Chapter 11 The Carriage
Chapter eleven
The Carriage
What makes someone worthy of being chosen by a fairy godmother is unknown, but one thing is always consistent: love.
-Tales From Meridea Volume II
They were a terrible combination and were going to be the bane of Luci’s existence. The worst decision Luci ever made was going to that cursed ball. The second was not poisoning the crown prince on night one of his stay at Blythe. He was a plague.
“Are you sure you don’t recognize the flower, Luci?” Brielle asked.
A pressure that was quickly boiling built in Luci’s chest. Placing the vial filled with lavender and chamomile onto the table in front of her, Luci took the longest breath of her life, praying to long-dead fairies for the strength to endure this.
With a steadying breath, she turned to find Brielle holding up the drawing Luci made last night as if it held any more answers than it did before.
It was a rather decent replica of the one inside her mind, all things considered.
Tall and rod-straight except for the feather-like blossoms that sprouted out on one side, one on top of the other.
“Same answer as before. I’ve never seen anything like it in my life,” she said.
Brielle gave a small pout and gently placed the drawing on top of the stack of handwritten pages Luci had spent all night penning.
Every last memory she retained from the ball was all written with as much detail as she was capable of.
She'd considered burning them no less than a hundred times, but it was hard to refuse Brielle's simple requests.
“It’s all right, I am sure someone at the castle has seen it.” Prince Ira said, reaching over and placing his hand on her shoulder. “Besides, you’ve already done so much. Look at all of this— it’s more than I ever thought we would have.”
He gestured toward the mountain of papers. Despite hours combing over them and writing down hypothesis after hypothesis, he was still impeccable. Hair perfectly in place with that pearly white smile that probably allowed him to get away with murder. It was all very annoying.
After all, between lack of sleep and trying to put together enough tonics to last Brielle at least a month in the capital meant Luci was adorned with large dark circles under her eyes and hair that frizzed and stuck out every which way despite the braid it was forced into.
“I suppose that’s true, but it feels like all of this means nothing without the flower,” Brielle murmured.
“Yet we know it to be on top of Glass Mountain in the northern province.” Prince Ira said, releasing Brielle to pull the map closer and point to the large mountain peak that he’d circled several times over.
“You are only guessing. It could just as well be the blue mountains on the eastern side.” Luci said, stalking over to tap the mountain range for emphasis.
Undeterred, Prince Ira smiled up at Luci before grabbing one of her papers and holding up, pointing with his quill at the wobbly cursive.
“Except for the vision showed a great winged shadow— what else could it mean if not for a dragon which by all accounts lived on Glass Mountain,” he said.
“It could have just as well been a wyvern, which were known to be in the Blue mountains.” Luci snapped. “Your overconfidence will lead to unnecessary search parties, wasted money, and wasted energy.”
“Luci,” Brielle whispered.
Ever the gracious prince, Ira waved away her concern.
“No, it’s good to hear every perspective. We don’t need to get this wrong and risk other parties getting word and beating us to it,” he said.
Luci’s eyes narrowed on him. "Like who?”
He shrugged his shoulders and leaned back at the kitchen table as if it were all of little consequence, a prince through and through. Charming smile and polite facade aside, his arrogance reeked of privilege.
“Anyone? My brother, mercenaries, political antagonists,” his eyes glinted as he leaned forward. “In fact, I’d say my ideal situation would be that only the three of us and Max know anything at all.”
“A seven-year-old,” Luci grunted out.
Prince Ira flashed a dazzling smile. “A precocious and highly intelligent seven-year-old.”
Ridiculous. This was all ridiculous. Maybe it was a symptom of their wealth and position, but none of them were taking this seriously and seeing all the pitfalls.
“Hypothetically, say you have enough evidence to say it one mountain or another, which I will remind you, mountains are extraordinarily large and traverse many miles of land, who will be going off on this little quest if it’s only the crown prince, Brielle, a seven-year-old, and a servant who knows about it? ” Luci challenged.
Raising his finger to his lips, Prince Ira tapped twice, eyes squinting as he considered.
“This is an excellent point,” he said.
Finally.. Luci’s chest gave way a fraction as the first sign of logic took root in the Blythe dining room.
“While a good point, I’d argue it’s unimportant at this current stage,” he said, leaning back once more like he solved the entire plot.
Mouth falling open, Luci stared at the aggravating being who infiltrated her home.
“You truly take nothing seriously.” Luci scoffed.
“You take it seriously enough for all of us,” he said.
Luci was seeing red. It permeated every corner of the room. Arrogant ass.
“You-” Luci began, but a knock on the door stole the much-needed words.
With a gentle ascent from Brielle, who was hiding a smile beneath a cough, Mrs. Blakesley entered. Of course, her sharp gaze locked on Luci like she was immediately guilty of some crime. Suppose she could just find a pillow to scream into. She’d be much happier.
“The carriage is ready, Miss Brielle, Your Highness,” the housekeeper said.
Excellent. They were really doing this.
Turning sharply, Luci reached for one of the vials that held her scrawled handwriting. Ginger and turmeric. By the time she made for Brielle, she was already holding her hand out expectantly, a small curve to her lips.
“To prevent my knees from swelling during the carriage ride, I know, I know,” she said.
With ease, she popped the cork off the top and drained the amber liquid in one go, wrinkling her nose in distaste.
“I hate that one,” she said, her lower lip popped out.
“Well, we could skip the carriage ride, and you wouldn’t have to take it,” Luci said.
“I’ve taken it now, so might as well go. If only you said that before, I might have reconsidered.” Brielle chirped.
Irritation drew the hairs up on Luci’s back as Prince Ira chuckled and gently took the vial from Brielle, inspecting it.
“I think you might be the only person alive who can tease Lucinda and still live through it,” he said to Brielle. “This is very impressive, though. While we are at the capital, you should stop by and speak to Master Hartrich, the lead healer. He’d be very interested in your methods.”
“And leave you to convince Brielle to waltz up a mountain, I think not,” Luci said.
She snatched the vial from him and ignored the way his fingers brushed hers and the sound of his laugh that made her think that maybe she should laugh a little more.
Laughing was for princes without responsibility who chased fairytales as a result.
Maybe he should spend more time preparing to be a leader and king instead of letting a seven-year-old fill his mind with bedtime stories.
“Luci doesn’t like leaving Blythe. It makes her very grumpy.” Brielle offered.
“I see that.” Prince Ira agreed.
Luci ignored both of them as she carefully placed each vial in its own small cloth-lined compartment of the wicker basket. She’d spent years perfecting the design so that when they were forced to travel, even the roughest carriage ride would not crack the glass.
“Allow me,” Prince Ira said.
Luci turned her head slightly to see him standing, holding his hand out to Brielle, who beamed up at him and placed it in hers.
How easily Brielle let down her guard and trusted the prince.
Not a moment spent considering how this would all end.
It was a side effect of being chronically unwell and cooped up.
If Luci had spent more time bringing her outside and taking walks, maybe she wouldn’t crave adventure and romance as much. Probably a symptom of those damn books.
“Luci, will you grab Calcifer? He will scratch anyone else.” Brielle said.
Luci spun, mouth hanging open. “The cat? Why are we bringing the cat?”
Puffing out her bottom lip, Brielle sniffed. A truly pathetic display of manipulation.
“I’d miss him too much. Don’t pretend like you wouldn’t either.”
Shaking her head, Luci finished packing the vials and ignored the happy couple as they left her to her work.
It was one thing after another. Brielle wasn’t thinking practically.
All it took was one person from the ball recognizing Luci and throwing the whole ordeal into question.
Her head was still attached for the moment, but that could be easily undone.
Besides, Prince Ira might act like a perfect gentleman, but no man appreciated being tricked.
That austere mask filled with smiles would quickly decompose if the truth were found out.
Which meant Luci needed a way to figure out how to get Brielle back to Blythe as soon as possible.
Even if it meant entertaining this farce of a charade regarding lost magic and fairy godmothers.
That itch in her neck prickled and pestered, reminding her of the way the magic felt on her skin.
Who was she to pretend like it didn’t exist?
There was no other logical explanation for what she’d seen and felt.
To acknowledge magic was real was one thing, but to go off on a wild quest searching for a flower that didn’t exist? That was something else entirely.