Interlude
Queen Celandine stared at the empty room and then down at the key in her hand. What she was seeing was utterly impossible.
Gwendolyn couldn’t have escaped. Only the queen herself had the key for this room. And, if Gwendolyn had somehow tampered with the door, she would have at least left some evidence behind. But the door had been whole and locked when the queen arrived moments before.
She had prepared the remote room years ago, thinking it would be needed. But Gwendolyn had proven more biddable than she could have dreamed. Until now, when the girl had suddenly developed a new defiant streak, only to then vanish in a way that shouldn’t have been possible.
A slight creak caught the queen’s ear, and her eyes narrowed. Striding across the room, she pushed against one of the windows. It swung open.
Celandine sucked in a breath. The girl had gone out the window. The wind must have pushed it closed again afterward, but it had failed to completely latch.
She leaned out, peering downward with an unfamiliar spike of fear. If the pathetic girl had managed to get herself killed, all of Celandine’s plans would be for nothing.
But no crumpled body lay on the ground beneath the tower. The queen’s gaze moved across the western palace grounds, but no sign of movement caught her eye. She drew back inside and clicked the window shut, scowling.
Soon she would need to return and resume a mask of calm indifference. She had already told the court the princess was recovering from an illness, so nothing needed to change immediately. But she had to get her back, and quietly.
If only that fool of a count hadn’t rushed matters. She ground her teeth as she slowly descended the flights of stairs that wound down from the tower.
When she had been pushed into declaring that only a royal prince was a suitable groom to marry the princess and lift the curse, she hadn’t expected her courtiers to actually produce one. The enchantment wouldn’t allow them to travel further than the valleys. What had the fool boy been doing there?
But it was the defiance of the action that made her seethe more than anything. After all these years, they thought they could push her?
She drew in a calming breath. Anger would get her nowhere. She had felt enough anger to drown a ship or level a village in the years she had spent in her father’s home. And after she had found refuge—thinking herself safe with one more powerful than her father—she had felt its fire again. That second betrayal had been even worse than the one by her blood parent.
But all that impotent fury had won her nothing. It had been worse than useless, in fact, since it had blinded her to the valuable lessons to be learned. She could not trust to the power of others to save her. That power only enabled them to treat her as they wished.
When she set aside emotion for clear thinking and cold revenge, the answer was obvious. She had to seize her own power. She had to rise so high that no one could ever stomp on her again.
It had taken planning and effort, but she had succeeded. And those who had once made free use of their fists had been forced to kneel at her feet and pay homage.
Remembering that moment usually calmed and stabilized her, but now it only brought back the hated wave of anger. She returned to her breathing exercises, trying to drive back the emotions. She couldn’t afford to crack now.
She pressed a hand to her head. Was it never to be enough? She had become queen—had ruled with a tight rein for twenty years. There should be no one with the power to assail her.
And yet…
She clenched her teeth. The breathing was no longer working. The court thought they could manipulate her, control her. They thought they could free themselves of the bindings she’d used to ensure their loyalty after that boy had questioned her rule.
She glanced back up the stairs, feeling the cracks in her wall widen. How dare that child flee from her! It was impossible. Unthinkable.
Had someone told her? Celandine stilled mid-step. But after a moment she shook her head and resumed her descent. After what had happened to the boy, no one in the court would be so foolhardy. It had been ten years, and no one had dared.
Princess Gwendolyn still believed Celandine to be her real mother. She must. Given the girl’s earlier tantrum, she would have thrown that in the queen’s face as well if she had known.
Some of her secrets were still safe.
But her hold on power was slipping. She had kept it secure all these years with the promise that everything would change once Gwendolyn was on the throne in her place. If they discovered the princess was gone, what would they do?
No. She couldn’t be gone. Even if she had managed to climb down the wall, she couldn’t have gone far. Celandine would find her.
She stalked through the corridors, and her expression was enough to send anyone she encountered hurrying in another direction.
The guard at the entrance to her wing bowed deeply, avoiding eye contact. He was frightened too.
Yes. She drank it in, reveling in the reminder that her power hadn’t cracked yet.
Inside her chamber, she flung open the curtains, pausing to check the portrait behind. It had changed yet again. The girl in gold was now turned toward the bear, her arms wrapped around his neck.
Hours before, Celandine would have been pleased. Soon she would have the prince caught in her snare. Her courtiers had thought to force her hand, but they didn’t understand who they were dealing with. The queen had already turned their empty scheming to her own advantage. They thought the wedding would be their moment of freedom, but it was only the beginning.
She had thought the power she had amassed sufficient, but from the moment the count made his move, she knew it wasn’t so.
She pulled on the lever and let the portrait swing open, stepping through. As always, the hidden room calmed any lingering unease.
Her people had no idea of the power she had stored here—power she could use to gain even more. When they had seen her level the mountains, when she was seated as empress on a throne that spanned kingdoms, she would finally have climbed too high for anyone to touch her ever again.
She would be safe.
But for now, she needed to find the princess—the girl was still a tool she would need in her stepping stones of conquest. One of these objects would surely help her locate the runaway.
Her eyes flicked between the plinths until they came to rest on one holding a tiny golden whip. She sucked in a breath, her cheeks growing pale.
Instantly she could recall the earlier scene and the place where the princess had been standing. Gwendolyn had taken the golden halter. She had brazenly picked it up and walked out under the queen’s nose.
The earlier storm of fury was nothing to the tidal wave bearing down on her now. How dared that girl enter Celandine’s innermost sanctuary and steal from her! The queen had offered her grace when she had found her here, and the girl had laughed in her face.
But the wave bearing down on her could sweep away everything she had built. Celandine strode over to another object and placed her hand on it. Instantly the overwhelming and unwanted emotions disappeared, leaving stillness in their wake. The empty bliss of nothingness.
The queen drew a steady breath and assumed a serene smile. This had been her first object, the one that was the foundation of everything. Without her emotions, she was truly free. Without them, she could manage the cold calculation needed to ensure no one ever threatened her again.
The situation wasn’t lost yet. The selfish girl had taken the halter and would no doubt be gone from the mountains already. She was probably in the middle of savoring her victory. But she had been more foolish than she realized.
She had left the whip.