4. Dimitri
Chapter 4
Dimitri
W ith an indrawn breath, Dimitri took two rapid steps backward. “Apologies, I didn’t—” He wasn’t entirely sure what he was going to say, but Rosalie cut him off before he could make the situation any worse by mangling another apology.
“Did you think about anything at all when you decided to come and live in Glandore—in an abandoned castle, no less?” She drew a horrified breath. “Did you know I live here? Is that why you’re following me around?”
Panic crept in. It clearly wasn’t a good idea to tell her the truth. He was following her because whenever she appeared, he couldn’t look away—even if his presence seemed to make her spit fire. Or maybe it was that fire that so attracted him—making her glow from within. Whatever the cause, everyone else he’d met in the village seemed lifeless in comparison.
“I had no notion you existed until we met yesterday,” he said truthfully, hoping that, at least, was unobjectionable.
Daphne gave a slow clap beside them, startling him. He’d forgotten she was there.
“Well done, Rose,” she said without a trace of mockery. “You almost made it all the way through town!”
“Don’t call me that!” Rosalie snapped, and Dimitri took note that she didn’t like the nickname.
Daphne, however, seemed to know it wasn’t the true source of Rosalie’s irritation.
“You have many talents, dearest friend,” she said sweetly. “But avoiding things is not one of them. May I remind you that as soon as I told you about the open manor door yesterday, you dragged me straight out there? I honestly didn’t think you’d manage to ignore Dimitri for so long.”
Rosalie glared at her friend, and Daphne smiled serenely back.
Dimitri bit down on a smile of his own. Apparently he didn’t need to worry about Rosalie making good on her threat to avoid him. If she had insisted he keep his distance, he would have had to accept it, of course. But it would have been a blow. He had spent far too much of the previous evening thinking of her when he should have been focusing on the continuing mystery of his missing family and whatever threat had sent his mother fleeing the kingdom twenty years ago. But he had only walked into the village in the hope of seeing Rosalie.
“I have a library,” he blurted out, reminded of his previous evening’s task.
He immediately bit down on his tongue. He wasn’t usually so witless. Despite his upbringing, he had some experience talking to women. Even in the small mountain community there had been a few girls who had shown interest. And even more had done so during his journey to the manor. Talking to them hadn’t made him trip over his own tongue. His awkwardness around Rosalie was mortifying, but it still wasn’t enough to make him walk away from the conversation.
“Congratulations,” Rosalie said. “You also have a castle. And you’re a prince.” She glared up at him, clearly feeling none of the admiration for those facts that the girls in Thebarton had demonstrated.
He had spent the whole conversation with Blythe and her friends trying to think of a subtle way to bring up Rosalie and ask if she was likely to visit the town that day. But not even the biggest mountain recluse could have missed the way the group of girls had responded to his revelations.
“Not a prince,” he clarified. “You know how big the Glandorian royal family is. There are useless cousins everywhere.” He had learned that from his mother’s papers, but he assumed it would be common knowledge for someone like Rosalie.
“Useless quibbling.” Rosalie’s eyes narrowed.
It didn’t seem like a meaningless distinction to Dimitri. He still hadn’t recovered from the shock of learning the truth of his heritage. He had been hoping the inhabitants of her manor might give him more information, but there had been no inhabitants, no long-lost family to greet him. Now he had nothing to go on but what he could find in the library—the library plus the enormous tapestry in the entryway which showed a family tree and included his name at the bottom.
He had always known he had been born in Glandore, but it had seemed an abstract fact given he had no memories of the kingdom. Seeing his name on the wall, as solid and immutable as the names of long-dead ancestors, had made it real in a way it hadn’t been before.
But while he was now willing to acknowledge his origins, he couldn’t accept someone classifying him as a prince. His mother had been far from the line of succession, and royalty was a reality too far removed from his. But Rosalie didn’t seem like someone obsessed with rank, titles, or status. If she was bothered about his royal blood, it was for a different reason.
“I read as much as I could find on the Legacies last night,” he said, guessing the Legacy was the source of her agitation. “So now I know why the Glandorian royal family is so large.”
Rosalie’s mouth twisted in impatience. “Yes, yes, the monarchs always have large families because they’re afraid of the Legacy. Risking being left with only one child would be dangerous.” Her expression soured even further. “Just like merchants usually have small families.”
Dimitri winced. He still had a lot to learn about the Legacy, so he wasn’t sure what had upset her in his words.
“I’m still learning,” he said by way of apology. “I didn’t know anything about the Legacies until yesterday.”
Rosalie’s mouth fell open, her earlier distaste wiped clean. “That can’t possibly be true.”
He winced. Did she think he was lying? She seemed determined to think the worst of him at every turn.
“Perhaps it might help my situation if I explain that up until very recently I lived in the mountains,” he said.
“In the mountains?” Rosalie looked from him to Daphne. “Does anyone live in the mountains?”
He wasn’t sure why she was looking to her friend for clarification when he was the one raised there, but he waited for Daphne to confirm his words.
“I think I’ve heard something about a few mountain communities,” she said. “Some people flee the Legacies by leaving the kingdoms entirely. It’s supposed to be a hard life in the mountains, but some find the escape worth it.”
Dimitri nodded. It had been a hard life for many, although the community didn’t let anyone starve. But Dimitri had been shielded from that reality by his mother. She had taken enough valuables with her when she fled to establish the two of them, and she had worked tirelessly every day after to ensure Dimitri had time for study and training. Once he had grown old enough, he had often hunted for them because she deemed hunting to be training of a sort, but most of his time had been spent learning from a handful of their neighbors.
If someone in the community possessed knowledge or skills his mother deemed useful, she had been quick to negotiate deals with them, offering laundry or cooking or child minding in exchange for their tutoring Dimitri. Whenever he had protested that she worked too hard, she had insisted that he could repay her by working equally hard at his study.
He had enjoyed learning to use a sword and bow, but while his other studies had been interesting, he had never understood why his mother thought he needed to know commerce, economics, mathematics, etiquette, or estate management. Such skills were of little use in the mountains.
Of course, it had all made sense after her death when he went through her papers. She had done her best to give him the same education she herself had received. And although she had always talked of Glandore with fear and distrust, he couldn’t help but think her education was a tacit endorsement of the path he had chosen. She had educated him for his true status, so surely she had meant him to reclaim it?
“No one talks about the Legacies in the mountains,” he said aloud, “but now that I’ve read about them, a lot of things make sense that didn’t before. The Legacies might not be openly discussed, but they’re still there, hidden in the cracks of every conversation.”
Rosalie regarded him with a creased brow. She didn’t seem to have softened, exactly, but at least confusion and uncertainty had replaced the outright condemnation in her eyes.
“So you were born in the mountains?” she asked.
He shook his head. “My mother left her home and moved there when I was very small. I don’t remember it, but I was born in Glandore.”
Her brow cleared slightly. “No wonder you wanted to return, then. Was it very uncomfortable being away so long? Daphne’s parents could only bear it for ten years, and you were gone for twenty.”
“Uncomfortable?” He frowned. “I saw a mention of Legacies tying people to their birth kingdom, but I didn’t really understand that part. I never noticed any discomfort.”
“I suppose it’s hard to document because it’s different for everyone,” Daphne said softly. “Part of it is the heart and emotions. Most people have no desire to leave. If they want to travel or move from their place of birth, they do so within the bounds of their own kingdom. But for those who do leave, the discomfort shows up differently for each person, so it would be impossible to make a comprehensive list.”
“Daphne experiences the effects of the Legacy more strongly while in Glandore than she did back in Oakden,” Rosalie added. “That’s how moving affected her. Are you sure you didn’t feel anything in the mountains? Nothing at all? I’ve never heard of someone not being affected.”
Dimitri frowned, searching his memory for any forgotten pain or unusual happenings. He finally shrugged.
“I’ll admit it’s been more pleasant to return than I expected. I feel as if I could run for hours. The air here is so clear.”
Rosalie’s eyebrows rose. “More clear than in the mountains? But everyone always speaks of the high quality of mountain air.”
Dimitri gave an apologetic smile. “I’m explaining it badly. It’s not the air, exactly. I just feel so…” He trailed off, his eyes widening.
Rosalie leaned toward him, although he suspected she didn’t realize she was doing it. Her eyes were fixed on his face. “Feel so what?” she pressed.
“So light,” he said slowly, fascinated by their conversation but also aware of Rosalie’s nearness. “Is this how you feel all the time? Is this normal?”
“You’ll have to be a little more specific,” Daphne said with an amused look.
He grinned. “Now it’s my turn not to make any sense.” He thought for a moment, trying to find words to explain it. “I never thought anything was strange in the mountains, but then I’d never known anything else. When I crossed into Glandore, though, it felt like a weight had lifted off me, but I had no idea…” He paused, trying to sort out his thoughts. “I think maybe the discomfort of being out of the kingdom was like an extra weight, strapped to my shoulders and chest. A weight that was always there. And now feeling normal feels light by comparison.”
“It could have been worse,” Rosalie said matter-of-factly, and Dimitri suddenly wondered how the Legacy had affected his mother. What had she suffered in silence, never letting on to her young son? What could have driven her to such lengths?
“I knew there was some sort of enchantment at work in the kingdoms,” he said. “There were enough hints dropped to pick up that much. But I always thought of it as a terrible curse that made the kingdoms into a monstrous place.” He looked around at the trees which crept toward the road now that the town had ended and at the roses that lined the verge. “It doesn’t look so monstrous to me.”
“It is a curse!” Rosalie said explosively, startling him and pulling his attention back to her.
“Well, I suppose it started out as one,” Daphne amended. “What we have left now—the Legacy—is more like the echo of a curse.” She eyed the closest patch of roses. “A very odd echo.”
“You must have read the history of each kingdom,” Rosalie said. “About the first royal families?”
Dimitri nodded. He had focused most on Glandore, but he had at least skimmed the histories of the other kingdoms.
“So you know they founded beautiful kingdoms, unmarred by war or conflict. Except each of them fell prey to some sort of dark enchantment, and now the… echoes ”—she glanced at Daphne—“of their stories have sunk into the fabric of their kingdoms. That’s the Legacies. It was many generations ago, but we all experience the consequences of their mistakes and suffer alongside their suffering.”
“And we get the benefit of their triumphs,” Daphne added, seeming much less gloomy about the whole topic than Rosalie. “Personally I like roses. And the birds too.”
Birds? Dimitri tried to remember any mention of birds in the histories he’d skimmed but couldn’t. There had been a lot of material, and his mind had still been reeling from the day’s experiences.
“Don’t be ridiculous!” Rosalie gave a strangled sigh. “Who could like roses?”
“I like them.” Dimitri looked down at her, wondering if his face gave away that it wasn’t only the botanical kind he admired. “They don’t grow in the mountains, and I think they’re beautiful.”
Rosalie rolled her eyes. “You would.”
Daphne gave a strangled sound that might have been a suppressed laugh. But when they looked toward her, she was regarding them with her usual air of languor.
“We’ve gotten off topic,” Rosalie said briskly, taking back control of the conversation. “Roses are beside the point.” She frowned. “Or well, not entirely. But the crucial point is that you now know about the Legacy. So when are you going to leave?” She looked at him expectantly.
“Leave?” He stared at her blankly.
She propped her hands on her hips. “You can’t possibly mean to stay! Do you want to end up a witless beast?”
“Err, no. Naturally not,” he said. “But I can’t leave. For one thing, I have nowhere else to go.”
“You’re part of the royal family, and you own an entire castle! Of course you must have somewhere else to go.”
“My lineage might be descended from royalty, but the only relative I’ve ever met is my mother. And she recently died.”
He hadn’t meant to state it so baldly, but the information immediately dimmed Rosalie’s indignation.
“Oh,” she said softly. “I didn’t realize. I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you,” he replied. “It wasn’t sudden, so we had time to say our goodbyes. But even so, she didn’t tell me anything about my family or heritage. I only discovered it from her papers after her death. So if I did want to foist myself on the royal family, I don’t have much in the way of proof. None of them will know me.”
“There’s the castle,” Daphne said. “That supports your claim. Don’t you think, Rosalie?” She glanced down the road in the direction of the manor.
“I’m not sure,” Rosalie replied. “I’d have to see it again today to compare any differences, I think.”
“Please!” Dimitri said promptly. “Be my guest.”
Her eyes narrowed, her face closing off. “Don’t think I’m setting foot in the grounds of that castle ever again!” Her eyes wandered down the road. “But maybe we could just walk past and have a look…”
Daphne grinned knowingly. “I told you that you can’t leave anything alone.”
Rosalie grinned back, apparently unoffended now that her earlier irritation had passed.
“It’s all that extra energy I need to have to make up for you. Imagine if we both did nothing but nap all day!”
“I don’t nap all day!” Daphne protested, but she was smiling.
For the second time, Dimitri fell into step on the other side of Rosalie, this time heading back toward his home instead of away. The lightness of Glandore buoyed his steps, but it was more than that. There was a warmness in his core that came from the company. Walking beside Rosalie and Daphne—feeling the familiarity of it—made him feel as if he had friends. As if he wasn’t alone after all.
He hadn’t realized how much his solitary journey had weighed him down—a sensation that had only grown when he found the manor abandoned. But now here he was, on only his second day, and he wasn’t walking home alone.
He allowed himself to imagine for a moment that they were truly coming back with him. That the three of them would walk into the manor house together and sit down to the midday meal, laughing around the table and exchanging stories. He could show them the library and the books he’d found, and they could tell him which ones to read next. Perhaps Rosalie would?—
He cut off his thoughts. He would be walking into a cold, lifeless manor alone, and such imaginings would only make the reality harder. He was greedy for more of Rosalie—he wanted to know her story and what fueled the fire inside her—but she wanted him to leave—to move to the capital or anywhere that wasn’t near her.
Rosalie and Daphne stopped abruptly, simultaneous gasps dropping from both their lips. Instead of following their gazes, he watched them, amused by their reactions. He had been equally astonished when he had stepped out of the manor that morning and seen the changes that had appeared overnight. He still didn’t understand what it had to do with his birthright, but there was no denying the startling transformation. On his first day, the garden had gone from overgrown and derelict to lush and glowing. But now it looked sculpted, as if it had been growing for years under the loving care of a team of gardeners. And as well as blooming flowers, the trees now bore ripe fruit, despite how little that made sense. It was easy to see why Glandore was the agricultural heart of six kingdoms.
“I’ve heard stories of how the manor used to look before I was born,” Rosalie said, “but it wasn’t anything like this! Look at that fruit!” She stared open-mouthed.
Daphne turned to Dimitri. “Here’s your proof.”
“Maybe,” Rosalie said slowly, drawing out the word. She glanced toward her friend. “It’s not just because he’s a young man—any young man?”
Daphne shook her head firmly. “Yesterday might have been. But this?” She made a sweeping gesture toward the grounds. “In one day? I’ve only ever seen the Legacy use so much power once before.”
She gave Rosalie a significant look, and Rosalie’s mouth tightened, the same mixture of sadness and anger filling her eyes that he had seen before. What had the Legacy done to her?
“I’m not sure I follow,” he said, wanting to distract her. “How does this admittedly impressive and bizarre garden prove my bloodline?”
“I thought you said you read all about Glandore’s history and Legacy last night?” Rosalie exclaimed. “Surely you can’t have missed the part about the poor prince who ended up alone in a castle? It’s the center of the story! And all the descriptions I’ve read make his garden sound just like this.”
Dimitri frowned. Perhaps he shouldn’t have skipped the long descriptions of the gardens. He did remember the castle, though.
“This isn’t a castle,” he said. “It’s a manor house. And the young man in question may have been a prince, but wasn’t he also a Beast at that stage?”
Rosalie waved her arms impatiently, as if brushing aside all his objections.
“Of course it’s not going to fit exactly . If the Legacy was guaranteed to follow the original story exactly, we wouldn’t have a problem. Not only would it be easy to avoid, but we’d at least be guaranteed a happy ending after all those troubles!”
Dimitri looked from Rosalie to Daphne. “Are we not? All the stories I read seemed to work out all right—more or less.”
“That’s because you were reading the original histories,” Rosalie said. “You can’t have had time for much else. But the Legacy isn’t nearly as reliable. It has created plenty of tragedies in the generations since.”
“The Legacy is happy to mimic elements from the story wherever it can,” Daphne said. “No matter how disparate those elements might be. They don’t have to be part of the greater narrative. Like the roses.”
“Is it really true that every flower seed planted in Glandore grows into a rose?” Dimitri asked.
“Have you seen any other flowers since you crossed the border?” Rosalie watched him, clearly already knowing the answer. “And have you seen anyone pick a rose that wasn’t from their own garden?”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “I wasn’t paying much attention, to be honest. But I haven’t seen any other flowers around here. And I certainly haven’t seen anyone picking any.” He grimaced as he considered his own entrancement with the roses on his first day. He had felt the pull since, but it was easy to resist now he knew the dangers of plucking one.
“You won’t see other flowers anywhere in Glandore,” Daphne said, her voice turning wistful. “In Oakden we had roses, but so many other beautiful flowers besides.”
“At least the trees have flowers,” Rosalie said, a note of loyalty creeping into her voice despite her apparent aversion to Glandore’s Legacy. “It’s only flowers that grow in the ground that are affected.”
“Except you don’t have cherry blossoms around here,” Daphne said on a sigh.
“That, at least, is not the Legacy’s fault,” Rosalie said in a spirit of fairness. “But the relevant point is that just because the Legacy works one element of the original story into your life, it doesn’t mean you’ll get all the other elements too. Sometimes that’s useful—we use its power to grow our crops. They grow far faster and better here than other places. But we try to avoid it wreaking havoc in our lives.”
“So you’re saying that the Legacy is transforming the garden because I’m a young man of royal blood living alone in a castle-like building?” Dimitri asked, apprehension rising inside him. “Are you saying it’s going to turn me into a Beast?”
“No,” Rosalie said firmly, “it won’t. Because you’re going to leave.”
Dimitri frowned. He couldn’t dismiss her words as easily as he’d done earlier, but his reasons for staying still remained.
“I can’t do that,” he said slowly. “It’s not just that I have nowhere to go. There are things I still need to discover—about my mother and myself. About my history. And this manor is the only place I know to look.”
“And you’re willing to risk turning into a Beast to get your answers?” Rosalie demanded. “Remember just because the Legacy turns you into a Beast doesn’t mean it will ever turn you back into a prince again.”
Dimitri considered reminding her that he wasn’t a prince to start with but decided against the attempt.
“You said yourself that the Legacy isn’t that predictable,” he said. “So I’ll just have to take my chances. With my mother gone, I have nothing and no one else. I’m not leaving without answers.” He didn’t add that even once he had the answers, he might not leave. This place was his heritage. It was where his mother had grown up. He belonged here, even if it didn’t properly feel like it yet. His ancestors had managed to survive without all turning into Beasts. He would find a way, too.
“The problem,” Rosalie said, “is that the Legacy gets stronger the more closely the situation aligns with the original tale. That’s why Daphne said this garden could prove your royal blood. It transformed so quickly because the Legacy is pouring power into it. And it’s doing that because it has a young, handsome prince living alone in a castle.”
Despite himself, Dimitri’s mouth curved upward at hearing her call him handsome. From the glare she gave him, though, she knew exactly what he was thinking and was daring him to comment on it.
“There’s no point looking so pleased with yourself,” Daphne said, reminding him that he and Rosalie weren’t the only two there. “I think Rosalie would treat you more kindly if you were hideous.”
The two girls exchanged a look laden with meaning. While Dimitri now knew about the Legacy, there was clearly a great deal about Rosalie he still didn’t understand.
“I suppose the manor house has become more livable too.” Daphne gazed wistfully at the building at the end of the curved drive.
“Don’t even think about it, Daph.” Rosalie gave her a warning look. “We will not be going in just to rest our feet—or any other part of our persons. We’re staying right here on the road.”
Daphne gave her a pleading look, but she stood firm.
“In fact,” she added, “we’re not even going to stay here. We’re going back.”
“Already?” Dimitri asked before he could stop himself.
Rosalie gave him a quelling look. “Don’t you start too. You should go inside and do some more reading and then do some reflecting. It’s never too soon to start packing to go.”
Dimitri remained silent. She was right about the research, but he wouldn’t be leaving. Not now. Not yet.
Rosalie turned to leave before hesitating and turning back. Her eyes skimmed over him, coming to rest on his empty hands.
“You said you went into Thebarton to get supplies, but you followed us out before you had a chance to buy anything.” She hesitated again, clearly torn. “Will you be all right? Do you have what you need? You’re not short on food or anything?”
Dimitri blinked, thrown off guard by her question. Despite her antagonism toward him, and her constant entreaties for him to leave, she was worried about him.
He smiled. “I’m fine. I won’t be starving any time soon.”
“Of course he won’t be,” Daphne said. “He has an enchanted castle.”
Rosalie still hesitated for a moment before deciding that was a valid point.
“In that case,” she said, “just remember why there’s food appearing on your plate. Let it remind you why it’s a bad idea to stay.”
This time when she turned to leave, she didn’t pause or look back, and all too soon, she had disappeared from sight.
Dimitri roused himself to walk slowly down the drive toward his new home. It was just as lonely a prospect as he had anticipated, so he didn’t hurry. Instead, his thoughts remained full of Rosalie.
Daphne was right about her. For all Rosalie’s attempts to be prickly and defensive, she couldn’t help showing her true self. And her true self cared—she cared about what was happening around her, about her family, even about strangers she met on the road. Rosalie’s true self saw a problem and wanted to fix it, without thought of the cost to herself.
It was no wonder she was so fascinating to him. He had spent his whole life surrounded by people who had run away from their problems. And up until a few days ago, he had allowed himself to be one of them. In the mountains he had known his place and his role. His life had been simple, and he had been content with that. Once he had left childhood behind, he had never pressed his mother to tell him why she left Glandore and her people behind.
He told himself he was keeping the peace, but in truth, he hadn’t wanted to know. He hadn’t wanted to take her burden on his shoulders. He understood her situation a little better now, and his past actions filled him with shame. She had silently borne the unknown pain of leaving her birth kingdom, and she could only have done it because of a pain that was deeper still. What sort of son would let his mother carry that alone?
Ever since he had left the mountains and stepped into Glandore, the past seemed more dreamlike than real. It was hard to remember why everything had felt so heavy and burdensome that he couldn’t bear the thought of a further load.
Was that what Rosalie and Daphne had meant about the tie to your birth kingdom starting in your heart? It wasn’t only his body that had been heavy in the mountains.
But even as he thought it, it felt like an excuse. He only had to picture Rosalie in his place to know she wouldn’t have given in to the sensation. As it was, she was clearly carrying a burden from something the Legacy had done, but it wasn’t enough to extinguish her spark. She hadn’t stopped caring.
It was that irrepressible spirit in her that drew him to her. But admiring her drive wasn’t enough. He had to do better himself. He had to prove he wouldn’t let the Legacy defeat him. He wouldn’t be driven from his home by fear.
He would stay right where he was. He would discover what had haunted his mother, and what had happened to his family. And then he would find out what had happened to Rosalie. It was too late for him to lift his mother’s weight, but it wasn’t too late to help Rosalie.