Chapter 30 The Stones Are Siblings
The Stones Are Siblings
Lately, the girls had started gathering in the common room after dinner.
Demelza wasn’t certain when it had started, but she wasn’t complaining.
The last few days had been strangely quiet and in the absence of a royal summons, the girls invariably drifted together.
After the first time, Edmea mentioned that she used to sit with her mother after dinner and together they’d apply a mask of mashed dusk berries and egg whites and while it dried, they’d drink tea and talk of the day.
“The mask is a necessity for maintaining a glowing complexion,” she’d said. “Pity I forgot to bring my powdered supply of them…”
The comment made Ursula look up from where she was rummaging through a bowl of green apples. “Dusk berries? I saw a fresh bramble of them the other day in the woods … they’re not far.”
And somehow, that led to Ursula foraging, Edmea concocting, Talvi even volunteering a few patches of thin ice to cool the skin beneath their eyes, Zoraya braiding everyone’s hair out of the way, and now it had become something of a ritual.
Demelza would have called it friendship if she wasn’t certain the word would spook Edmea into her chambers for the remainder of the competition.
Even Cordelia, who seemed to prefer her own company to everyone else’s, would come out for an hour or so. She wouldn’t let Zoraya touch her hair. But she would daintily apply the paste of mashed dusk berries to a few spots on her otherwise perfect blue skin.
An hour after the summer feast, the girls had once more found their way to the common room.
Demelza was grateful for the company. She felt restless after seeing Arris.
The way he had looked at her this evening …
there had been a charged quality to his gaze that sent an unnatural flutter through her heart.
“One more trial, and then I need not be parted from my beloved,” said Zoraya, sighing and curling her mug of tea close to her chest.
“How do you know you love him?” asked Demelza.
All of them—except Talvi, who was running unusually late—were seated around a low fire.
Edmea had just finished passing around the bowl of mashed dusk berries and a paintbrush.
Too tired to braid their hair, Zoraya had passed around an enchanted slip of purple fabric, which when placed upon one’s crown, gathered the hair into a snug knot at the top of one’s head.
Ursula sat beside Demelza eyeing the bowl of mashed dusk berries.
After a moment’s contemplation, she scooped it into her hands and into her mouth—
“That is not for eating!” scolded Edmea.
Ursula grinned sheepishly and handed the bowl to Zoraya. Zoraya frowned, still contemplating Demelza’s question.
“I mean … I suppose I just know?” she tried, but then she frowned. “I know I love him because he’s the prince and I was meant to marry a prince.”
“There’s more than one prince in the world,” said Cordelia.
“Yes, but I’m sure he’s the most handsome,” said Zoraya.
“Is he though?” asked Ursula.
“You don’t think he’s handsome?”
Ursula shrugged. “Not very drawn to beauty one way or the other. At least, not on a body. On a plate, though, that’s something else.
My mother always said the belly is where the heart is …
later I realized she meant this in a more literal way, since a wound to the abdomen is generally fatal, but she also said she knew she trusted my father when he gave her the last of his bread during a siege.
” Ursula’s voice softened. “He said that knowing she was nourished fulfilled him … that was how she knew she loved him.”
A hush fell over the room and then Zoraya sniffed loudly.
“I don’t think the prince feels that way about me,” she said. “Do you think he’d starve for me? Or cook for me?”
“A prince should not be cooking for anyone,” said Edmea.
He’s cooked for me, thought Demelza. She thought of how he had crept through her window, a baked loaf or a tin of sweets under his arm.
She remembered how he had noticed how hungry she was.
Although she didn’t have a window, the vine guardian had told her that Prince Arris had stood outside her room for the past few evenings.
She didn’t doubt for a moment that each time he visited, he brought some food with him.
Out of pity, she warned herself.
But there had been no pity in his eyes when he had looked at her tonight.
“It’s odd,” said Edmea, studying her reflection. “My mother always said I was meant to be a queen and I certainly look like one—”
“Here we go,” muttered Zoraya.
“—and I feel like one, but it is not the prince that makes me feel so…” said Edmea.
“And if he is not the one that inspires such a feeling, then, I suppose, what is the need for marrying a prince? I thought there’d be more parties and such, but Queen Yzara went on and on about social responsibilities, modeling virtue for the masses.
” Edmea made a face. “That sounds a bit unglamorous, doesn’t it? ”
“It sounds like an opportunity for greatness,” said Cordelia.
“My mother is always going on and on about greatness,” said Ursula.
“Is that why you wish to marry him?” asked Zoraya.
There was nothing shrewd or competitive in her voice, merely curiosity. She was sitting with her chin on her knee, arms wrapped about herself. The sitting room was as cozy as a nest.
“Something like that,” said Ursula. “I’ve always heard of the foods in the palace and I also wanted to make a point, I suppose. I thought I wanted to be away from home, but now I, well…”
“Miss it?” finished Cordelia.
Cordelia was not one for emotion, but before Cordelia had filled her chambers with water, Demelza had noticed that the one thing she had brought with her was a portrait of her family, which she kept beside her bed.
“Yes,” said Ursula. “I miss it.”
The girls were silent. This was it, Demelza realized. Sooner or later, the third trial would be upon them, and then what?
“Where in the world has Talvi gone?” demanded Edmea, annoyed. She patted her eyes. “I really need those ice patches or my skin looks less incandescent.”
As if summoned, Talvi burst into the mushroom tower. She looked out of breath. And there was an odd blush to her pale cheeks.
Edmea put her hands on her hips. She looked like a hen. “And where have you been? I was getting worried … plus we didn’t have any ice patches for our eyes!”
“It’s starting!” said Talvi, eyes wild. “The third trial! The test of power! It’s coming!”
All of them leaned forward.
“Power?”
“What kind—”
“I don’t know,” said Talvi, shaking her head. “It came upon us in the gardens, a thing of utter darkness … alive and angry—”
“Us?” asked Cordelia, raising an eyebrow. “Who were you with?”
Talvi was spared answering when the ground began to quake and tremble. A vase of flowers toppled over, shattering on the floor. The windows opened and in poured a writhing darkness—
THE THIRD TRIAL IS NOW UNDERWAY.
CORDELIA OF THE FAMISHING, YOU ARE FIRST.
THE REST OF YOU ARE TO REMAIN IN YOUR ROOMS UNTIL YOU ARE SUMMONED.
THE END BEGINS NOW.
This was the end.
There would be no more trials. No more gatherings. No more need for sleuthing. No more need for the prince to sneak into her rooms. No more need for her.
Demelza should have felt relieved. She could bungle the third trial and it wouldn’t matter. She wasn’t supposed to be a real candidate, but would trying really make her one? Would Arris want that? Would she?
Alone, Demelza felt the truth creep toward her and, at last, she forced herself to behold it.
When she thought of Arris, she felt wings stirring against her bones.
She felt as if her feet were lifting off the ground.
As if she were a being made of sunlight.
But the truth was that Arris had nothing to do with her desire to try in the third trial.
She was done diminishing herself … she wanted to dazzle.
If only to prove to no one but herself that she could.
Demelza slumped against the wall. At home, she had always imagined herself bravely charging into the unknown, seizing her tomorrows with both hands outstretched.
But in practice, navigating the unknown was exhausting.
It would be nice to receive a weekly map where moments of horrid heartache, flustered speech and spiky fear would be neatly scheduled so that she might prepare for them without feeling as though she were tumbling through the air with no promise of when the ground might reappear.
Was adulthood like this every day? Or was it just chaos every now and then?
With luck and years, Demelza hoped to find out for herself.
Still, it would be nice to sneak into the past and curl up in her old bed with her old worries and old grievances.
Though she had no wish to return to the way things were, Demelza had to admit …
“I miss home.”
Home, as it turned out, missed her too. All this time Hush Manor had been waiting for Demelza. It had been slinking around her waking hours, pressing itself to the sibling stones of Rathe Castle, pining and prowling like a needy cat. And, like any cat, it refused to make the first move.
But the moment it heard Demelza, Hush Manor made itself known.
Behind her, the stones trembled. She scrambled away just in time to see the wall’s opacity sheer to translucence.
The stones of Rathe Castle and Hush Manor might be estranged siblings, but they were family nonetheless and when one called, the other answered.