox is a time of inward reflection, a time to allow our pasts and futures to come together. Just as the Moon Maiden and the Moon Mother blend together with the present. Bringing us all together with the stars above.”
“That’s beautiful,” I respond, feeling the echo of all I’ve been going through. Where’s this been all our lives? “Well, if I’m a dragon, what does that make you?”
He shrugs and pulls on a mask of silver with large ears flopping out on either side. The nose piece is long and rounded and extremely floppy. A laugh bubbles up from deep within me and comes out louder than it should in the silence that surrounds us. “An elephant?” I laugh, trying to get out in between fits. “I’m surprised you didn’t keep the dragon for yourself.”
He looks down his long elephant nose at me with mock seriousness. “You know, elephants are incredibly wise creatures and they remember everything.” I can’t help but burst at the seams. The emotionally immature man beside me always keeps me guessing. And he’s the only person I know who’d be able to confidently pull off wearing an elephant mask to any kind of celebration.
My mood sobers to match his as I tie the golden ribbon around my head. The mask itself is light enough, and I’m sure I’ll get used to looking through these holes quickly. We lock arms and wind our way through the forest. By the time the forest thins, our feet have found the sandy shoreline.