Chapter Thirteen #3
“I can do both. But I need you to say it plainly, my lady. Say that this is your decree and you will accept the consequences on both your behalf.”
I paused. “Will anyone be hurt?”
“I believe many people will get hurt when they wake up one day with unbound magic and pig snouts where their nose used to be.”
That reply earned her a hard look. “I know you knew what I meant. Will whatever you have to do to trigger the fast spread of the curse risk innocent lives?”
“No,” she replied easily. “No one innocent will be hurt.”
“Then yes. I decree that you spread the beast curse far and wide to every corner of Elva. Whatever the consequences may be, we both accept them.”
Bowing slightly, she turned to leave.
“Treasa?”
“Yes, milady?”
“If you’d like to take a break, rest, or get something to eat, you can leave the babies with me for a few hours.” I spooned a little more broth past Alisdair’s cracked lips. “You already know they love their Ana Haeowen.”
She looked at me in surprise. “You’re dead on your feet, haven’t slept in days, and of all things, you volunteer to watch six infants just to give me a break?”
“Oh. If you rather I call Aeris or—”
“No, no,” she rushed. “That’s not it, I just— No matter what circumstances brought you here, you were the queen Lumenfell was meant to have. Not a good queen, but a great one.” She continued on, carrying her brood with her. “Never believe otherwise.”
I wasn’t sure what to make of that, but I let her go—returning my focus to Alisdair. “I made the decision,” I whispered. “The decision I know you would’ve made and... the one I think is right. One day history will tell us if we were wrong.”
“You are the clever one.”
I lurched back, the bowl crashing to the floor and showering me with broth and broken pottery.
“Something tells me history will bow to your will,” he rasped, “as all men do.”
Alisdair blinked up at the ceiling as if he’d never seen it before. It was impossible to see his face, covered as it was, but an air of bemusement collected around him. I had a feeling it’d been a long time since he’d gotten seriously hurt. Maybe a thousand years.
“You were attacked,” I said slowly, while approaching even slower. “By Meallan and three other wolves. That was a fortnight ago. We didn’t think you’d make it because—”
“My queen poisoned me.”
His throat was ragged from disuse. It made the sentence sound ever more sinister.
“Yes,” I whispered. “I did.”
“At least we’ve continued the tradition of me waking up bound and dying after.”
Silence hung thick and heavy—smothering me. A thousand apologies sprung to my lips, but none of them were adequate. What was I supposed to say? I’m sorry. I did it because I realized too late that I love you, and realized even later that you’ll never love me back.
“Alisdair, you have every right to be angry with me. If you let—”
He sliced in, “You say it’s been two weeks?”
“I— Uh— Yes,” I got out. “The attack was two weeks ago, and much has happened since then. Including me realizing that I—”
“Then, you can go.”
I stilled. “Excuse me?”
“You can go, Princess. Send for Aeris and I’ll have her pack up your belongings and prepare the carriage myself.”
My lips trembled. I tried to stop my voice from doing the same. “Alisdair, please.”
“Two weeks I’ve lain here, little bird. Two weeks I haven’t chased, caught, and claimed you. Fourteen nights and fourteen times I’ve broken our marriage vow.”
“I don’t care about that!”
“You care. All you’ve done since you stood up on that altar is fight to be free of me, and now you finally are. Look for yourself,” he said. “The rune that kept you bound to me and Lumenfell is gone.”
I twisted, staring down at my ankle. Alisdair was right. He was right and I hadn’t even noticed. The rune that mangled my leg whenever I left his side was no more—merely a forgotten blemish on a pale, untouched ankle.
“So go,” he hissed, striking my heart through. “It’s what you always wanted. Congratulations, little bird. The cage is open. You’ve finally gotten your wish.”
I swallowed through needles, my whole body shaking. Despite my deep-seated survival sense telling me to stay away, I moved closer to him.
I took his hand.
“Alisdair, I’m sorry for what I’ve done. I made a terrible mistake—first by hurting you, and then again when my lies and bluster actually convinced you I wanted to be anywhere but by your side. But after what I’ve done, I know what I want doesn’t matter much anymore.
“What is your wish, my husband? Do you want me to leave?” I kissed his bandaged fingertips. “Are you telling me to?”
“I am telling you to leave.”
Nodding, I set down his hand and scurried away—racing before to door before he sensed my tears.
“But my wish...”
I halted, hand closed on the knob.
“...is that you never leave me, nightmare woman. Because if I knew how to be without you, I would’ve run slower.”
I dropped my forehead against the wood—smiling so hard and wide I thought my face would break. Only when I trusted myself not to do something embarrassing like burst into tears, or tackle a sick man and have my way with him, did I turn and face him.
“Well, if you insist,” I teased, returning to his side. “I’ll stay.”
I CLIMBED THE STAIRS the next day, loaded down with fresh bandages and healing ointment. With Alisdair awake and fighting back with magic, he was healing twice as fast, but Soulstitcher insisted we keep it up until he was out of the woods.
Turning the corner, we locked eyes.
The fox boy blinked at me. Clutched in his grip was a jeweled cane that belonged in a display case in the grand hall.
“You!”
Spinning around, the boy took off running.
I didn’t think. The bandages slipped out of my hands as I chased after him, heart pounding out of my chest. “Wait,” I cried. “I’m not going to hurt you. I don’t care if you stole that cane, I just want to talk to you! Make sure you’re okay!”
The boy ran faster. I lost sight of him whipping around the corner and picked up my feet, spurring my soft, princess body on. He’s here. I can’t believe after everything, I’ve found him safe, and just as eager to escape.
“Please, slow down,” I called. “I just want to help you. I—”
I turned the corner and met with nothing.
Skidding to a stop, I spun this way and that—disbelief throwing me for a loop. He was gone. Just like that, the child disappeared in an empty hallway as if he was never there.
“How?” I took a step, then another—slowly peering around.
There were no doors. No way in or out, barring the windows. Said windows were still intact, so the boy hadn’t done anything unbelievable like throwing himself through glass to fall three floors.
The only thing the hall had to say for itself was an unadorned, depressed wall, boasting two empty plinths. I flicked down to the base of the support, spotting a single brown shoe.
The boy’s shoe. What is it doing there?
I walked over, bending down to pick it up, and then I saw it.
A crack in the wall, imperceptible to someone looking at it straight on, with no reason to give a blank wall further examination.
Wedging myself through, I stepped into a curtain of ivy and blinked up through their twisting, tangled vines—basking under the orblights.
“Here you go, Alisdair!”
Alisdair?
I reached out, carefully parting the curtain. A courtyard opened before me—laying the path of auburn cobblestones and rose bushes pampered in their own heated oasis. Actually—
“Hot.” I peeled off my shawl and coat. The courtyard was as hot as the companions’ room. What was this place?
I peeked around a chin-high rose bush, alighting on Alisdair.
He gripped the jeweled cane and reclined on a stone throne, no doubt of his own conjuring since it was wholly out of place in the middle of the garden courtyard.
His court didn’t seem to mind because all around him, children of different ages, heights, and animals ran playing and shrieking around him.
Off to the side, chatting quietly, were a group of four women—an elephant faeriken, two lioness faeriken, and a faeriken possessed by an animal I’d never seen before in my nineteen years of life.
Looking properly, the courtyard was actually more of an oversized balcony, rimmed by a large, stone railing that overlooked the snow and trees below. As dark as it was down there, it was well-lit above with orblights and torches.
“Are you going to come out or hide behind that bush all day?” Alisdair called.
Lifting my chin, I walked out—disapproval etched into my pores. “What are you doing out of bed? You woke up less than twelve hours ago, you’re in no condition to be moving around.”
“I’m much improved than I was twelve hours ago.
” He lazily waved and a throne for me appeared by his side.
Alisdair had freed his face from the bandages.
Healing cuts and pinkish scars raked across his features, but did not diminish his handsomeness in any way.
“My magic is slowly aiding the healing ointments and potions. Lying around like an invalid won’t speed up or slow down that process. ”
“That’s not the point, and I’m fairly sure it’s not true.
Running about the place will certainly slow down your healing.
You’re going straight back to bed,” I ordered, claiming my seat.
“After you tell me what’s going on here.
What is this place?” I counted fifteen children, maybe sixteen.
They were running around so fast it was hard to be sure. “Why are all of these children here?”
“This place is where you live, my queen. We’re still in the north wing. Just in the part of it that’s hidden.”
“Why would any part of it be hidden?”
“For the children,” he replied.
I gave him a hard look. “I require more explanation.”
“The children who come to Castle Riagin. This is where they live, and no,” he said, meeting my eyes, “not as slaves. They are free and safe here. They have three full meals a day, their lessons in the morning, and then they run around like hellions in the afternoon.”