27. Gwen
“You look like you could use an apple.” The kind tones of an older woman interrupted Gwen’s despair.
She blinked, wiping away the lingering traces of tears, and scrambled to her feet. The old woman gestured for her to sit again and then sat beside her.
She held out a yellow apple, indicating for Gwen to take it.
Gwen wasn’t hungry. Her stomach couldn’t possibly take any food given her emotional turmoil, but she didn’t want to be rude, so she accepted the fruit anyway.
Only once it was in her hand did she actually look at it properly and realize it wasn’t yellow but gold. Actual gold. The metal. It wasn’t a fruit at all but a valuable, and amazingly light, treasure.
She looked up. “I can’t possibly take this!”
“Whyever not? You need it more than I do. And you never know when it might come in handy. Put it away now, there’s a dear.”
Gwen blinked, reminded strongly of the affectionate but iron-willed nature of her old nanny. One glance in the woman’s eyes told her there was no point arguing.
Bemused, she tucked the golden apple away in a pocket as instructed. The woman gave an approving nod and gazed out over the ocean.
“The castle east of the sun and west of the moon isn’t an easy target,” she said. “But I think you know that better than most.”
Gwen stared at her. She had read that princesses always had godmothers, and she had often wondered if she had one too. She suspected she had just found her.
The apple in her pocket grew heavier as she considered it in a new light.
“That place has already taken more from you than you should have had to give,” the godmother continued. “Do you want to be finished with it now? Do you want to walk away?”
She said the words with a look of such sympathy that Gwen nearly started crying again.
“Well?” the godmother asked when Gwen didn’t answer. “If I told you that you were free to walk away right now—that I would find someone else to take your place—would you choose to do it?”
“Someone else?” Gwen asked. “Someone better suited for the role?”
The silver-haired woman shrugged. “They might be. Or maybe they would be worse. That isn’t something I could say in advance. It would depend on both your decisions and theirs.”
Gwen rubbed at her head. She wasn’t sure if it was a real option being offered her or just a theoretical exercise, but it was incredibly tempting. She longed to let go of the guilt and walk away from everything.
But could she leave the guilt behind? Who else could fill her role? Who else knew her mother and all the corners of their palace? Who else was known to every member of the mountain kingdom as their heir? Gwen might be a poor heir, but she was the only one they had ever had. Would they accept someone else?
It was all too easy to think of some brave soul facing Queen Celandine, underestimating her, and being struck down. Gwen didn’t know if she could ever defeat her mother, but she didn’t know anyone else who could either.
How could she hand over something like that and walk away?
“No,” she said at last, the word heavy. “I wouldn’t.”
The godmother smiled as if unsurprised at her choice, although it had surprised Gwen.
“See, you aren’t weak,” the woman said. “You’re just still in the process of finding your strength—and learning who else’s strength you can rely on.”
“I turned my back and rode away from them all,” Gwen whispered.
“So?” the godmother said. “Are you going to ride back?”
“Yes.” Again Gwen was surprised by her own answer, this time by its strength and speed.
“In that case,” the godmother said, “you didn’t truly abandon them.”
She sighed, patting Gwen’s hand. “In the past you chose weakness because you thought you were weak. But that isn’t your fault. You were a child, and the person who should have protected you instead told you every day that you were weak. But now you are a woman, and you have a choice. You can choose to continue believing those words, or you can choose to reject them and believe the words of others instead. If you believe you’re capable of standing up to the queen, then you can begin to find the strength to do so.”
“Do you truly think that?” Gwen asked.
The godmother raised an eyebrow. “Haven’t you been listening? The relevant question is whether you believe it. You let the queen tell you who you are. Are you ready to listen to the people who love you instead?”
Gwen swallowed, thinking of what Easton had just said to her. Did she want to hear what others thought of her? Was there anyone who loved her?
“The High King didn’t make you princess of the mountain kingdom by mistake,” the godmother said. “You matter to him, and you matter to others.”
“Why did he give them Queen Celandine as their queen?” Gwen asked, struggling to completely let go of her bitterness.
“Who said he did?” the godmother asked sharply.
Gwen looked at her with a frown. What was that supposed to mean? How could the High King have made her their princess and yet have had no hand in her mother being queen?
“I can think of one person who might have something to say about who you are and your value,” the godmother said with a sudden chuckle. “I think a certain young man is on his way here, bitterly regretting his hasty words.” She nodded in the direction Gwen had come, and Gwen caught a glimpse of a familiar figure. Easton was hurrying toward her, his expression intent.
She turned back to question the godmother on what she had meant about her mother, but the rock beside her was empty. She blinked at it for a moment, but the woman was definitely gone.
Climbing slowly to her feet, she considered what her godmother had said as she waited for Easton. Could she believe she had been chosen? Could she believe she was worthy even after all the mistakes she’d made?
A wave of something that felt more like peace than guilt washed over her, settling deep into her bones. The godmother had said it was up to her to choose whose words she would believe about herself. That meant she could choose this peace. And she could choose to let go of the mountain queen’s poison. She could break the walls that closed her in and refuse to ever build them back into place.
“Gwen!” Easton reached her, seizing both her hands and looking into her eyes with frantic worry. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s all right.” Gwen felt a smile stretch across her face. “Everything you said was true, at least in part. I did run away, but I haven’t abandoned them. I realized that while I was sitting out here. I’m going back to free them all. I have to.”
She tipped her face up to him, her smile growing. “You’re right about the ocean. It’s helpful for thinking—and breaking down restraints.”
Easton sucked in a breath, his eyes still intent on her face. “You shouldn’t forgive me so easily,” he whispered. “It only makes me feel worse. I know what you went through in your childhood, but I can only imagine how alone you must have been in the last ten years. I’ve been living a free life, but you’ve been under her thumb every moment, trapped in her enchantment, her castle, and her control. And yet, you managed to free yourself! You held onto who you are through it all. You’re brave and resilient and incredible, and yet the first thing I did was berate you! You should tell me you never want to see me again. I deserve it.”
Gwen’s eyes had grown misty as he spoke, but her smile returned at the end of his speech.
“Should I?” she asked playfully.
He looked down at her, his gaze changing as his eyes darkened with an entirely new emotion.
“No,” he said thickly. “You shouldn’t. You should let me do this.”
He pressed his lips down on hers, pulling her into his arms and kissing her as thoroughly as she had always dreamed he one day would.
“I don’t think I can steer this time.” Charlotte gazed uncertainly at the halter resting in Gwen’s palm. “I know I did it last time, but that was a simple matter of getting us back to land. I don’t know the way to the mountain kingdom.”
Gwen glanced at Easton, a question in her eyes. He just smiled back at her, the warmth in his gaze making her flush while his trust in her ability buoyed her up.
She was the one who had fled the mountain palace. She was their princess. It was her job to lead them back.
“I wish we could take more than three of us,” she said mournfully, remembering Easton’s talk of allies. “But we could never get an army across the mountains. This will have to be done through stealth, not force of arms. It will be dangerous.”
Charlotte propped her hands on her hips. “You should know by now that you’re not talking either of us out of it. And while I can’t speak for Easton—who looks like he’d follow you wherever you go—I’m not going to the mountain kingdom for you, remember.”
Gwen nodded, her flush deepening at her friend’s mention of Easton’s devotion. He didn’t follow her around, but he had waited for her, and that was more than enough.
“It’s time to go home,” he said softly, capturing her eyes.
She nodded back. It was time.
“But do we really have to jump off this bluff?” he asked, eyeing the fall to the sea below.
Charlotte snorted. “Think of it as an opportunity to impress your lady love with your courage.”
Easton grinned at her. “What if I don’t have any?”
Gwen rolled her eyes, grasped both of their arms and pulled them all off the cliff.
Easton gasped and Charlotte screamed, but it seemed to be a scream of delight more than fear. The halter in Gwen’s hand grew, the reins appearing in her curled fingers.
She looked back over her shoulder to see the other two lined up behind her. She noticed with smug pleasure that the object had placed Easton behind her. His arms immediately wrapped around her waist, securing them both in position.
“Why am I at the back?” Charlotte complained, and Gwen smiled again. She knew the excitement underlying her friend’s words. She was finally on her way to the kingdom where her husband could be found.
They soared high over Ranost, heading for the mountains. But as soon as they hit them, the wind began to fight her.
Her first instinct was to pull against it, as she had before, trying to compensate for its lurching, jerking motions. But she forced herself not to respond on instinct.
Charlotte had shown her the way, and she would need every bit of her strength and concentration to lead them through the more difficult path through the mountains.
She had wanted to follow a low-lying valley to their right, but the wind pulled them left. She scanned the landscape in that direction, comparing it to the maps she had often studied in the palace library. They hadn’t included the trails through the mountains, but they had shown the locations of the landscape itself. And from the air, the ground below her looked almost like a map, stretched out for her perusal.
She spotted a crevice that opened into a deep valley. Leaning into the wind’s leftward motion, she sailed them into the dark gash in the mountain face. As she had expected, it opened into a valley, the high walls forcing the wind to flow down its length and giving her a chance to breathe.
But all too quickly they reached the end of it, and the wind jerked them wildly again, trying to send them spinning uncontrollably toward the ground. She let it take them downward, waiting until they caught the inevitable cross breeze that flowed along mountain canyons. As soon as it nudged their direction, she leaned into it, pulling upward again until they soared over the first peak.
Charlotte called triumphantly from somewhere behind her, but Gwen didn’t respond. Every ounce of her concentration was needed in the life and death wrestle she was undertaking.
And it wasn’t only her life at stake. She carried Easton and Charlotte with her, and a whole kingdom depended on them. She would not fail this first challenge.
Valley by valley, crevice by crevice, and peak by peak, she led them through the maze of the mountains, fighting the wind every step of the way. Sweat dripped down her hairline, and she might have slipped from her perch on their wind mount if Easton’s arms hadn’t held her securely in place.
Exhaustion began to creep in, and she was nearly out of strength when she finally spotted a final, familiar mountain.
“It’s over that one,” she cried, forgetting all her restraint and yanking the reins in the direction she wanted to go.
But she wasn’t the only one who had grown weary. The wind tried to buck, but the movement was light. It wasn’t fighting her anymore but losing force entirely. For one breathless moment, Gwen thought it wouldn’t make it over the peak.
Then they were past, and it was sinking down the other side. But it didn’t matter. They wanted to descend anyway.
She guided it in as accurately as she could, acutely aware that her mother had just battled her through the mountain range and must therefore know of her return. Gwen could only hope the queen was unable to pinpoint the exact location of their dismount.
She aimed for the edge of the city, where they could quickly lose themselves in the streets. As soon as their feet hit the ground, she pushed the miniature halter into her pocket and led the others forward. They both seemed to have realized the danger because they followed her without question.
But once they reached the first intersection, Gwen stopped. She might have spent her whole life in the mountain kingdom, but she didn’t know the city at all.
“Psst!” The hissed whisper caught the attention of all three, but only Gwen recognized the girl gesturing urgently for them to join her. It was the fourteen-year-old who had snuck into the palace to complain about the taxes.
She led the others to where the girl was lurking behind a building.
“Are you talking to us?” Gwen asked.
She nodded. “Who else would I be hissing at? I came to get you.”
Gwen stared at her in astonishment. “How did you know we were here?”
The girl gave her a scornful look. “You do know you flew into the city, right? I’ve been watching for you so I could hardly miss that.”
“You’ve been watching for me?” Gwen asked, her astonishment growing. “But why?”
“Because they told me to, of course,” the girl said impatiently. “Now hurry. We need to get off the streets.”
The others looked at Gwen, and she shrugged. They had to find a place to hide, and she would as soon trust this girl whose name she didn’t know as anyone else in the kingdom, except perhaps Alma or Miriam.
But as they followed her down a series of dark streets and alleys and finally into a dirty basement, she couldn’t resist asking.
“But who told you to watch for me?”
The girl shrugged. “He did, of course. And the others. Everyone who opposes the queen and has been waiting for your return.”
Gwen stared at her in even greater astonishment. “There are people waiting for my return?”
“Of course,” the girl said. “You’re our princess. Who else is going to stop her?”
“She’s been growing more and more unstable since your departure, Your Highness,” said a new voice from the depths of the basement. “She’s becoming dangerous on a whole new level. And since the prince returned, she’s only gotten worse.”
Charlotte pushed herself forward, her face alight. “He’s here? Henry’s here? Is he in the palace? You’re sure he’s still alive?”
The man stared at Charlotte, clearly unsure what to make of her intensity. Gwen felt almost as off balance as the man appeared to be, but somehow hearing the way they talked about her—the certainty in their voices when they talked of her return—made her feel like she could be the strong person they imagined.
“Allow me to make some introductions,” she said. “You’ll know Easton already.”
Easton nodded respectfully, and the man started. Apparently he hadn’t recognized him.
“Your parents will be very glad to hear of your safe return,” he said, making Easton smile.
Gwen gestured next toward Charlotte. “And this is Princess Charlotte, Prince Henry’s wife.”
“His wife?” The man’s eyebrows rose toward his hairline. “That is likely to cause some problems, considering our plan to marry the prince to you, Princess Gwendolyn.”
Easton growled quietly, the sound so low only Gwen heard it. She placed a gentle hand on his wrist and smiled at him. He had to know she was past the point of allowing anyone to bully her into marrying Prince Henry.
“And this,” she said finally, gesturing at the man, “is Count Oswin—who is, apparently, not my mother’s most trusted advisor after all. I think, together, we might be the heart of the resistance.”