CH.29 Hide and seek
"Could you please practice the dance with me, Your Majesty? I'm still unsure of my steps, and I don't want to make a mistake."
For days she had successfully avoided sword dancing training, which she had never known existed until she became Anastasia.
But this time, she had no excuse. Not that she was injured, nor that she had to go to a fitting for a wedding dress that had not yet been made.
Prince Edmund had gone hunting with the lords, and she was left at the mercy of the queen's whims, who tried to control her like a chess piece.
"You did very well last time. Excellently," said the queen. "I you couldn't forget it in the last few days."
Except it wasn't her last time, Iris thought. She was surprised when the queen used the word excellent. Anastasia had never done anything even decently, let alone excellently.
"I'd be more confident if you joined me," she said.
The Queen agreed and joined her. All she had to do was imitate her steps, and everything would be fine. Although, she had no idea how inconspicuous she could be.
Somehow, she managed to survive the training without the queen revealing her pretense.
Even though there was uncertainty written in her steps.
All she had to do was repeat after the queen like her parrots from faraway lands.
She barely dragged her tired body back to her chambers.
But there was no peace waiting for her there either. Only more unpleasant surprises.
The stepmother was just reaching for the door handle leading to the closet.
"Mom!" Iris almost screamed.
The stepmother turned towards her in alarm. As if she had caught her doing something. She took her hand off the doorknob. She stepped away from the door.
"You're back already? So soon?" she said with concern in her voice.
"Yes. We just finished with the Queen," Iris said.
"And how did it go?" she asked her.
"Excellent," she replied.
They looked at each other in confusion for a moment. Neither of them said a word.
"What are you doing here anyway?" Iris broke the silence.
"I'm just worried about you, Anastasia," she said. "You've been acting strange lately."
"How strange?" Iris wondered.
"For example, those gloves you always wear."
"I'm just hiding a scar from a cut I made on broken glass."
"And since when do you not like your favorite dessert?"
"After what happened before the joust, I was upset. It was a tough day."
"I feel like you're avoiding me, Anastasia," the stepmother said to her daughter's illusion.
"I just have a lot going on. The Queen keeps me quite busy. Preparations for the wedding, meeting the ladies, court etiquette, learning how to be a proper princess. It's a bit much for me." Iris tried to talk her stepmother out of suspicion.
"You have changed, Anastasia."
"People change."
"I'm just worried that Iris did something to you. You've been acting strange since she left. Like you're not yourself," said the stepmother.
"How could she do anything to me? We haven't seen her since the engagement ball, and the guards are guarding the palace. She has no way to get in here." Iris laughed.
"Maybe it's her clothes. We don't know what kind of magic she sewed into them."
"You don't have to worry about me, Mom. I'm still me, your Anastasia. I just realize what they say about me at court. Iris' magic dress won't help us anymore. It's time to grow up and adapt to the rules here."
"The courtiers don't matter. The prince will do whatever you ask. He's head over heels in love with you. We don't need Iris anymore."
"But we're not married yet. A lot can go wrong."
"I'm not worried about that. Who wouldn't fall in love with you, Anastasia." Her stepmother gave her a wide smile and hugged her.
It felt so unnatural to Iris, it was her stepmother she hated, and she hated her, but she returned the hug to keep up the pretense. There was tension and distrust in him.
Then something fell in the wardrobe. Iris immediately recognized the sound of the falling screen. Anastasia heard her mother and tried to warn her about the deception with her fake face.
"What was that?" the stepmother was startled.
"Nothing," Iris said nervously.
"It came from the closet."
"You must have just imagined it."
"Are you okay, Anastasia?"
"Of course."
Then another blow came. She must have fallen with her chair trying to make a noise. Madam Tremaine took a step toward the closet, but Iris pulled her away and pushed her toward the door.
"You should go now, Mom. I'm tired, and I'd like to rest."
"What was that, Anastasia? Is someone there?"
"No one. It's almost night. You must be tired too. You should rest."
She pushed her out the door.
"Anastasia!"
And before she slammed the door in her face, her eyes reflected the deepest suspicions. That look in her eyes. She remembered the tragedy in front of the arena when she saw her covered in blood, sword clutched in her hand. Is this even possible?
?
"We're going on a trip, dear stepsister."
Anastasia looked at her with fear in her eyes. Her pupils dilated. She began to tremble, seeing nothing good in her sinister grin.
The stepmother suspected something. It was no coincidence that she had snuck into her chambers when she was not there.
She had not been waiting for her. She was looking for something.
And she was only a short distance from revealing her secret.
Iris was lucky that she had returned before she found out.
She had to get rid of Anastasia. Somewhere where no one would find her.
The stepmother would be even more suspicious now, watching her every move.
She could not afford to make a mistake. Not anymore.
"You don't have to worry. I don't plan on killing you," she told her. "Not yet."
That didn't exactly calm Anastasia down.
Iris untied her legs and her hands. After long days of being tied to a chair, she could feel her blood flowing through her veins again.
Her whole body ached, her muscles were tightening in spasms. Like when she got sick one winter and couldn't even get out of bed.
But this was worse. A stabbing pain shot through her whole body.
Her hands were shaking. She tried to stand up.
Her legs were shaking. Her fragile body failed her, and she fell to the ground.
"That would be enough. You can still walk."
Iris grabbed her by the arm. She wanted to pull her to her feet, but Anastasia chose to fight.
She reached for the shoebox, hitting Iris with it.
It hit the spot on her forehead where the small wound still adorned her.
It still hurt a little. Instead of hurting Iris, however, it only made her angrier.
Anastasia brandished the box at her. Iris snatched it from her hand.
A sinister smile graced her lips. As if she expected a fight.
As if she craved it. She threw herself at her stepsister.
She was no match for her, weak and limp from her days in prison.
At least she gave her a chance. But it only ended with her spilling blood, a bruise under her eye, scratches, and a torn lip.
"I hope you enjoyed your moment of defiance, but now stand up! We don't have time for fun."
"You'll never get away with this, Iris," Anastasia told her, managing to tear off the scarf that was stealing her voice. "Mom will find out. She'll find out you're not me."
"I've been getting away with this for quite some time, Anastasia. And you want to know what's the funniest part? Your mother has no idea you're lost. It must be a terrible feeling not to recognize her own daughter."
"I don't believe you." A glimmer of despair flashed in her eyes.
"You don't have to. I don't need your faith. Now get off your ass."
She silenced her again. She tied her hands behind her back, dragging her like an animal.
When she stubbornly refused to move, she jerked the rope and knocked her to her knees.
She laughed, enjoying her pain and despair.
She wanted her to suffer. Just like she had suffered them all those years, when they had made her their slave and used her gift for their perverted plans.
This time Iris was ready. The horse was waiting for them in the forest. All that was left was to get the prince's bride out of the palace unnoticed.
She pushed Anastasia into the maze. The path through led almost to the edge of the forest. The thick darkness was cut by moonlight.
The full moon was not far away, the moon slowly rounding into its full beauty.
Iris stared at the night sky, thinking about what Luc had told her.
Could it be that when the full moon came, he would come for her?
Would he materialize from the shadows and carry her to his realm?
He was trapped, she told herself. He couldn't reach her.
The winding living corridors led them to the other side of the labyrinth.
The line of the forest was in sight. Then the darkness of the night was cut by the brightness of the fire.
The silence was broken by the footsteps of soldiers.
Anastasia seized the opportunity. She ran towards them, but Iris quickly pulled her back. She put a dagger to her throat.
"Be obedient or I will not guarantee your life," she whispered in her ear. "I will gladly sprinkle this earth with your blood, and do not think I will hesitate."
She froze in terror. She almost forgot to breathe. Her desire for freedom was suffocated by the fear of death. The soldiers passed by them. They did not notice them hiding in the shadows. The glow of the fire reached their feet and, on the verge of their discovery, melted into the night.
They were lost under the canopy of trees. Iris dragged Anastasia through the forest. She tripped over tree roots sticking out of the ground.
"Walk properly!" Iris shouted at her.
They went out into the clearing by the fairy circle.
There, a tied black stallion was waiting for them.
Iris threw Anastasia over his back like a sack.
She tied her to the saddle so she wouldn't slip off.
And even if she did, she would drag her behind her.
A whimper rang through her body that didn't come out.
"You can be glad you're getting a ride, I could pull you behind the horse."
Iris mounted her horse and they set off for their destination.
They were headed for the rebel hideout. Jace had never told her where it was, but she wasn't stupid.
She knew where he disappeared to and where he always came from.
The cave at Devil's Peak seemed logical as the only place they could hide.
Like many mysterious places, it was said that people got lost there.
People were afraid to go there. And those who had the courage to go near the place talked about the lights that glowed there at night and the whispers carried on the breeze.
The perfect hideout for someone who didn't want to be found.
A faint light flickered between the trunks of trees in the distance.
They were getting closer. Rocks pierced the forest floor.
Moss grew on them. Ferns grew in the crevices.
They dismounted. They had to continue higher among the rocks.
While Iris continued fearlessly forward, Anastasia flinched at every quiet sound of the forest. An owl hooted.
Something rustled in the leaves. They heard voices.
They grew stronger with each step, like the brightness of the light.
"Who are you?" they pointed their swords at them.
"I'm Iris. You've probably heard of me before," she said, ignoring the blades dangerously close to their throats. "I've come to see Jace ."
The rebels exchanged confused looks. As if they had no idea who Jace was. Then he came running towards them.
"Iris?" the shock was reflected in his face. "How did you find this place?"
"Deduction," she replied. "I also brought a gift."
She pushed Anastasia forward. She fell to her knees. The rebels recognized her immediately, cheering enthusiastically. They invited Iris to sit with them by the fire. Jace did not seem thrilled.
"How did you get her out of the palace, Miss Iris?" the Rebel commander asked her.
"I don't reveal my tricks," she replied with a mischievous smile.
"But I'd like to find out. We've been watching the palace for months and haven't found an unguarded way in. And now, there are more soldiers guarding it than usual. Tell me, how did you do it?"
"The Magician's Secret."
"You are a mystery, Miss Iris. It's no wonder Jace fell head over heels in love with you. But he mentioned that you don't exactly agree with our mission. So why did you bring your stepsister to us?"
"Are you interrogating me?" Iris gave him a questioning look.
"No, I'm just curious," the rebel commander replied.
The rebels sitting around them listened attentively. They were also interested in the answer.
"I'm not leaving her with you permanently. I have other plans for my stepsister. But I need to hide her somewhere where no one will look for her."
"What are your plans for her?"
Oh, so many questions. She now understood why Luc disliked it so much.
"It's none of your business."
"What are you so tense about, Jace?" one of the rebels threw an arm around his shoulders. "Are you nervous about your girlfriend?"
"We're not dating," he objected.
"She definitely doesn't seem as nice as you told us about her," said another rebel with a smirk on his lips.
"That's because I'm not," Iris said.
"Is that why her dress is covered in blood?" Jace gave her a judgmental look.
"Let's just say I played a bit." Iris shrugged indifferently. "Since when do you care about my stepsister's well-being?"
"That demon changed you," he told her.
"Demon?"
The rebels stood up in fear and jumped away from them as if they had been burned. They looked around the shadows as if bloodthirsty monsters would jump out of them at any moment. They exchanged frightened glances, silently demanding an answer, but neither of them gave them one.
"Don't you want to talk in private, Jace? You're scaring your friends."
They moved away from the rebels, their gazes piercing them like sword blades. They left them far behind, out of sight or hearing. Iris sat down on the cool stone. Jace leaned against the rock wall, his fierce gaze fixed on her. His eyes reflected worry.
"I don't remember you like this, Iris. You were always warmhearted and kind."
"I'm done with that," she interrupted. "Mother was wrong. Kindness is useless. You'll only end up being used."
"That demon did that to you? Luc?" he said his name with disgust. "He used you and turned you into a heartless monster?"
"Ouch! That hurt." With a mischievous smile, she clutched her heart as if it had really hurt her.
"Sorry."
"But the truth is, it's always been me. That monster has always lived inside me. Luc just showed me who I really am."
"You're not like that, Iris. I know you, and I know this isn't you."
"You only know my good side, Jace. You know nothing about the darkness in me. I enjoyed stabbing her again and again. I wanted her to bleed. I wanted her to scream in pain."
"You're right. I don't really know you like that. If this is you, Iris, the demonic witch, then I refuse to help you. Take Anastasia and leave."
"You tried to kidnap her not long ago," she reminded him.
"I don't give a damn. This is all pointless. We'll never defeat the Monarchy. I'm done. It just ruined my life. And I don't want to get involved in your demon business either."
"It's just one demon," not mentioning that he ruled them all before her ancestor dethroned him. "And I'd like to remind you that I told you long ago to finish off the rebels."
"Yes, you were right."
"If I can break the enchantment, I could convince the prince to give you mercy, Jace. You will be free."
"You would do that for me?" he wondered.
"As I promised. I've planned this from the very beginning, Jace.
I won't let you be executed. But I just need a little more time.
And to do that, I need you to watch over Anastasia.
Stepmother is getting suspicious. She suspects something.
If anyone found out the truth, it would be the end of everything.
But Luc gave me a book. It's an old grimoire of the first witch of my bloodline.
I think I can find the answer to what I'm looking for there. I just need time."
"That demon again. I thought you had him imprisoned."
"He's trapped. Still."
"And the grimoire? You're up to your neck in it, Iris. This won't end well."
"I ruined the dress. I tried a spell that would cleanse the prince of any enchantment and a tea that might at least bring back his memories of me. Nothing has worked so far, but I'm sure I'll find a way. I just need a little more time, Jace. Can you give me some, please?"
Jace hesitated. Finally, he nodded and agreed. It was his only chance to gain freedom. He didn't want to spend the rest of his life on the run, and he didn't feel like hanging.