Chapter 18 Myths and Folklore #3
“I- it was nothing.” Luci tried.
Across from her, Max took his seat and grinned, showcasing a newly missing front tooth that was entirely in conflict with his scholarly demeanor.
“You lost a tooth,” Luci said.
“He sure did. Make sure not to put it under your pillow when you go to sleep tonight.” Lucien said, taking his seat next to her. “You're in my seat, by the way, but that’s all right. We’ll make an exception tonight.”
“Why would I put my tooth under my pillow? Thats ridiculous.” Max said, eyebrows pulling down sharply.
Prince Ira patted Max’s shoulder as he walked by and took his place to the left of his father.
“You of all people don’t know the story of the tooth fairy?” Prince Ira asked, his lips pulling up in a crooked smile.
Brielle took her seat next to Lucien, and she could not have been more grateful for a barrier against Lord Treveon. It didn’t matter what affirmations Prince Ira and Brielle said to her; at the end of the day, they didn’t mean anything if she didn’t believe them.
“Oh, I know this one!” Brielle said. “If you place your tooth under your pillow, the tooth fairy takes it and leaves a treasure in exchange.”
“Yes, that’s the children’s version, but the real story is much darker,” Lucien said.
“It’s all nonsense.” Lord Treveon said.
There were absolutely no such things as fairy godmothers, or ever were, because Lord Treveon took the seat across from her. Small mercies, he didn’t make eye contact with her. This was a terrible night.
“You don’t believe in the legends, Stefan?” King Rubert asked.
He was a striking man whose voice carried with the authority befitting his station. Even sitting at the head of the table, sitting back in his chair, relaxed, he was imposing.
“Of course, I do, but tooth fairies are not a part of any of the great stories,” he said.
Leaning forward, Lucien lifted his fork and pointed it at Max.
“The stories will tell you the fae were kind, but actually, if you were naive enough to put your tooth beneath your pillow, you would alert the fae to your presence and bam!” he slammed his fist on the table, making Max jump.
“Next thing you know, you are whisked off to the land of the fae and imprisoned for all your days.”
Max’s eyes went wide before he shook his soft brown curls and glared at his older brother.
“I would have come across such a thing if it existed,” he said.
Lucien shrugged and set his fork down.
“All I’m saying is maybe don’t put your tooth under your pillow,” he said.
A steel reserve came over Max as he straightened his shoulders and leaned back in his chair. Fae or not, Luci was plenty sure that the little prince would be placing his tooth beneath his pillow the moment he got back to his room.
“I think it’s time to eat,” the king said.
On command, servants entered, bringing in trays of soup.
The heart scent of pumpkin erupted, and Luci’s stomach grumbled in answer.
It was her favorite soup, and she was beginning to think the night was taking a turn for the better.
Sure enough, the first bite was creamy and just the right amount of thick.
It reminded her of autumn days spent watching the leaves fall while bundled up in the ridiculous sweaters Brielle knitted during the summer.
Always comically big and fuzzy to the point of passing for a sheep.
“Luci?” Gladys asked next to her.
“Hmm?”
Raising her eyes, she found several eyes on her, and contentment quickly transformed into horror.
Gladys’ answering smile held no malice. “I was asking how you found the pumpkin soup. Brielle mentioned it was your favorite the other day.”
Brielle was spilling all her secrets now. Craning her head past Lucien, Luci found Brielle happily plopping her spoon into her mouth. Clearly unbothered by her betrayal.
“It’s the best I’ve ever had, though I am not brave enough to tell Archie that,” Luci said.
“Oh, certainly not.” Brielle agreed. “She’d stomp all the way to the capital and demand a competition to see which was best.”
“That doesn’t seem so terrible.” Prince Ira said.
Luci could feel his gaze on her, but she was not prepared for what that meant. Instead, she busied herself with her pumpkin soup and tried to make herself small while conversation volleyed back and forth among the nobles.
It truly was a small gathering. Aside from the Treveons and Vencias, Annabeth and her father were there, as well as two other families from the council.
All the same, it was enough for people to forget about her till after the main course, which was the most mouth-watering beef she’d ever tasted in her life.
In fact, Luci was confident that if she died right then, she would have died knowing true happiness.
Mixed with the carrots and buttered potatoes, it was like being home at Blythe.
There was only one thing that would have perfectly completed the meal.
“Oh, what’s this?” Queen Alexia asked.
A servant slid a perfectly cut slice of golden crust inlaid with peaches and the unmistakable scent of lavender.
Heart in her stomach, Luci lifted her eyes to Prince Ira, who was watching her with a small grin pulling at his dimple.
“Lavender peach pie,” he said.
“How strange. I’m intrigued,” the queen said.
Prince Ira placed his fork into his slice and raised it to her with a wink. What was happening?
“This is delightful! What a novel idea. It reminds me of summer,” the queen said.
Luci was drowning. All her favorite foods. It was too much. It was a feeling inside her stomach and chest that threatened to pull her under. Too much attention, too much thought, too much care. It was all too much.
She needed to leave. Needed to find some air.
“Now that we’ve eaten, I think it’s time for our formal announcement for tonight’s celebration.” Lord Treveon said.
The sound of a spoon clattering onto the table drew everyone’s attention, and Luci realized her error.
Beside Lucien, Brielle was paler than before, and just at the bridge of her nose was a scattering of red dots. More than that, her hand shook.
Luci stood, ignoring everyone else. Brielle waved her away and shook her head.
“It’s nothing, I was just clumsy, that's all, I’m fine,” she insisted.
Lie after lie. Luci’s heart thrummed against her chest.
“Do you want-”
“Actually, I could do with a small walk after all that lovely food. Ira, would you-”
Brielle didn’t have to finish the sentence before the prince was up and at her side. Brielle placed her hand in his, and the lines of veins in her arm strained from the effort she was forcing to keep from shaking.
“Brielle,” Luci began.
“She is fine, you heard her.” Lord Treveon said.
Prince Ira shot him a look that promised retribution, and Brielle’s father sank back into his chair, though a thin bead of sweat formed at his temple. It was his greatest fear coming true. If this progressed as it inevitably would, everyone would know of Brielle’s illness.
As she stood, she wrapped an arm around Luci and pulled her into a hug. Her body was on fire, and Luci’s heart dropped straight into her stomach. Dread coiling tighter and tighter.
“I’m going to make it right. You deserve to be happy,” she whispered into Luci’s ear.
It was as poor an omen as could be. She reached for Brielle, but she and Prince Ira were already stepping away, the servants opening the gilded doors for them.
If staring could have brought them back, she would have successfully convinced Brielle to go to the infirmary.
As it was, she could at least get Noah and warn him.
“How unusual,” Annabeth murmured.
“Indeed,” answered her father.
Luci became aware that she was standing awkwardly just as Lord Treveon grabbed her arm, his grip like iron steel.
“Best to sit and wait for them,” he said.
His tone was light, but pain erupted from where he gripped her just under the table so no one else would notice.
“Yes, come sit back with me, Brielle. I need to know all about the work you do holed up in the infirmary. It sounds like torture,” Lucien said, gesturing to her chair.
Lord Treveon finally released her, and she wrapped her hand around the mark lest anyone see. As she took a seat, Lucien leaned in and made a small humming noise.
“Better not let Ira see that or old Treveon is going to find himself a head shorter,” he turned his head and whispered.
“Maybe we should retire for the night. It must have been the meal, but I find I am particularly sleepy.” Gladys said.
Both her parents eyed her suspiciously, but the King nodded.
“It does seem like our reason for celebrating absconded without us,” he said.
“Best not to celebrate prematurely.” Queen Alexia murmured.
The king and queen shared a long look, and a quietness filled the air as they spoke in a language only they understood mind to mind. They could have been speaking a long-forgotten language for all Luci cared. What was important now was Brielle.
“I need to go,” Luci murmured, pushing back her chair.
The doors opened as Luci stood, and everything she was fell at her feet in ruins. None of her accomplishments, none of her joys, her triumphs mattered. She would have traded it all and more to unsee the image before her. There stood Prince Ira with Brielle’s limp body in his arms.