22. Chapter 22
22
BEATRICE
Polished wooden bookshelves loomed on every side of me, and the smell of old books filled the air. All around my little hideaway, freestanding stacks rose higher than my head. What a literary treasure house!
Straightening my skirts, I stood upright, my heart racing in anticipation. My gown’s loose-fitting bodice and knee-length skirt had vertical black-and-white stripes, while a snug band of horizontal stripes hugged my hips. I reached up to find my hair in a tight bun hidden beneath a turban, which confirmed the era. Once again, I was a century in the past.
He's got to be here. Why else would I have this dream?
“Niel?” It was silly to speak just above a whisper, but I was afraid to raise my voice. After all, I was in a library. I tried again, slightly louder: “Niel?”
When an unforgettable voice answered “Hello?” from somewhere near, I nearly fell over with excitement.
“I’m here. Where are you?”
Niel appeared around a stack, one finger tucked between the pages of a book. His eyes were wide, and his face went white, then very red. His mouth worked, but no sound emerged until he breathed out, “Beatrice!” I’d never heard my name spoken with more emotion.
“Niel!” I felt like crying—which was unreasonable. It was only a few weeks since I’d dreamed of him the first time.
But he was taller than I remembered, and his face was less boyish, more manly, and browned by the sun. He evidently hadn’t shaved recently—stubble darkened his chin, and his tawny hair stuck up and out as if he’d been running his fingers through it—far more attractive without pomade plastering it to his head.
Oh my, but he looked good! My eyes drank in every detail: a tweedy pair of trousers, his vest hanging open over a white shirt unbuttoned at the throat. He was still lean but thicker in the shoulders, and his rolled-up sleeves revealed tanned forearms corded with muscle.
His return gaze revealed equal admiration and awe until he gave a sudden start, looked down at himself, dropped the book on a table, then tried to button his vest while simultaneously rolling down his sleeves. “I apologize—”
I stepped forward to grasp his big hands. “This is no time for formality!” I couldn’t help smiling from ear to ear.
His hands relaxed in my grasp, then turned to wrap around mine, warm and callused. While he stared down at me, his mouth working as though someone had stolen his power of speech, I asked, “You look older. How long has it been?”
After a hard swallow, he said, “Two years last winter.”
I inhaled sharply. Two years ? After being years younger, then a few years older, I was finally near his age. How very strange all this must have felt to him! It was weird enough for me after just a few days.
Slowly, almost fearfully, he lifted my right hand and pressed his warm lips to it, then laid my palm over his rough cheek, making my heart race and my cheeks grow hot. “Just when I began to fear that you were only a beautiful dream, here you are.”
“I’m the one who’s dreaming. Again. But . . . two years?” A sudden dread nearly stole my power of speech, and I stepped back, pulling out of his grasp. “You aren’t . . . married, are you?”
“No!” He reached for me, eyes intense, then checked himself and let out a humorless laugh. “I am neither married nor promised to anyone. No one can force me to wed against my will.”
He studied me with an intensity that might have been frightening if I’d had anything to hide. “I panicked when you vanished.” His voice was almost a growl. “I knew it was magic, but nothing I tried could bring you back—and I didn’t give up easily. I would have doubted my own sanity, but . . .”
“But what?” I asked just above a whisper.
“It sounds insane even to me, but . . . all that time, I could always feel you, your existence somewhere. Not in a place I could go, and yet real. I knew we would meet again in this life. But in the interim, I . . . I had to focus on being king and on . . . on other things I could control.”
His eyes appeared almost golden by daylight. “What did happen to you? Why did you vanish?” He reached for my left hand and gently rubbed my bare ring finger. “No ring. I still have hope.”
Hearing him speak with such passion about me was almost frightening. “I woke up in a dark cave and cried. I thought I would never see you again. I can’t even . . .”
My voice broke. Too many emotions rushed through me. So, as usual when I had no idea how to react, I tried to lighten the mood. “I just . . . I feared you would forget me and go find a woman to marry who doesn’t vanish when you try to kiss her.”
One corner of his mouth curled upward, and he peered at me from under his brows. “I might be gun-shy of kissing you from now on,” he murmured, eyes glinting. “Your disappearance knocked me sideways. Was my kiss so bad that you vanished to escape it?”
“Oh, no!” I exclaimed, then felt my face go hot.
He smiled, yet when he gently brushed his thumb over my cheek, I felt his hand tremble. “Do you do it often?”
His eyes and touch were mesmerizing. “D-do what?”
“Vanish when a man kisses you?”
An awkward laugh burst from me. “Not very frequently.” But I could guess what he really wanted to know. “The only other man who’s ever kissed me is my father.” Judging by its temperature, my face must have been beet-red.
“Truly?” His voice was a low rumble. His hands sliding down my arms left a tingling trail. I didn’t know what to do. Should I pretend I didn’t notice his touch? Or should I dispense with the talking, grab his face, and kiss him even though I didn’t exactly know how?
“I’ve never had a boyfriend.” My voice was too loud, so I lowered it. “I’ve never even been on a true date. I was a young teen when I started working as a nanny, and there’s simply been no opportunity for romance.” The Gamekeeper’s impossible proposals didn’t count.
He studied me through those ridiculous lashes, and then something like an invisible mask seemed to slip from his face and a shy smile warmed his eyes. “I’ve never been on a date either. At my eleventh birthday party, some girls ganged up, chased me around my mother’s walled garden, and plastered a few kisses on me, but my mother put a quick stop to that. I’m not sure whether I was more disappointed or relieved. Until you appeared at my ball, that was the extent of my kissing experience.”
I had to laugh, and the tension between us dissipated. “A boy tried to kiss me once at a party when I was little. I slugged him. He cried.”
Niel shuddered. “Girls are scary.”
We simply grinned at each other. Knowing that he was as nervous and uncertain as I was made it all right somehow. Yet I found the attraction between us impossible to ignore and still didn’t know what to do with it.
“You didn’t seem nervous about kissing me last time,” I observed.
He paused, appearing to think back. “You’re right. I wasn’t. But that was before my kiss made you vanish.” He glanced at the stacks around us, drew a quick breath, and offered me his arm. “Would you accompany me into the gardens? I think—I hope —conversation might flow more easily there.”
“Yes.” I laid my hand on his sleeve, and he talked about the library while we passed between the stacks, although scarcely a word of it stuck in my brain. And when he opened a small door into a vivid jungle of greenery and flowers, the fresh air on my face offered blessed relief.
“This is lovely!” Insufficient praise, to be sure, but it was the best I could do. To further ease my nerves, I stepped away to examine the flowers.
He followed me at a polite distance. “I cross-examined the two maids who helped prepare you for the ball. They suspected your presence was magical but couldn’t explain why they didn’t ask how you came to be in the guest room or where you came from or anything else. They did tell me you were a lovely person. But I already knew that much.”
My eyes skimmed over a flower-bedecked fountain while memories and questions flocked through my head. “Hortense and Geneva were kind to me. I thought it was only a dream, so I went along with it and enjoyed myself. If I hadn’t been stuck in a mountain cave, I would have tried to research the time period as soon as I woke up.”
He gently touched my arm. “You mentioned the cave last time.”
I turned to study his face. “Am I talking too much again?”
“I find every word you speak fascinating, Beatrice. But I am afraid of somehow dooming any future we might have.”
My stomach clenched. “Future? How can we possibly have a future when you’re far in my past?”
I couldn’t read his emotions as he replied, “Instead of telling me about your recent past, will you share your personal history? Just be sure to leave out any major world events.”
I wanted to question him further, but the apprehension in his voice and eyes gave me pause. It was easy enough to share the basics about my parents, Auntie Bella, and Princess Eddi. I did panic a little after mentioning Faraway Castle—Was the resort a major world event?—and veered off into Eddi’s flying-horse races and engagement to Kai. But that also got tricky, so I turned to ballet, tennis, and language studies with Pearl and Heloise. Niel listened with so much interest that I dared to ask a question weighing on my mind: “Does the Queen Mother still hope you will marry soon?”
His chuckle sounded wry. “Mother frequently attempts to set me up with available princesses and noblewomen, but I fob them off on nobles and courtiers. I do have a few trusted allies in my resistance, including my cousin Arabella. I’m currently working with her and another powerful sahira on possible ways to freeze my age until I can find you in the future.”
His casual admission boggled my brain. Imagining complete strangers working on a way for Niel and me to be together in the same time period sent chills up my spine. “You, your cousin Arabella, me, and . . . who is the sahira?”
“One of Bella’s friends. We’ve put her in charge of keeping our activities private—which makes sense because, well, she’s the queen of merfolk in a large portion of the South Dynamic Ocean.”
“I met a mermaid princess once,” I mused aloud. “I was her bridesmaid. You call your cousin ‘Bella’? I have an Auntie Bella.”
Uncertainty plagued me. Should I simply relax and enjoy this meeting that couldn’t possibly be real, or should I be concerned? “Does your mother know you plan to use your magic to freeze your age?” I bent to sniff an enormous red rose, hoping to conceal my misgivings.
His answer only increased my concern: “No one even tangentially involved in human governance is aware of our efforts. In fact, my telling you makes a total of four people in the know.”
I had to say it. “Is freezing time possible? Is it legal or . . . or moral?”
His eyes were like warm honey. “Ahh! You value integrity. Few people do, these days. According to my cousin, the earth will turn and years will pass the same as ever. Only I will stop aging.”
“Your people will surely notice if their king never gets older,” I pointed out, trying to sound calm and reasonable.
“I’ll need to use an appearance spell. You know, to look whatever age I would naturally be. And eventually I’ll have to fake my death, I suppose.”
He sounded so confident that I felt foolish for worrying, but I had to ask, “Aren’t you afraid something might go wrong?” I didn’t know much about magic, but I’d heard and seen enough weird things to be suspicious.
“No.” He looked genuinely puzzled, but then his brow smoothed. “You can trust me: we won’t attempt this until we’ve smoothed out every possible wrinkle.”
“But if people find out you’re deceiving them with magic, terrible things could happen. Things you can’t anticipate. My best friend nearly died last summer because a jealous girl with a magic—”
He gave his head a sharp shake. “Too much information.”
“Then please tell me you won’t endanger anyone so that we can be together.”
Dismay filled his eyes as he stepped closer. “Beatrice, I would never harm people to get my way. Not even to be with you.”
His assurance sounded genuine. His eyes were clear, guileless. I wanted so much to believe him . . .
“Please don’t worry.” His hands lifted toward me, clenched, then dropped to his sides. He paced a few steps away before turning back. “The seer foretold that I would find my True Love, and here you are. It will all work out for us with no harm to anyone.”
Although I could see that he genuinely believed this, deciding to marry someone after a few brief meetings in dreams hardly seemed sensible to me. Okay, fine: it sounded downright crazy. Not to mention . . . controlling. As if our marriage were a foregone conclusion that required only magic to make everything perfect.
Almost as if he’d glimpsed my thoughts, he shook his head and changed the subject. “Here I’d hoped to learn all about you, and instead I now know all about your friends. No more deflection if you please.”
Talk about deflection! I nearly chided him for it, but the puppy-dog pleading in his eyes softened my heart. What would be the point in getting irritated with an overbearing yet charming king who quite possibly existed only in my subconscious mind? Why argue when these might be our last few moments together?
I worked up a smile. “Fine. For every question you ask, I get to ask one of you.” I felt a bit weak in the knees, so I took refuge on a shaded bench.
When I looked up again, his hands were stuffed into his trouser pockets. “You’re so difficult to manage,” he joked, yet I heard relief in his voice.
“You may as well give up trying. I’m incorrigible.” I smiled to soften my words. With each passing moment, I saw more of the spoiled prince in him, which somehow made the situation easier to deal with. “I’ll start. What was your favorite subject to study in school?”
His expression brightened, and he paced before me with measured steps. “In ordinary school, mathematics. In magical studies? Time.”
“Time? That’s natural, not magical.”
He gave me the side-eye. “Why can’t it be both?” When I could offer no answer, he asked, “What was yours?”
“History, I suppose. Or music. To my way of thinking, the two subjects are linked. The same with art.”
“Do you play an instrument or sing? Or perhaps you paint?”
“I play piano, but both my talent and my time to pursue any of the arts are limited.”
“Yet you have an artist’s eye and ear. Interesting!” His evident approval warmed me. “And a solid grasp of history is essential for making sense of the present. Now it’s my turn to choose the question. If you could have any creature as a companion, what would it be?”
“I would choose a cat, I think. They’re complex, beautiful, and entertaining. How about you?”
His forehead crinkled as he paced back and forth before me. “I’ve owned dogs, horses, and even a falcon. No cats though. I’ll have to share yours someday. I’ll say . . . a lion. Or maybe an eagle.”
I chuckled. “ You could pass for a lion, the way you prowl.”
With a wry smile, he settled on the bench beside me and reached to take my hand. “Guess I’m overstrung.”
“I should say you are.” Even as our fingers linked perfectly and invisible flames raced up my arm, I strove to keep the situation light. “Now, if you could visit any place in the world, where would you go?”
He studied our interlocked hands. “If I could take you with me, I believe I would enjoy a remote tropical island.”
His sultry tone sent heat rushing into my face, but my mind pictured the impossible tropical island in Faraway Lake . . . and I wondered yet again if the resort had existed in his time. Aloud, I merely said, “That would be fun. But I think I’d like to travel across the world and stop in many places, not just one.”
“Then let’s do it.” He spoke in a lighter tone as he rose from the bench, tugging me up with him. “We can begin by finishing our tour of the garden.”
Relief and possibly a touch of disappointment cooled my face. Had I imagined more romance than he intended? All this fated-mates talk seemed a bit crazy.
“Sounds like a feasible goal.” Determined to forget real-world problems and simply enjoy the moment, I soaked in his flattering attentions while we strolled winding paths.
In recent years, I’d conversed and even danced with several attractive and flirtatious men at Faraway Castle. Not once, while watching them walk away, had I felt so much as a twinge of hurt or regret.
But Niel . . . His charm captivated me in a way I’d never experienced with any other man. Even his imperfections, troubling though they were, failed to dim this attraction—it surpassed physical or even emotional bonds, as if he might somehow have been a missing part of me. Was it possible for a subconscious mind to produce something it could not comprehend?
Could this be . . . real?
“You aren’t using magic on me, are you?” I interrupted whatever he’d been saying and fixed my gaze on his face.
The hurt in his eyes answered my question before he spoke. “I am not. I will never use magic on you without your express permission . . . except maybe to save your life in an emergency. But don’t feel guilty for suspecting my motives.” He sounded subdued. “You are wise to question a person you’ve met only three times in magical circumstances. This is a most . . . unusual situation.”
“To say the least! I . . . don’t know what to think.” Did this man truly exist somewhere back in time? My mind boggled . . .
“You still believe this is only a dream.”
My gaze flashed to meet his. “Yes. Mostly.”
As he drew and exhaled a long breath, I couldn’t help observing the slope of his shoulders, and . . . well . . . I seemed to be shockingly shallow in my dreams.
“In your place,” he said, “I would be equally skeptical. But someday—very soon in your time—I shall remind you of this conversation, and we’ll smile at our doubts. At least,” he hesitated, then tried again, “that is, if all goes according to plan.” His curled forefinger lifted my chin until our eyes met. “If I don’t meet you soon, you will know that I died trying to reach you. I will never give up, Beatrice.”
The intensity of his eyes, his voice . . . It was too much to take in. My mind wanted to reject it all. I gave him a short nod and turned my face away. Any distraction would do.
I’d been so focused on Niel that I scarcely knew what the garden looked like. Truthfully, I didn’t care. Nevertheless, I stopped on the path in a gap between flowering trees to focus on the palace itself, taking in towers, turrets, and terraces enough to satisfy even the most romantic of hearts. But I was still aware of Niel. Of his troubled gaze on my face. How could a dream affect me this way? I inwardly shook myself. Focus, girl!
“Where are we?” I asked. “I mean, where is this palace located?”
“In Bludenz, the capital, but it has magic of its own.”
“The Palace of Bludenz has magic? Is that why I keep coming here?” Before he could answer, I shook my head, suddenly angry. “This entire situation is impossible! How can I be holding hands with a king who lived long before I was born?” I lifted our clasped hands. “Am I here, or is this only a dream? And if I am here . . .”
I completed the thought in silence: Can I truly be in love with a man I might never meet outside my dreams?
“Beatrice?”
Blinking quickly, I met his worried gaze. How impossibly gorgeous he was! My fingers touched his face, feeling the warmth of his smooth skin, then the slight scratch of whiskers. I’ve never been good at identifying scents, but I knew he smelled good—outdoorsy and clean, like a pine forest but better.
In return, he brushed his slightly rough fingertips across my cheek, and when he met my gaze with a tentative, hopeful look, I amazed even myself by rising on tiptoe and leaning in to press my lips to his.
But the instant before our lips touched, I blinked at a huge yellow beak and fierce yellow eyes. “Dream end now,” Chicky stated, purring in satisfaction with herself. “Beeetrice need sleep.” Her tone was exactly the one I’d used while putting the griflets to bed, way back . . . last week? Two weeks ago? . . . when they were little.
I found it most annoying.
The fire had burned low, and I shivered without my feathery blanket. “Fine. I’ll get back in bed.” I was halfway there before I turned back. “Can you see my dreams?”
“I see my Beeetrice with king who loves her.” Her smug tone was insufferable.
“Why didn’t you let me kiss him?” I mumbled.
“Sleep now, Beeetrice!”
Great. I had a griflet for a mother.
Arabella
“Mind you,” my story continued, “I make no excuse for my choices or theirs. But I knew my cousin well, and our impossible endeavor was real for him. I mean, he was a passionate, persuasive, and scary-powerful young man whose True Love seemed forever out of his reach—and both Pukai and I were coming off heartbreaking loss and disappointment—and, well, we made some serious mistakes.”
“Such as?” Briar asked abruptly. “Please get to the point.”
I wanted to challenge his demand, but I didn’t have the right. Instead, I wilted back in my chair. I had no choice but to lay out my failings and Pukai’s for all to see . . . and Niel’s, most of all.
“After Beatrice’s second appearance, this time in the palace gardens, Niel behaved like a man obsessed. Which, to be fair, he was. Obsessed with a beautiful girl who wouldn’t even be born for decades. Pukai’s first husband had just been killed in a politically and personally embarrassing situation, so our project was a useful diversion for her. Working with her soothed my aching spirit as well. Between us, we discovered a way to indefinitely pause a mortal’s aging process. Only a few evil enchantresses and fiendish mages had successfully accomplished it before, as far as we could tell, and all of them had fallen prey to heroic knights, noble dwarves, plucky servant girls, and, oddly enough, one clever cat.
“Niel, meantime, was embroiled in governmental issues, attempting to prevent a war between two neighboring countries, and assisting in the takedown of a dictator backed by a—”
“We don’t need historical details right now,” Ellie pointed out in her gentle way.
My audience had become restless.
“What happened with your spell?” Briar asked outright.
I shifted in my chair, suddenly reluctant to share the climax of the debacle. “It’s important for you to understand that it was an unstable point in history. If not for that, I doubt even Niel would have persuaded Pukai and me to follow through. During a huge naval battle between two nations, Niel dragged me along to Pukai’s personal island in the South Dynamic Ocean and told us he could wait no longer.”