Chapter 33 #2
“Why is everyone out here?” Father’s petulant voice interrupts Henry. He shivers somewhat dramatically as he joins us in the twilit courtyard.
“It seems your daughter is to be the next princess of Rhylorria.” Chrestowine’s bow is the same precise seventeen degrees as his servants’.
Lem coughs. “No.” He straightens his shoulders. “I’ve, er, abdicated.”
The count is normally good at hiding his expressions, but this time he actually looks surprised. Father’s face falls.
“And are we to take it that you’ve abdicated your Gifts as well?
” Chrestowine asks without looking me in the eyes.
Am I that hideous without Melusine’s interference?
I almost feel bad about it, then remember that Lem’s wild about kissing me—this version of me—and decide to stop wasting any thought on what the count or any other man thinks about my new appearance.
“I gave up my Gifts.” The simple truth feels good. Freeing. As if I’ve spent my whole life looking at a false reflection of myself—not just my face, but who I am—and now, finally, I get to discover reality.
Father sniffs. Is he blinking back tears? Have I disappointed him that much?
“You look like your mother.” Father steps closer to me and brushes a lock of hair from my face. “I never saw it before.” He rocks back on his heels, face drooping. “Agatha, I’ve been a fool, and a coward, and worse. Can you—can you forgive me?”
I stiffen. I don’t want to. What he did, even if it turned out right in the end, was so wrong. But wrong or not, he’s my father, and I can’t quite bear to see the sorrow on his face. The old Agatha—the Gifted one—would have smiled and said whatever he wanted to hear.
Now, I swallow. “I’ll … try.” The words are quiet, but as honest as any I’ve spoken.
Father embraces me, his shoulders shaking with silent tears. “Come home.” His voice is muffled. “I’m so sorry, Agatha. Come home.”
I meet Lem’s gaze over Father’s shoulders. Lem nods slowly, though his eyes are full of regret.
My heart twists. Part of me wants to say no and walk away for good, but I ache at the thought of not seeing my brothers again. Will they like this new version of me? Will Stepmother?
Melusine crackles back into the courtyard, pale green lights sparking out from her as she materializes.
One zings by my nose and sends a jolt through my skin.
“Forgot to give your horse back,” she says to Lem.
“And good riddance. It would have eaten everything in my glade—so don’t blame me if you find it a little altered.
Got into a cabinet that it really should not have! ”
Lem blinks. “Why did you have—?”
“Someone had to take care of it once you were changed.”
He looks around.
“It’s not here,” Melusine explains. “I tied it … hm … somewhere. Perhaps in the stable.”
“I don’t have a stable,” Chrestowine says.
Melusine’s round face screws up in concentration. “Is a stable not the one with all those chairs and things?”
“You put a horse inside?” Now the count really does look alarmed. “Inside my house?”
Melusine blinks at him. “It was eating too much!”
Chrestowine mutters something rude and hurries away, presumably to save his nicely-polished furniture from the munchings of a bored equine.
“While I’m here”—Melusine folds her arms across her chest and hovers a few inches off the ground—“I have some thoughts for you.”
Father releases me and winces under her glare.
“I’m watching, you know. Managed to sort out this little business, but my powers have limits! No more treating my goddaughter like this!”
Father, pale, gulps and nods. “I was wrong,” he rasps. He lays a hand on my shoulder.
“You were,” Melusine says sternly. “Do not give me further cause to interfere! And you!” She swings without warning to Henry.
He turns nearly as pale as Father. “Yes?”
Melusine floats closer to him, holding up an orb of pale pink light to inspect his face more closely. “Do you like to paint?”
Henry’s forehead furrows at the question. “Not really?”
“Hm.” Without warning, Melusine snatches a hair from his head. “Hm. You might do.”
“Do what?”
Melusine smiles, which seems to disconcert Henry even more, and tucks the hair into her bodice. With a final look around our little group, she blows me a kiss and snaps herself out of sight.
“Have I been cursed?” Henry tries to make it sound like a joke, but his eyes betray his unease.
I lift a shoulder. “Hard to tell.”
“Well.” Father dabs a handkerchief to his forehead. “If we’re all settled, we should go—”
“Lady Agatha has promised to marry me, and I am anxious to do so,” Lem interrupts gruffly.
I note that he does not ask Father’s permission.
“But I should return to Rhylorria first.” The evening breeze ruffles his hair.
“It was cowardly of me to run away like this. I owe the king and queen proper notice that I am no longer their heir.”
“That’s my fault,” Henry says. His toe scuffs the courtyard stones. “I shouldn’t have pressured you into this. Although”—he looks at me with grudging acceptance—“it seems it worked out for the best. I’m sorry for calling you a beaver.”
“I was more offended by the foolish nonsense you spouted after we got out,” I say dryly. Henry flushes. Lem’s eyes narrow.
“Yes, well, I apologize for that too.”
“And I apologize for accusing you of being overbearing and misbegotten.” Perhaps I let myself smile a bit more than necessary, for Henry rolls his eyes.
“I’m not sure I want you to become better acquainted,” Lem grumbles, but there’s a smile hiding somewhere on his face.
I gently pull away from Father so I can step closer to Lem. “He’ll get used to me.” I thread my fingers through his, not minding all the eyes watching us. “I think I need to go home.”
Lem’s eyes soften and he squeezes my hand. “I understand.”
I don’t know why I feel so nervous. My heart flutters, and I nearly say something flippant to hide my true feelings—but no, that’s not who I am anymore. “I want you to come back,” I say. “After you’ve got everything sorted. Come back and marry me.”
“It might take a long time,” Henry grouses behind us. “This is unprecedented.”
“There will be committees.” The woe in Lem’s voice is almost laughable.
“And I still don’t understand what you think you’ll live off, or where you’ll settle, or—” Henry says.
“We’ll figure it out.” I don’t have to feign confidence when I meet Lem’s eyes.
“We’ll figure it out,” Lem echoes. His strong fingers squeeze mine again, while his other hand holds up the key Melusine gave him. “If nothing else, we have this.”
And then, as the first star twinkles into view and Father and Henry look on with varying degrees of approbation, he kisses me boldly, and I am sincerely convinced that our future will be glorious.