40. Is This… Girls Night?
40
Is This… Girls Night?
Aliza
F or the next hour, I waited in my old room at Nairsgarth, shifting between lying on my bed, and sitting in various chairs, or standing and staring at the clock on the mantlepiece as it ticked away the seconds. My weak legs refused to hold me for long, but the magic of Neath was already making its effects felt. My head was clearing, and my hands no longer trembled.
I was part hope, part dread. Idris had promised to collect some of my clothes from home and deliver them to me, but I couldn’t decide if I was looking forward to seeing him or not.
Neither could I decide how to feel about the whole 'abdicated prince swears to take his rightful place’ fiasco. I’d toyed with this exact hope for weeks. I’d lamented Idris’ foolishness at throwing a wrench into what should have been a perfectly engineered machine.
Fate.
Was all of this predestined? Were we supposed to be each other’s king and queen? It was like a puzzle piece had slotted into place, but the jigsaw was far from complete, and half the pieces were missing. I could see some of the final image, but most of it was still a jumbled mess .
The minutes snailed by, and still there was no knock at the door. The promised hour passed. An hour and a half. Nothing. Nobody.
Frustration boiled in my stomach, but I couldn’t place its source. I didn’t even want to see Idris. Did I?
Snarling, I stomped across the room with no plan in my head, only that I couldn’t spend another minute in this suite. I tore the door open, and the world fell still.
Three large suitcases were standing in a precise row outside my door, and laid on top of them was an envelope and a single pink rose.
He wasn’t coming back, after all.
Something tightened in my chest, twisting. I extended a trembling hand and picked up the flower. It was pristine and beautiful, its petals almost an exact match for the pink I’d once sported in my hair. It was no coincidence. I had no doubt that Idris would have chosen it with that exact thought in mind. I buried my nose in the petals, breathing in the delicate scent, then turned my attention to the envelope. When my fingers slotted under the paper, they brushed something else. A stack of photographs. I dropped the envelope, clapping a hand to my mouth as my eyes flooded. A much younger Mum and Dad stared up at me, smiling as they cradled a bundle of blankets. Me.
I snatched up the stack and dashed back to my room, depositing the rose, envelope and photos on my pillow, then dragged the suitcases inside. Not bothering to do more than dump them behind the door, I flew across the room and dived onto the bed. Tears streamed down my face as I skimmed through a collection of family photos, and a few of my friends that I recognised from my social media posts. Once I’d cycled through them twice, I placed them down reverently and picked up the envelope. It wasn’t sealed. Inside I found a thick sheet of card, which turned out to be an invitation to Anwir’s ball, and a folded bit of rough paper. Its edges were tattered, as though it had been torn from a book. By its size and the age-yellowed colouring, I suspected I knew exactly which book it had come from.
Relief flooded my eyes as I pressed the paper to my chest. Idris’ sketchbook had survived my fire. The paper trembled as I opened it.
Aliza,
I know, better than anyone perhaps, how much a picture can mean. I asked your parents for some photographs to replace those you lost in the fire. It is my wish that they will help you feel a little less alone, and remind you that you are loved in both worlds.
Whatever you do next, I remain yours.
As long as life endures,
Idris
Flopping onto my back, I clutched the note to my chest. Endless tears streamed down my temples and into my hair. I stayed that way, holding his words to my heart, with the people I loved scattered around me, until darkness fell and sleep claimed me.
There was a moment after waking, and before opening my eyes, when all was well. Before the pain of yesterday and the dread of tomorrow roused themselves from slumber. When the world was peaceful and silent and warm .
That was where I wanted to stay.
But my body drifted back to wakefulness, and my fingers curled around something other than the cotton of my bedsheets. Something crisp and rough. The invitation.
My eyes fluttered open.
Moss green eyes stared back.
With a yelp, I scrambled across my bed, away from the witch. Sage only lifted a steaming teacup to her lips, regarding me thoughtfully over the leaf-patterned rim.
“What are you doing here?” I gasped, clutching my blankets to my chest. I hadn’t bothered to change out of the sleep tee I’d rotted in for the past week.
“Paying you a visit.”
Since I’d broken the curse, Sage had barely spared a glance at me, and yet here she was, lounging at my bedside, quite at her leisure. She waved a dainty hand to a tray on my nightstand, laden with a selection of fruits and golden, flaky bakes. The rose Idris had given me stood alone in a small vase beside the tray. My eyes caught on it, everything in my head falling silent.
“You must be hungry after your stint in the human world.”
My gaze shifted between the food and the witch, while my magically recovered stomach roared its approval at the offering.
“I thought you were at Tir o Gaeaf.” Idris had said the rest of the coven had arrived in my absence. Surely Sage would want to oversee them?
“Unfortunately, I have coven business to attend to, and since His Royal Highness informed us you would be staying here for a while, I thought I might say hello. ”
“Hello?”
Sage gave me a closed-lipped smile that made me think of snakes and stalking cats. “Hello, Aliza.” She nodded to the mess of my bed, and I followed her gaze, my eyes landing on the invitation. “Will you be attending?”
“I haven’t decided yet. You?”
“That depends on how my business plays out.” She fixed me with an appraising stare. “Granny is dying.”
Shock hit me like a frying pan to the face. It was ridiculous considering the old woman was, well… ancient, but I’d grown complacent, assuming that everything and everyone in Neath lived forever. Witches had a much longer lifespan than humans, but they were still mortal.
“I’m so sorry,” I managed. “I know you’re both close.”
Sage dipped her chin in acknowledgement. “Yes, things won’t be the same without her.”
That was one way of putting it. I might even miss the intolerable old hag and her hooting laugh, one day.
Sage continued. “As expected, she has named me her successor.”
“Oh. Congratulations.”
“Which brings me to the reason for my visit.”
“I thought you wanted to say hello?”
“Amongst other things.” She leaned forward, the steam from her mug coiling around her face. “Aliza, we stand at the cusp of great change. Throughout known history, the throne of Neath has belonged to one bloodline. No longer. If what Maelgwyn told you is to be believed, it belongs to you now. Oh, Prince Anwir might kick up a fuss, but that will not matter to the ancient magic imbued in that throne. It is yours. No other can claim it. Not only are you of new blood, but a new species, too. A human.”
“Not anymore,” I reminded her, pointing at my ear. Where was she going with this pep talk?
“You were born a human. A bit of magic doesn’t change that. Tell me, do you intend to claim your seat?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted, squirming internally. “It’s a big decision.”
“Indeed, but rest assured, while you dally, others are already plotting how that decision may benefit them, me included.”
I blinked at the straightforward honesty.
“As leader of this coven, it will be my responsibility to renew old alliances and forge new ones. I would rather like to strike up a friendship with the Human Queen of Neath.”
Okay, this had to be a joke. Sage had used and betrayed me as much as anyone, and now she talked of alliances and friendship?
“I understand that you and Prince Idris are… involved?”
“How do you know that?” Surely Idris wasn’t spreading gossip?
“Anwir told me.”
I blinked at the overly familiar use of his name.
“Oh, do catch up, girl. Witches do not have mating bonds, but for me, Anwir is as close as it gets.”
“I… Anwir? And you?” Sage was the witch Anwir loved. The witch he’d planned to keep on the sidelines while he bred me, bringing her to the forefront once my mortal life had ended. I shouldn’t be surprised. Sage had lied from the moment I met her. I couldn’t even summon any anger, just a dull sense of boredom at the revelation of yet another lie .
“Yes, but more to the point, Idris and you .”
“How does Anwir know?” I couldn’t imagine the twins sharing a brotherly chat about their love lives.
“I believe it has something to do with the two of you being painfully obvious,” Sage said with a faint smirk, “but when Idris cracked Anwir’s skull against the wall, it confirmed his suspicions that something was afoot between the two of you.”
I pursed my lips, stewing over the memory Sage invoked. Idris had overreacted in my defence. He’d threatened to electrocute his twin. Those weren’t the actions of somebody faking affection.
“Will you accept him?”
I bit back my words. If Sage was banging Anwir, then anything I said would be repeated, and as had already been pointed out, Anwir was probably going to kick up a fuss about not getting his throne.
“I haven’t decided that either.”
“Was he the reason you went back to the human realm?”
“That was an accident. My magic… I couldn’t control it.”
“Listen to me, girl. It does not matter who we take to our beds, you and I are rulers in our own rights. True, I will rule a coven while you shall rule five kingdoms, but the fact remains, we bear the power.”
“Anwir isn’t going to be happy about that.”
Sage snorted. “Do you care what makes Anwir happy?”
God, I was confused. Was this a dream? “No?”
“Good.” There it was again, that smile that sent shivers down my spine. “I say this with the utmost love for Anwir, but the throne is yours. For him to fight for it would be futile, and I’m growing more certain by the minute that if you do take a prince as your groom, it won’t be him. This suits me well. With Anwir free of the burden of ruling, my time will not be torn.”
“I’m confused.”
“Then allow me to be crystal clear. Do not be a fool, girl. Idris may be your lover, but do not allow his disdain for his birthright to stand in your way.”
I opened my mouth, sucking down a breath to fuel the stream of words that never came.
“You have power, and I do not mean the power to burn down a palace.” She smirked, eyes shining with amusement. “I have known many human girls who fancied their chances at breaking that curse. I remember each of their names. All of them had heads stuffed full of the most tedious dreams. They thought only of the princes, of true love.” She said it like it was something filthy. “I helped many of them as best I could. They all died. And yet, here you are. Different, certainly. You had not the slightest interest in the rewards of breaking the curse. You are brash and improper, much to Granny’s delight. You are outspoken and determined. Brave. Good. Powerful . Unpolished you may be, but you have the makings of a great ruler, and if your deeds in Tir o Gaeaf are any indication, you possess great power. That throne, these kingdoms, they will answer to you if only you dare to command them. Do not let any male stand in your way, just as Anwir will not stand in mine. Continue to be different .”
Several seconds passed before I wrangled my dazed senses enough to say, “Wow. I didn’t have you down as such a feminist.”
Then again, the witches were a matriarchy. They used men the same way men had used women for centuries, for breeding. It was poetic, really .
“So… you don’t want your… Anwir on the throne?”
“Mother above, no.” She sipped her tea before continuing. “In breaking the curse, I have achieved what I have worked half my life for. Anwir is free. Should he shackle himself to his throne, it will only be another sort of prison.”
Comforting, considering she was trying to talk me into claiming that prison for myself.
“But I don’t get it. Don’t you love Anwir?”
“Of course I do, but rest assured, he will not come between me and my coven. The question isn’t if we love these males, but if we love ourselves. Anwir will follow me when I take the helm of Nairsgarth, for without a throne, he will have no obligation to anything but me. Idris loves you. It is as plain as porridge. Whatever you are feeling, know that he feels it too. He is drawn to you. Should you choose your kingdom, he will follow, of that I am certain.”
If only I could be so sure. The promises in his note were a direct contradiction of a centuries-long refusal to step up and do the right thing.
Sage drained her cup and rose to her feet. “Now, I am going to visit Granny. Eat, and I will be back shortly. There is much work to be done here.”
“What work?”
“We cannot have you burning down Nairsgarth, can we?”
She turned to leave, but I scrambled from the bed, following. “Wait. You can teach me how to use my magic?”
Sage threw a glance over her shoulder. “No, but there are others who can. Might I suggest a bath, as well? ”
The door slammed shut, and I lifted my middle finger with venom. I couldn’t be angry though. I did need a bath, and for the first time since I’d seen a bleeding Idris leaning against the door of the makeshift ward, a ray of hope pierced the clouds of my misery.