Chapter 20 #2
“Because the people no longer believed,” he grunts, leaning on the fallen tree for support. “So the Fairy Godmother did what she could with what little magic she had left.” He finishes, resigning himself to where he’s laid out on his belly over the trunk.
“Here, let me.” I let out a breath, checking my tone as I help him into an upright position on the tree.
“Thanks.” He yawns, bumping his shoulder into mine, his lighthearted demeanor already chipping away at my foul mood. “Of course.” I fidget with my fingers, thinking back on what Galahand had once said. “Do you truly believe the crimson rot was sent to protect something?”
“Or someone,” Myrrdin answers, his focus trained on the fuzzy blue worm now climbing around his fingers.
I shift, uncomfortable in my slowly drying dress and frustrated with how each and every answer creates five more questions in its stead.
Rhidland tosses a chunk of wood into the fire, and I jump as the flames flicker and grow, their warmth licking my flesh. “I think that’s enough for tonight. Finish eating, my lady. Then it’s time for bed.”
Everyone grumbles their agreement, no doubt thankful for the reprieve. But silence has never been a friend of mine, and the more I sit and think, the more I’m left to wonder… are they right?
If Frog could be right about the Sirens, it would stand to reason that he may also be right about the Evil Queen. But even if he were, what would that change? Nothing. And yet…
I sink my teeth into my cheek as I will the dark knight to meet my gaze, to rid me of this need to know him, when Merrek leans forward.
“Whatcha lookin’ at?” He whispers in my ear.
I flinch. “I, well-I…”
The smirk that climbs up the twin’s freckled cheek as he offers me a chunk of bread from the plate beside him is all but telling. He didn’t have to ask. He already knows.
Crap. I shove the piece of bread into my mouth, only to realize how very, very dry it is.
Merrek slaps my back, giggling like a little girl as I all but choke on the wheaty brick now lodged in my throat.
“She’s good,” he calls out to the others before concern can etch its way between their brows.
“I do the same thing when I see someone that I fancy. Not the choking bit. No, this…” His voice lowers as he continues to pat my back, even after the bread works its way down my throat.
“This is flirting in a way I’ve never seen. ”
“I…cough…am not…cough… flirting.” I scoff with what little voice I have left. “Besides, even if I were, which I wasn’t…he’d probably find it frightening. Said so himself.”
Merrek cuts Frog a look, one that has the masked knight quickly turning away and the tops of his cheeks pinkening.
“Did he now? Well, he’s certainly scared of something,” he mutters with a shake of his head. “Anyway. Goodnight, Princess. Oh! And in case you were wondering…he looks at you too,” he winks, giggling to himself as he finds a spot on the forest floor next to the fire.
“Wait, what?” The question is barely past my lips when already he’s falling back to sleep on the forest floor.
How does he do that?
I shake my head, but chance a look in Frog’s direction, just to see if Merrek was telling the truth. Sure enough, the Dark Knight’s already staring. Or was.
“My lady?” I startle at the feel of a hand on my back, relaxing when I find it’s only Rhidland. “You should sleep.” He nods toward the carriage.
“Right.” I yawn, knowing tonight will be no different than the last. Restless and quiet. Oh so quiet. “Goodnight, everyone.”
Frog clambers to his feet, nearly choking himself with his boot as it catches on the trim of his cloak.
Wolfe eyes the masked man warily, mumbling something akin to a “g’night” as he stretches out on the tree, arms bent beneath his head.
Myrrdin too casts a look at Frog, but where Wolfe’s face was set in firm lines, Myrrdin’s lips have loosened into a lopsided smile. “Goodnight, princess,” he says with a subtle shake of his head as he throws his cloak down, using it as a makeshift sleeping sack.
Frog is the last one standing, if it can be called that. Foregoing words, he’s opted for what I believe is meant to be a bow?
It’s awkward and jerky. But it makes my heart flutter all the same. My crazy delusional heart.
“Goodnight.” I start to back away, noting the way his eyes trace over every imprint my slippers leave on the dust covered path. “Oh, and Frog?”
His head lifts just ever so slightly.
“Thank you for saving me from that fall.”
His autumn green eyes snap to mine just as they did in my dream, their heated stare setting my pale sunken cheeks aflame.
I suck in a breath, waiting for him to release me from their depths.
But they never do. They hold me there, bouncing from one eye to the other.
Searching for something I can’t help but to want to help him find, if it should mean he’ll look and look, just a little while longer.
“My lady?” Rhidland’s hand on the bend of my elbow snaps the invisible thread, setting everything back into motion.
Frog returns to fixing up his makeshift bed and I allow Rhidland to lead me to the carriage.
He says nothing as he helps me up the little step and out of my damp dress. With his gaze still averted, he passes me my nightgown and I slip into it and onto the velvet bench. Well and truly exhausted, I curl into myself.
“If I may, I’d like to apologize. There are things I cannot…It is not my place to say. But you are not alone in the dark, my lady.”
I look over my shoulder to find Rhidland staring down at me, his tired eyes brimming with regret. There are things he cannot say. Things he cannot do. Yet, his love still reaches beyond the oath he is bound to.
“I understand.” I say in turn, but we both know what is really being said.
I love you too.
“Right.” The old guard coughs, his feeble attempt at hiding the emotion scratching at the back of his throat. “Well then, best get to sleep.”
My face falls before I can think to catch it. Rhidland reels around.
“Everything alright, my lady? Are you cold? Should I fetch another cloak?”
Not wanting to swallow the taste of another lie, or rob one of the knights of their only comfort, I decide to tell the truth. “I haven’t slept much in the past few days. I think I may actually miss the castle. Do you think it odd I could long for such a place?”
The old guard stands quiet, ticking his mustache from side to side as he stares out at the forest from the carriage door.
“I think it’s okay to miss where we come from. But my lady, flowers cannot grow in decay,” he says, his eyes soft as they look down upon me.
A tired grin tugs at my lips as the old guard tips his head in goodnight before climbing out of the carriage and closing the door behind him.
It isn’t long before the restless waves of slumber try to pull me under, but the silence is too loud.
I toss and turn, stirring the carriage as I move to and from the floor in the hopes of finding a creaky floorboard or a squeaky axle. Something to distract from the nothingness. But it’s no use.
Defeated, I lie beneath the posh velvet roof without even the relief of a nightmare to save me from the heaviness of what’s to come.
That is, until, I hear it…faint at first, but most certainly there. A ghostly hum.
A haunted lullaby.
One I know by heart. It’s the very same one that sang me to sleep on many occasions. One I thought I’d never hear again.
I dare not breathe for fear of scaring the lost soul away. Instead, I close my eyes and let the deep, familiar timbre of the ghost’s voice take me somewhere far, far, away.
Somewhere that feels a lot like home.