Chapter 10 #2
Burning, agonizing pain shot through her fingers as she forced the needles and fibers to cooperate, and by the time she was done with the row, tears were streaming down her face.
Desperate for relief, she let the half-finished shirt fall to the ground and staggered to the lake, plunging her hands into the cool water.
She sucked in a sharp breath and whimpered at the initial sting, but after a few moments, the itching and burning began to be less noticeable.
White shapes appeared in her peripherals, and she rocked back to rest her weight on her heels while keeping her hands submerged.
The swans formed a half-circle around her, with Corbin and Owen flanking her on either side.
Jacques swam forward hesitantly with sprigs of some light-colored flower in his beak.
He climbed onto the shore beside her and dropped the flowers onto her lap.
“What is this?” Lindy pulled her hands from the water and picked up one of the stems, turning it back and forth to try to get a better view in the moonlight. The end was bruised and crushed where it had been broken by swan beak, and a faint, sweet smell hit her nose.
Jacques grunted and grabbed one of the flowers, pushing the stem against her hand.
She eyed him carefully. “You want me to use it on my hands?”
He honked and bobbed his head up and down.
Lindy looked back and forth from him to the flowers. She was aware enough of botanical remedies to know that there must be some kind of plant that could provide relief for the itchy nettle rash, but she wasn’t knowledgeable enough to actually identify one. Was Jacques?
Owen would be, for sure. He practically lives in the library.
She glanced at the swan in question, who also bobbed his head in the swan version of a nod.
But…this is Jacques. He’s always been the instigator behind the pranks. This could just be another one of his tricks, another way for them to prove just how little they want me here. Or. She swallowed. Maybe they’ve changed their minds.
The moment seemed to stretch on forever as she looked at her stepsons. They were each watching her expectantly, waiting for some outcome that she wasn’t sure she wanted.
“I want to trust you,” she finally whispered brokenly into the stillness of the night.
“I want to believe that this isn’t just a cruel joke, and that you do actually want to help.
But if it’s not…if I let myself believe that you actually care, only for you to laugh in my face when it turns out to be another prank…
” Her voice cracked, and she swallowed against the hard lump in her throat before she could continue.
“If it’s another prank, I don’t think my heart could handle it, and I don’t know what it would do to the magic.
I can’t risk it—not when we’re so close. ”
Jacques ruffled his wings and honked, the sound sad and muted, and waddled over, laying his head into her lap. One by one, each of the princes came, some nudging her affectionately with their beaks, others stretching out their necks for awkward swan hugs.
Corbin was the last one to approach. He stilled suddenly, hissing at something behind her as Lindy registered the sound of something heavy moving closer through the trees.
She jumped to her feet and spun around just as a round, black bear came charging out of the forest at a loping run. She screamed.
In a flurry of angry honks and hisses, the swans all converged upon the bear, who very quickly decided that the promise of a quick meal was not worth the trouble of fighting through seven angry, strangely aggressive birds. It turned and lumbered off into the shadows.
Lindy stood shaking for several long moments after, allowing the rush of adrenaline to subside. The swans returned to her like proud warriors coming home after battle, and she laughed rather hysterically as she sank back down to the ground, whispering, “Thank you.”
Jacques picked up one of the flowers and dropped it in her lap again, and she gave in, crushing the stem to allow the slimy, watery sap to run out and rubbing the liquid into the back of her hands, smiling at him gratefully when the itching lessened a few minutes later.
She laid back, scooching back just far enough that her feet were clear of the lake water, and stretched out. The stars were bright in the sky above, and she traced the familiar constellations as the princes settled themselves to sleep around her.
“I never thought I could replace your mother,” she said softly, speaking out loud the words that she wished she had the courage to say to them when she first arrived.
“I didn’t want to try. And I know I can’t fully understand the pain that losing your father caused, I do know what it’s like to feel alone.
To wish for the one person to return that you can never see again.
” Master Pickering’s face filled her mind, along with the familiar ache of grief. “So I just want to say…I’m sorry.”
She didn’t expect to hear any answers breaking the silence of the night, but the stillness that surrounded her was one of peace rather than tension.
Exhausted by the events of the evening, she drifted off to sleep, dreaming of feathered heroes and gentle giants who would carry her away into the clouds.