Chapter 8 Rose
Rose woke with a smile on her face, dreams of Shen still dancing in her head. She hoped she would see him again soon. And when she did, perhaps they would finally seize their courage and figure out a way to be together. She couldn’t bear any more goodbyes.
But, goodness. How on earth did one navigate such a thing? Did Rose need to send out a proclamation that her heart was taken? Or should she forsake love for duty and continue to entertain foreign suitors in pursuit of bettering Eana’s relations with other countries?
Hmm. Of course, there was still Wren’s romantic prospects to consider …
The thought of Wren marrying strategically made Rose snort. No, Wren had made it clear she would not even contemplate an arranged marriage, no matter the suitor. Whenever Chapman dared to broach the topic, Wren reminded everyone of poor Prince Ansel. A cautionary tale indeed.
Thinking of Ansel always made Rose’s heart ache. Even though she hadn’t wanted to marry King Alarik’s younger brother, she desperately wished he had lived to find his own happiness. At least he was at rest now. In the end, with the help of her healing magic, she had been able to grant him the peace he deserved.
A shiver rippled down Rose’s spine as she sat up in bed. She didn’t like to think about what had happened in Gevra all those months ago. About the blood spell her sister had attempted. About Oonagh.
Rose supposed she should be grateful that her undead ancestor was far away across the Sunless Sea, but deep down, she had a prickling feeling that Oonagh wouldn’t stay hidden forever.
Rose clambered out of bed and threw open the curtains, suddenly desperate to see the sun. Morning light flooded her bedroom, washing away her worries. She stood in its warmth and reminded herself that there was no point in fretting about the unknown. But even so, her gaze flitted to the orchards, and she frowned. She made a note to herself to ask the gardeners if they had noticed anything strange about the fruit recently.
A knock at the door made her jolt.
‘Rose?’ called Celeste. ‘Are you awake?’
Rose hurried to open it, beaming at the sight of her oldest and dearest friend. Celeste was dressed in a violet day dress, her black curls piled high on top of her head. ‘You’re looking surprisingly fresh this morning,’ said Rose. ‘As I recall, you were still dancing with Grandmother Lu when Wren and I left the festival.’
Celeste stepped into the room and closed the door behind her.
‘Don’t be fooled,’ she said, wearily. ‘I’ve barely slept.’
‘You must tell me all about your night,’ said Rose, pulling Celeste over to the window seat. ‘Have you had breakfast yet? I was about to call down for bread with jam and honey …’ She trailed off at the sight of Celeste’s sombre expression. ‘Oh dear. What is it?’
Celeste took Rose’s hands in her own. ‘I need to talk to you.’
Rose’s mouth went dry. ‘Is it about Wren?’
‘No,’ said Celeste, quickly. ‘I had a vision last night.’
‘Of what?’ said Rose, a touch too shrilly. But Celeste’s words and the haunted look in her eyes had set her on edge. First the tree had gone up in smoke, then Wren had disappeared into the forest and now this – a vision from Celeste. Rose’s stomach clenched with worry.
‘I think it was your ancestor,’ said Celeste, worsening the knot in Rose’s stomach. ‘At first, I thought it was you. Then Wren. But this other woman … Her gaze is hollow. And her smile … it’s cruel.’
‘Oonagh?’ Even uttering the name cast goosebumps across Rose’s arms. ‘Are you sure?’ she said, trying to will it away. If she didn’t accept this vision Celeste was bringing to light, perhaps it would never happen.
‘I’m not sure of anything,’ said Celeste, more to herself than to Rose. ‘But I know she’s not of this world. Of this time. And last night, when I glimpsed her, she was surrounded by …’ She frowned, as though she was still trying to make sense of it. ‘Dead animals.’ She shuddered, then corrected herself. ‘Only they weren’t all the way dead.
Bile pooled in Rose’s throat. ‘I don’t understand,’ she said, weakly. ‘How can something be dead and not dead?’
Celeste’s gaze darted. ‘Like how Ansel was,’ she whispered. ‘Her hands …’ Celeste closed her eyes, a dent appearing between her brows. ‘They were crusted with blood. As if she had been soaking them in it. And she was laughing, Rose. I’ve never heard such an awful sound. For a moment, I swear it felt as if … as if …’
‘What?’ Rose held her breath without meaning to.
Celeste’s eyes flew open. ‘As if she’s getting closer, Rose. Too close.’
Rose leaped to her feet. ‘We need to tell Wren.’
Celeste pulled her back. ‘Wait.’
‘For what?’ said Rose, impatiently.
‘There’s something off with Wren. I can’t put my finger on it, but lately I feel as if she’s been hiding something.’
Rose let out an impatient snort. ‘Like what? Our undead ancestor?’
‘I don’t know. Maybe.’
‘Oh, Celeste!’ Rose almost laughed. ‘Don’t be so ridiculous. You’ve never fully trusted Wren, that’s all.’
Celeste glowered at her. ‘I’m not being ridiculous. I’m being wary. And you should be, too. I understand Wren is your sister but we both know she hasn’t always been the most forthright.’
‘I trust Wren completely,’ said Rose, firmly. She needed to trust Wren. If she couldn’t trust her own sister, then who could she trust? And Wren had told her everything that had happened in Gevra. Hadn’t she? It was the stress of it all – the loss of Banba and the battle that had followed – which was causing Wren to act strangely these past few months. That was all.
‘Just because you want something to be a certain way doesn’t mean you can make it happen by sheer force of will,’ said Celeste, pointedly.
‘I can certainly try,’ said Rose.
Celeste laughed uneasily. ‘Well, I suppose if anyone can, you can.’
Rose smiled at her friend. ‘We can trust Wren, Celeste. In fact, I’d wager my life on it.’
Celeste sighed. ‘I wish you wouldn’t.’
‘Now,’ said Rose, as if she hadn’t heard her. ‘What shall we have for breakfast?’
After breakfast, Rose met with Chapman in the throne room to discuss the day’s agenda. She yawned as she pored over the stack of papers the steward had prepared for her, only brightening when she saw that one of the items was to be the establishment of new schoolhouses throughout Eana.
Rose and Wren both felt that while displays of magic was certainly one way to win over the people of Eana, the best approach was for the children to learn about magic and where it came from. That way, they wouldn’t grow up to fear it.
‘Fetch me a map,’ said Rose to Chapman. ‘We can decide where the new schoolhouses should be and allocate funding accordingly.’
Chapman sighed. ‘Your Majesty, that particular topic is fourth on today’s agenda. We have much to discuss before that.’
‘Chapman, I am the queen,’ Rose reminded him, impatiently. ‘I am not beholden to any agenda. I may skip to whatever items I like.’
Chapman cleared his throat. ‘But, Your Majesty, we first need to go over the finances. Only then can we know how much coin we have to allocate. To do that, we must meet with the keeper of the treasury, and they aren’t arriving until noon.’ He huffed a sigh. ‘And before that, we must discuss the trade requests from neighbouring nations so we know what kind of position we are in when we meet with the keeper of the treasury.’
Rose rubbed her temples, wondering when her wayward sister would show her face. Wren had an uncanny ability for wriggling her way out of meetings. ‘Very well. We’ll save the map for later.’ She took a large sip of coffee, grateful it was still hot. ‘Shall we go through the recent trade requests? Now that magic is being celebrated in Eana, it’s pleasing to see more interest in our kingdom.’
‘Indeed,’ said Chapman, with no small amount of satisfaction. ‘While magic isn’t something that can be traded, our neighbours are certainly eager to remain on the good side of a country that can now control the wind, among other things.’
Rose gave him a sly smile. ‘I never imagined our tempests would be the ones who impressed you the most, Chapman.’
The steward chuckled. ‘You forget I encounter Rowena every day. Her temper is a mighty thing to behold. And the storms she brews even more so.’
Rose laughed. ‘Chapman, do you fancy Rowena?’
Chapman flushed. ‘Certainly not! But one cannot deny that she is very noticeable.’ His moustache twitched, giving him away, but he ploughed on determinedly. ‘Now. Speaking of trade requests, and erm … fancying people …’
Rose smiled. ‘Yes?’
‘Well, Caro has sent an ambassador to discuss their most recent trade request.’
‘And you fancy the ambassador?’
Chapman’s blush deepened. ‘No, no, no, Your Majesty. Nothing of the sort!’ He cleared his throat. ‘Well, what I mean is, it doesn’t concern me, and he isn’t strictly an ambassador, or, well, I suppose he insists he is, but the trouble is, he’s also, well, hmm—’
‘Chapman, I’ve never known you to be so muddled with your words,’ said Rose, with mounting exasperation. ‘Please speak some sense.’
There came a sudden, loud trumpeting from outside the throne room.
Chapman glanced at his pocket watch. ‘Oh dear. He’s early. But I suppose that’s a good sign.’ He was beginning to sweat. ‘Better early than late.’
‘Really, Chapman. What are you blundering on about? And where is that infernal trumpeting coming from?’ Rose flinched at the racket. ‘Has Wren secretly planned another concert I don’t know about?’
‘Your Majesty, now please remember, I only want the best for you. And for this country, of course.’ Chapman stood up and offered his arm. ‘If I may escort you to the balcony?’
‘The balcony?’ Rose blinked in confusion. ‘Whatever for? I thought we were on a schedule.’
‘This is part of the schedule.’ He tried to smile but his moustache trembled, and Rose had the sudden sense that the steward was nervous. ‘It will all make sense shortly.’
She stood, shaking out her skirts. ‘I certainly hope so.’
Chapman led her to the balcony, where not long ago, Rose and Wren had stood after their coronation, waving to their adoring subjects. As Chapman opened the doors, the trumpeting grew louder. Beneath the thunderous melody, Rose heard the braying of horses.
What on earth … ?
She strode out into the sunlight, shielding her eyes as she tried to see where the commotion was coming from. She took one look over the balustrade and gasped.
She whirled to face Chapman. ‘Pray tell why the crown prince of Caro is standing in my garden, surrounded by a dozen horses, six minstrels, two very large trunks and what looks to be an entire forest of olive trees?’
Chapman gulped. ‘He must have heard what happened to the olive tree his mother sent,’ he said. Queen Eliziana’s coronation gift had gone up in flames during one of the Arrows’ early attacks.
‘And how do you explain everything else?’ Rose hissed, before risking another glance over the balustrade. ‘The horses are dancing!’
All at once, the trumpeting stopped.
‘At least now I can hear myself think,’ said Rose, but then she heard the strumming of a lute. Her eyes went wide.
Somewhere down below, the prince of Caro began to sing.
Rose could not resist returning to the balustrade to watch the spectacle unfold. The prince had thick dark hair cut into the typical Caro style – a heavy fringe and long sides that ended bluntly at his jawline. He was wearing a magnificent red cape that billowed out behind him. His trousers were red, too, his pristine white shirt sporting a rather enormous collar.
Rose noted a ring on every finger, each with a gemstone that glittered in the sunlight. She felt as if they were winking at her.
The prince’s song drifted up to the balustrade, his dark unblinking gaze never once leaving her face.
‘Queen Rose, your beauty is known by all,
Queen Rose, I cannot resist your call,
With magic in your fingertips, and goodness in your heart,
I hope that today will be the start …’
He broke off into a lengthy finger solo, before finishing with gusto:
‘Of something new! Between me and youuuuu!’
‘Is he … serenading me?’ whispered Rose in astonishment. ‘I don’t even remember his name. We met once as children, a long time ago.’
‘His name is Prince Felix,’ Chapman whispered back. ‘I did mention you enjoyed romantic gestures, but I wasn’t expecting something quite so … grand.’
‘And why exactly have you been in contact with the crown prince of Caro, Chapman?’ said Rose, through a clenched smile. Underneath his regalia, the warbling prince was quite handsome, she had to admit, even while strumming a tiny lute and singing a ridiculous song. ‘Surely those are conversations I should have been involved in.’
‘I never spoke to Prince Felix directly!’ said Chapman, hurriedly mounting his defence. ‘I only mentioned the possibility of a love match to his advisor, Andrea, in my letters. See. She’s that one there, over by the horses.’
‘Ah yes,’ said Rose, spotting the petite dark-haired woman. ‘I didn’t notice her standing behind the TWELVE DANCING HORSES in my garden!’
Prince Felix was still happily crooning away, and showing no sign of stopping.
‘He does have a nice voice,’ Chapman said, meekly.
‘Thank the stars for that small mercy,’ said Rose. ‘I suppose we should invite him in. I can only hope you told Cam about our surprise guest so the cooks are at least prepared to make a lunch suitable for visiting royalty.’
She could tell by the look of abject horror on Chapman’s face that he had done no such thing.
Rose sighed. ‘Oh, Chapman.’
Several hours later, Rose sat across from Prince Felix in the royal dining room. Thea sat beside him, while Wren occupied the chair next to Rose, looking more out of sorts than usual. Rose didn’t miss the way she wrung her hands on her lap, or how her gaze kept flitting to the door as though she wanted to bolt through it.
‘I need to talk to you,’ Wren hissed, once they had sat down to eat, but Rose had gently hushed her.
‘After dinner. We have a guest.’
Thankfully, Cam had risen to the occasion, preparing a spectacular feast of two whole red snappers cooked in Caro spices and served on a bed of tomatoes and peppers, accompanied by lightly fried potatoes and charred asparagus. As she ate, Rose felt as if the eye of the fish was watching her. She avoided looking at it and instead smiled at the prince.
‘You are most welcome to Eana, Prince Felix. It is our pleasure to host you.’
‘The pleasure is mine,’ said Prince Felix, in a lilting Caro accent. ‘I have long wanted to return to your breathtaking country, which is graced with the most beautiful people.’ He winked seductively at Rose, and Wren nearly choked on a piece of asparagus. ‘And the most beautiful magic! Truly, Eana is blessed.’
‘It is indeed,’ said Rose, holding her smile as she pinched her sister under the table. ‘Just as your country is special in its way. Caro silk is famed for its bright colours and we often enjoy your wine here in Eana. And of course, many of my favourite spices hail from your beautiful country.’
‘And yet, alas, we do not enjoy the spoils of magic,’ said Prince Felix, with a pout. ‘But we are not afraid of it,’ he added, quickly. ‘In fact, we would welcome it on our shores. Indeed, I wonder if …’ He trailed off, stroking his chin as if an idea had only just occurred to him.
‘If?’ prompted Wren, warily.
‘If an Eanan flower planted somewhere else … say, somewhere warmer … would bloom as well as it does in its native soil.’ He gazed intently at Rose. ‘Excuse me for speaking so directly, but we are a direct people.’
Wren snorted. ‘You don’t say.’
‘What I am trying to ask is this, Queen Rose. If you and I were to have children, they would most certainly be beautiful, but they would also be magical, would they not?’ This time it was Rose who nearly choked on her food. Prince Felix seemed not to notice. ‘Is it possible to spread the magic of your country to another?’
‘The closer we are to the source of our magic, which is the land of Eana itself, the stronger our magic is,’ said Thea politely, as if the prince of Caro had asked her about the potatoes they were eating rather than the possibility of Rose bearing magic children for him. ‘Prince Felix, I must say, the horses you brought with you are very fine. I was admiring them this morning.’
Rose offered the Queensbreath a grateful smile.
‘Ah!’ Felix’s eyes lit up. ‘Those are our very finest Caro stallions. They are a wonder unto themselves.’
‘Then perhaps you should mate with one of them instead,’ said Wren under her breath.
‘They are a gift to the queens,’ he went on, with great excitement. ‘Six for each sister. You’ll find the Illonian breed are the fastest horses anywhere on this earth. I’d bet my castle on it.’
‘Then I’m afraid you would lose it, Prince Felix. As they could not possibly be as fast as our desert horses,’ said Rose, sweetly.
Felix leaned forward. ‘Is that a challenge, Queen Rose? And if it is, what would you wager on it?’ He leered at her. ‘Will I win your hand in marriage if one of my horses beats your own?’
Wren looked between them. ‘This is either the best or worst proposal I’ve ever heard.’
‘Prince Felix, you are far too kind,’ said Rose, between sips of wine. ‘We cannot accept such generous gifts.’
‘But we’ll keep the olive trees,’ said Wren, swishing her fork around.
‘The trees are from my mother,’ said Felix. ‘But the horses and the jewels –’ he smiled widely at Rose – ‘those are gifts from me. Hand chosen for the most beautiful maiden in Eana. This is but a small measure of the kind of treatment you can expect as a bride of Caro.’
‘Rose is queen of Eana,’ said Wren, pointedly. ‘This is the kind of treatment she already deserves.’
‘And I am not yet anyone’s bride,’ said Rose, keeping a tight leash on her temper. She had done this song and dance once before, and it had ended in tragedy. She was not interested in being bartered again, and certainly not to Prince Felix of Caro.
He held up his hands in supplication. ‘Apologies,’ he said, with a toothy smile. ‘I meant no offence. Indeed, I seek only to please you.’ He waggled his brows. ‘And you should know, I take pleasing women very seriously. In Caro, it is an art.’
‘Oh my,’ said Thea, quietly.
Wren wheezed into her napkin.
Rose’s cheeks flamed. ‘Prince Felix, we hope to have a long and prosperous alliance with Caro. But I’m afraid I simply cannot accept anything from you at the present moment.’
Prince Felix frowned. He looked, almost reluctantly, to Wren. He cleared his throat. ‘Queen Wren—’
‘Don’t bother,’ said Wren, cutting him off. ‘I’m afraid it’s a no from me, too.’ She skewered the fish eye with her fork. ‘In fact, make that a never.’
‘Very well,’ said Felix, taking a large slug of wine. ‘Queen Rose, you will see I am both a very patient and very persistent man.’
Rose steadied her voice. ‘What admirable qualities.’
Felix grinned over the rim of his goblet. ‘I look forward to showing you the rest of them in due time.’
Stars above, thought Rose, reaching for her own cup of wine. Maintaining trade relations with their closest allies was going to be much more complicated than she had anticipated.