Chapter Twelve #3
I followed him back into the castle, past the glowering form of Enrique and down into the cellar. I’d never been this deep into the bowels of the castle before. It grew colder as we descended, a chill settling in the air.
‘The crypt is down that way, past the armoury,’ Raleigh said, pointing into the shadows. ‘If you ever feel inspired to meet the in-laws, you’ll find them in there.’
‘They’re not …’
‘Alive? Lord no, they died centuries ago.’
‘So did you.’
Raleigh laughed, the sound crisp against the ancient stone. ‘They’re more dead than I am. Now, don’t go in this next room. The lab is the next one along.’
‘What’s in that room?’ I asked, not actually expecting an answer.
‘It’s where I keep my blood stores.’
My stomach churned.
‘See, that’s why I told you not to go in. But if you need blood that isn’t mine for whatever reason, you’ll find it in there. Anyway, here we are.’
Raleigh ushered me into the laboratory. I didn’t know what I was looking at.
One long bench framed the nearest wall, littered with glass vials of all shapes and sizes that I suspected belonged on the empty shelves above it.
A dormant furnace waited in the far corner, and at the centre of the room was a large table that swallowed most of the remaining space, covered in a heaving sprawl of equipment I had no hope of identifying.
For all I knew it could have been wizardry.
‘Good, isn’t it?’
It was a cluttered nightmare. I dodged the question. ‘Why do you have all this?’
‘About a year after I left court I fancied that I might become a chemist.’ My ears pricked at his mention of the court, but Raleigh moved swiftly along.
‘I spent the best part of a year sourcing all the finest equipment, but once I had it all I did about two experiments and didn’t know where to go next.
Took up book collecting instead. You know how these things go. ’
I did not know how these things went. I lifted a beaker to the candlelight. It was nothing more than a fancy glass. ‘What does it all do?’
‘This and that,’ Raleigh said unhelpfully. ‘I can show you, if you like. I doubt either of us will have time to become master chemists before the end of the year, but I did manage to extract sugar from a grape once – maybe you can do the same with my blood.’
I doubted grapes and blood had any common properties, but I thanked him all the same. At least this was something, something that couldn’t be found in a book. And however small, it was a glimmer of hope.
Moira rang the bell for dinner shortly after that.
Normally nobody commented if I sidled into dinner wearing whatever dusty garment I’d spent the day in, but to my annoyance Raleigh insisted I change.
I thought he was standing on ceremony for Enrique until I found three new gowns laid out on my bed.
I would say they were each more beautiful than the last, but that would be unfair to the first I picked up.
They were all stunning, and probably worth more than all the clothes in Orlfen combined.
The spoils of Raleigh’s trip, I supposed.
I chose a rose-coloured one with a loose silhouette, which looked the simplest to put on by myself, and after only a moderate struggle I was once again struck by Raleigh’s excellent eye.
It fit perfectly, as my older gowns had before I’d started regaining weight.
I decided not to dwell on how closely he must have been studying me to notice that.
When I returned to the dining hall, Raleigh was already seated, arguing with Enrique, who had insisted on dishing food out for him, despite knowing he couldn’t eat.
‘I don’t care what we did at court, we’re in the middle of a famine. Either cook smaller portions or find someone else to eat it. Oh, Clara!’ He stood immediately as I entered, grinning at the sight of me in the new gown. ‘Do you like it?’
A week ago I would have thought he was mocking me. Now I realised he was just over-earnest and eager to please. I spun once, showing off the gown from all sides. ‘It’s beautiful.’
‘A dress is nothing without the wearer,’ Raleigh said as I took my seat.
I rolled my eyes at him. That was when I noticed Moira standing in the far doorway with her hands full of mail, mouth half open. ‘I mean this in the nicest way possible,’ she said as she approached, ‘but what the hell happened in Orlfen?’
‘Clara chose me over the baker’s boy,’ Raleigh said happily.
I ducked my head so they couldn’t see me flush. ‘He’s oversimplifying it.’
‘Of course, you’re always right. I also got shot.’
Moira pinched the bridge of her nose. ‘Actually I know enough.’ She threw the letters onto the table, much to the obvious horror of Enrique, who clearly had preconceived notions of how a formal dinner was supposed to go, which didn’t involve throwing post at the reigning prince.
‘You had mail while you were away,’ she said.
Raleigh inspected the first seal without interest, then tossed it unopened back onto the table. ‘Burn that one.’ He picked up the second, then the third, then flinched away from the table as though they were the ones burning him. ‘Just burn them all.’
‘No. Look at them. You were gone a week and she sent, what, twelve letters? You can’t ignore her forever.’
‘No, but I can until December.’
‘Does his highness have a jilted ex-lover?’ Enrique drawled.
‘Something like that,’ Raleigh said bitterly as Enrique picked up one of the letters. He turned it over, saw the seal clotted on the back, and threw the letter back onto the table as if scalded.
‘You want to burn letters from the Queen?’
Raleigh slammed both hands against the table.
‘Someone get rid of this food and bring me something I can actually drink.’ He scooped up the letters himself, crossed to the fireplace and threw the entire stack in, watching as the paper curled and blackened, his face cast in shadow. The crimson wax dripped into the grate.
The sight triggered something in my memory. These weren’t the first letters he’d burnt. I knew the true fate of my lost letters now; the wax remnants I’d found hadn’t been from them. This queen had written before.
‘Would someone care to explain?’ I asked.
Moira gave me a warning look, but Raleigh answered regardless.
‘The Queen would like me to come back to court.’ Raleigh’s words dripped with poison. ‘I shan’t be returning before January. There’s nothing else to say.’
‘I assume you don’t mean the emperor’s wife.’
‘You’d assume correctly.’ Raleigh returned to his seat, ran his hands through his hair, then seemed to shift into someone else altogether.
His smile returned, the past forgotten, buried under layers upon layers of masks.
‘You don’t need to worry yourself about all of that.
Let’s see what Enrique cooked up for you, shall we? ’
I wondered, not for the first time, what I would find if I pulled back Raleigh’s defences.
What lingered under his facade that he was so afraid of revealing?
What exactly did he leave behind him at court?
But there was no scope to ask. Raleigh was looking at me expectantly, and I didn’t doubt that his cheery demeanour would slip if I dared ask the wrong question.
I lifted the cloche, expecting a new variety of stew, only to find a roasted duck breast drizzled in a light but aromatic sauce, served with finely cut potatoes.
There was also bread, gooey cheese, salad and some sort of white gelatinous dessert floating in custard.
It was the sort of meal I’d dreamed of for a decade.
I glanced at Raleigh, who had tensed. ‘Please don’t tell me how many people in Orlfen this would feed.’
‘Actually …’ I selected one of the many forks Enrique had laid out, hoping it was the right one.
‘Orlfen seems to be doing fine.’ I took a bite, then ascended to a new plane of existence.
The sauce was the perfect balance of tart and sweet, and the meat practically melted in my mouth.
Was this how infants felt when they sampled food for the first time?
I couldn’t believe anything could taste like this.
‘Good?’ Raleigh asked.
I had no words. I realised I was smiling.
On seeing my reaction Moira spun on her heels and ran after Enrique, no doubt to stop him from disposing of Raleigh’s leftover portion.
‘Sorry.’ I prepared another forkful. ‘I may have to elope with Enrique instead.’
Raleigh clutched his heart.
It was the first meal I’d shared with Raleigh that didn’t feel like a creative form of torture, even after Enrique returned with a goblet of blood.
Raleigh’s company was surprisingly tolerable when he was able to make conversation.
If I couldn’t uphold my end of our deal, the prospect of eternal night still loomed with suffocating certainty.
But to my mild horror I realised that if the worst should happen, there were worse people to be stuck spending eternity with.
And as we ate and tore down the walls built by weeks of dreary silence, the Queen’s unread letters dissolved into ash.