20. Chapter 20
Michaela
I was still unsure after an hour. The thick wood certainly played with my mind. Towering trees blocked out the sun almost entirely, casting a spooky shadow over everything. It didn’t help that, unbeknownst to us, Esme took the legends seriously. Her superstitions kept her close to us, literally hanging off my coat. Her intention was to use me as a human shield whenever feasible, rather than as a bodyguard.
To add to the fun, the dense forest created an echo chamber for Dagny’s wailing, making it sound far away and close all at once. I stopped beside a tree and rested on the rough bark as we tried to get our bearings. Another chilling wail sliced through the air. Dagny was fantastic at her role.
I stopped myself short as another thought occurred.
Geez, I hoped it was Dagny.
“Any chance someone can explain a few of these cultural terms? For example, snoods?” I glanced between the two of them, hoping for compassion and mercy.
It was no surprise when Esme rolled her eyes and averted her gaze. But Sadie nodded thoughtfully. “Eonix are the spirits that haunt these woods, created by the evil deeds of the world. They guard their secrets in the caves, only leaving to whisper them in the ears of sleeping victims.”
“That’s why you have dreams about the ones you love. The Eonix are telling you their secrets.” Esme’s eyes darted from side to side as though spilling the secret would bring their wrath.
“And a snood,” Sadie continued, “is what happens when an Eonix takes possession of anyone who trespasses in the forest. The human becomes a host and the Eonix is called a snood. They work all sorts of mischief—“
“Hiding keys,” Esme offered, “ruining relationships, causing traffic.” She frowned. “Losing the remote for the television.”
To me, it sounded like they were blaming any misfortune on things they couldn’t see. Maybe it was human nature. When my grandfather lost anything around the house, my grandmother always claimed: The communists took it. It made for an interesting birthday one year when he lost her present and then told her it was those communists again. Clearly, humans in every culture were bad at taking responsibility for their own mistakes.
A stiff breeze tore through the labyrinth of trees, pressing us back with force, seconds before it disappeared to nothing. Esme whimpered behind me like a nervous dog in a thunderstorm.
“I think we should go this way.” Esme tugged my coat. “Everything is darker that way and it’s nothing but caves and rock walls.”
I shook my head and pointed at the area ahead of us. “No, look; there are footprints. It’s all disturbed.”
“The Eonix want you to believe that. Then they pull you into their caves and carve out your soul for soup.”
What freaky fairytales did these people believe? Some of the original versions of our mainstream classics were pretty twisted, but never once had an evil stepmother made soul soup.
“No, Michaela is right.” Sadie nodded toward the prints. “We’re going this way.”
“It’s dark.” Esme planted her feet and shook her head. “I won’t go. Grandma told me stories about the Eonix that live here.” Fear drove her backward. “I’ll check this way. I’ll call you if I find it.”
Before I could count to five, she’d started running for the forest entrance, looking for release from her superstitions. But Sadie made no move to follow, and I felt the need to keep her safe. Sadie wasn’t big, but a soul like hers could feed an Eonix for a week at least.
“So,” I kicked at some of the powdery snow and got rewarded with a sparkling shower in a rare beam of light, “you know all the names for things and whatever. Does that mean you’ve played this game before?”
“Sneaky Snoods?” She bent to check within a tree’s branches for the flag. “Not with royals, just as kids playing around. Loads of times.”
“So, you leave out the kiss?” It felt like a relevant question. I tried to imagine if the winner for Freeze Tag got to kiss somebody at the end. On my playground growing up, that would have ended in at least one person being accused of having cooties.
Sadie’s cheeks reddened. “No, we elected other children to play the part of royals.”
“From your reaction,” I couldn’t help but tease her a little, “I wager there’s a story there.”
“Not really.” Sadie resumed walking, acting like she wanted to brush me off. “Just my first kiss.”
“That sounds juicy.” I caught up to her. “What was his name?”
“Tauriq.” Her volume dropped. “He was my first boyfriend.” Sadie turned away. “I thought we’d get married.”
“It didn’t work out?”
“No.” A silent pause gripped the surrounding air. “He’s dead.”
“I’m sorry.” I meant it for more than her loss, but for bringing it up and prying. No wonder she was struggling with Fitz. She’d lost her first love and landed in these crazy circumstances. It had to be overwhelming.
Sadie waved me off and pressed into the darker parts of the woods, following the trail of footprints. “I come from Eshein, the poorest province in Nolcovia. We’re mostly farmers, and some, like me, are apothecaries. We sell most everything to Aclusia Province, our neighbors and the richest of our country.” Her fingers trailed over the trunk of a tree as she passed beneath a low branch. “Eshein feels separate from the rest of Nolcovia. We don’t go to any of the celebrations here in the capital, but we do our own. We don’t leave our province, except for trade, and even then, it’s over the border and back.” She shook her head. “I never should have ended up here. It was a mistake.”
I thought of that first night and the words we’d shared in her doorway. “That’s what you meant the first night. You feel like an outsider here.”
“I think that’s why I gravitate toward you.” Her shoulders bounced once. “You know what it feels like to be close, but not in the room.”
I ducked under the same low branch and then followed her between two trees. She moved faster, her pace quickened by something she saw. She ducked right, then left, shifted a branch, and hardly waited for me to get through it.
“Sadie, what are you—“
“I thought I saw a…” Her feet stopped and she brought a shaky finger up to point. “It’s a snood…”
Skeptical, I squinted through the trees. She wasn’t seeing things. Someone was out there, but as she started scaling a wall, blonde hair tied back in a ponytail, I wasn’t about to believe she was anything but a woman desperate to earn a coveted prize.
“That’s not a snood,” I told Sadie. “Not unless they can shapeshift into Gwen in her red sweater.” I nodded in that direction. “I think she’s moving the flag. Come on.”
We crept through the forest, trying to monitor Gwen’s whereabouts. “A corner of the flag should be showing. You can’t conceal it completely,” Sadie whispered, reassuring both herself and me. “That’s grounds for elimination.”
“Careful.” I glanced ahead enough to see the granite steps that led down the hill were not only dusted in snow, but the exposed, glossy pieces meant ice. We moved slowly, edging down the side of the hill, careful not to alert Gwen or lose sight of her either. Dagny’s shrieks moved closer. Even knowing the tales were nothing but folklore, I didn’t want to be around when she came into sight.
“There it is.” Sadie pointed at a rock face above us where the green flag’s corner poked out of a crevice.
Awesome. The first objective had been completed. Time to put my second plan in motion.
“Go grab it,” I told Sadie. “Then you’ll win.”
Her face paled at the thought. “I’m afraid of heights. I couldn’t.”
The wailing increased, like a circling shark; we were moments away from having our first interaction with a snood. Not that I knew what that meant.
“Fine,” I agreed, eager to get moving, “I’ll get it, but you carry it and say you found it.”
“That’d be a lie.”
“No,” I brought up a finger, “technically, you found it.”
Shuffling feet in the underbrush got my heartbeat on the rise.
“But I lack the courage,” Sadie argued.
A branch snapped behind me. I whirled and caught the tail end of a cameraman trying to get the shot.
“You don’t.” I had to convince Sadie to get the flag. “You earned this. You’re a great captain, you’re decisive and—“
Bushes rustled. I couldn’t wait around forever. Arguing no further, I started climbing. The flag wasn’t far. “It’s not that high,” I said to Sadie as I found my next hand hold and reached for the slip of fabric, “I think you’d—“
“Boo!” Eirene’s voice bounced off the wall as she peered down at us. Sadie’s scream bounced off the trees. A scream burst from me too, but not before I snagged the flag out of its spot. From the ledge above, Eirene laughed at the way I screamed. “You should see your face!”
Like a striking snake, she tore the flag from my hand and got her feet beneath her. Without warning, she started sprinting into the forest.
I jumped down, confused. “She took the flag. Can she do that?”
Wide-eyed, Sadie shrugged. “Snoods do as they please, messing things up, losing stuff, distracting people, and yeah, sometimes they steal the flag and win themselves.”
A deep groan rolled in my chest. “That’s what she’s doing! She’s going back to camp!”
I liked Eirene. She was great, but Fitz didn’t appear attracted to her. I had a moral obligation as royal wingman to kiss-block her and get the flag back to Sadie, a contender I thought had a real chance.
I took Sadie by the shoulders. “I’m going to get the flag. You run back to the start and wait for me. Okay?”
There wasn’t time to wait for her to process or complain. I took off after Eirene, moving through the forest much faster on the way back. Trees blurred as we moved. I stumbled over logs and rocks, but always caught my balance without losing sight of her for too long. Eirene was a jackrabbit, tearing through the forest, unhindered by the woods and its perils.
Desperation fueled crazy ideas. We hit the open ground outside the forest, and I couldn’t let her get any farther.
I veered right, running up a small hill that would give me an advantage. As my toes hit the edge of the short cliff, I launched myself. Arms out on either side like a flying squirrel, but likely with the grace and agility of a hippo, I flew. At least until gravity caught up to me.
Eirene glanced over her shoulder in time to watch me soar full force into her frame. Her eyes widened to saucers as a scream threatened to break free. Our bodies collided, combining our force as we tumbled through the underbrush.
When my body finally stopped moving, I stared up at the clear sky above me, the flag in my grip.
“Blimey, Michaela!” Eirene pushed to her feet again. “Must you always be so American?”
I staggered to my feet. “I swear, it’s not personal.”
A little too smug, I took a step toward the goal and in the next breath, a semi broadsided me.
Okay, no. Not a semi.
A Dagny, working like a linebacker for the Niners. Like a cartoon, I likely had a Dagny-shaped imprint on my rib cage from her impact.
“What are you doing?” I moaned, aching for landing on the forest floor yet again.
Dagny towered over me, backlit by the sun. “I told you. The snoods would hide your shoes. I am a snood, and I will.” Bending, her grip locked around one of my boots. Shocked, I scrambled backward like a crab, but she remained focused on her work. I kicked and shook and fought, but she stayed with it like a bronc rider in the last seconds. With one final jerk, the boot was in her hand.
“Now, I will hide your shoe.” Dagny took off running, leaving me with one boot on and one fuzzy sock between my foot and the snow.
“What is happening?” I had to be dreaming. Any second, I would wake up.
Out of the corner of my eye, Eirene shook her head, preparing to go again. That was the last thing I wanted. Sadie was waiting for me at the finish line. I dug my fingers into the snow and propelled myself to my feet. Over my shoulder, not only Eirene trailed, but Gwen had joined the ranks. I sprinted the best I could in my one boot and fuzzy sock. Every step screamed the lunacy of my situation.
Thud. Thunk. Thud. Thunk.
I went over the hill, searching for Sadie. Fitz waited with the cameramen. As I came into focus, his eyes widened dramatically. Was it my appearance, or was it because I had the flag clutched in my grip? I didn’t have time to analyze. I needed Sadie. This was supposed to be her win.
“You went after it?”
I shook my head out of confusion. “Um, well, no, it was Sadie.” I twisted one way and then the other. With all the fighting and arguing, Sadie had plenty of time to get back here. Fitz still watched me like I needed to explain everything. Sighing, I did my best. “Sadie had it. Eirene stole it. I had to fight off snoody Eirene to get it back, and hey, I think Dagny is possessed. So, there’s that. The little scamp stole my boot.” I pointed at my foot before I picked up my rambling story again. “Do you have witch doctors to help with the Eonix issue, or maybe a snood extractor?” I shook my head. “I mean, that’s beside the point—“
“You have a black eye.” It wasn’t an exclamation. More a statement of fact in case I didn’t know.
“Yeah,” I scoffed, “probably from tackling Eirene. We came down pretty hard. Or maybe when I took the hit from Dagny. She’s not playing around.”
His eyes widened farther, too shocked at first to say anything. “You did all that to win?”
I stopped searching for Sadie and instead took a second to realize my predicament. Four cameras watched me with rapt attention. How did it look that I was willing to physically assault the other contenders to get a kiss from Fitz?
And it was all recorded.
I held the winning flag.
What had I done?
“It’s not my win,” I tried again. “Sadie found it. I was just her… running back. That’s all.”
Fitz still stared at me, absolutely incredulous. “I don’t see Lady Sadira anywhere.” His eyes narrowed. “Are you sure you don’t want to take credit?”
Where did she go? She had a solid head start. My eyes locked on the white pom that adorned the top of Sadie’s hat, all but hidden behind a large black crate near the vans.
“Your Highness, allow me a moment to confer with my teammate.” I didn’t wait for his permission and instead rushed over, one foot getting colder by the second. Sliding around the back of the box, I crouched beside my hiding partner.
“What are you doing? I have it all set up for you.” How could Sadie throw this away? Yes, she had an ex to get over, but Fitz wasn’t just some guy.
“But why?” she asked. “Take him for yourself. It’s clear you are the object of his desire.”
Come again? Me? His desire?
I peeked over the box, only letting my eyes show. Fitz spotted me right away. Both arms went out to his sides, obviously asking what was taking so long. I shook my head, frustrated that my puppet master routine had gone south. Couldn’t people fall in love on command? I sank back down, determined to convince Sadie to listen to me.
“Trust me,” I said to her, “I’m not the one he wants. But you could be.”
Her eyes watched me, anxious and round. “Come with me? I’m painfully shy.”
“Fine,” I agreed, mostly because the cold had crept up my pant leg. I put the flag in her hand, and we rose to our feet. We walked back to Fitz, arriving about the same time as the others who’d been called back in. As she stopped in front of Fitz, she took a moment to curtsy and extend the flag to him like a gift.
His eyebrows came up, obviously impressed that she apparently knew what to do. Fitz played his part and called her by name. “Lady Sadira, have you braved the forest, outsmarted the snoods, and conquered your foe?”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. It took some doing, but I got her where she needed to be in the end. A good pageant coach never gave up hope, even when her girl was out there hiding behind stage equipment. Really, it all came down to expertise and—
“But, milord.” Sadie’s head popped up, “I couldn’t have done it without Lady Michaela. Her courage and quick wit saved our kingdom.”
Take the win, Sadie. This wasn’t a time to be gracious. This was a time to mack on the prince. Was I the only one who could see it?
Fitz cocked his head to the side, perplexed by her actions. “How irregular. Seems we have two victors.” His palm covered his mouth as he considered it. “I suppose that means I have two kisses to bestow.”
Wait. What?
He took Sadie’s hand and pulled her back to standing. “Lady Sadira, in recognition of your bravery and valor…”
I tuned out the rest. Focusing became impossible. The world spun. I felt faint.
Kiss Fitz?
Hadn’t he learned his lesson with Gwen? He had the power to overrule Sadie’s confession. Why choose to kiss us both? It made no sense.
A voice in the back of my mind had an opinion it refused to keep to itself.
Because he wants to kiss you.
I was just about to tell that voice where she could shove her crazy thoughts when Fitz stepped into my personal bubble and took my hands in his. All eyes were on me, plus two incredibly expensive high-definition cameras that wouldn’t leave me alone. They’d never put mic packs on us, so I wasn’t sure how much they would hear of our conversation, but I was dying to ask him what he was thinking.
“I wager,” Fitz barely whispered, “you are the true victor, aren’t you?”
I gave a quick shake of my head. “Fitz, I can’t be the winner if I’m not playing.”
A flicker of concern crossed his face. “Who said you’re not playing?”
This was the place I was supposed to put words, but nothing would come. I meant I wasn’t in the competition for his heart, but was that what he was referring to? Familiar voices spoke in hushed tones. The Crown Prince was about to kiss the ineligible American. My lips tried to form words, but his fingertips shifted to graze my jaw, silencing me with a rush of butterflies big enough to block out the sun. Plagues of Egypt sized butterflies because this whole thing had to be apocalyptic. That’s what happened when you kissed your best friend, right? The world came off its axis, air sucked out like a vacuum, and hearts everywhere stopped beating.
“Lady Michaela,” his volume stayed low, “in honor of your courage, your ingenuity,” a flicker of a grin danced at the corners of his mouth, “and your indomitable spirit, please accept my token of honor in a kiss.”
This was going to happen.
We were really going to kiss.
I braced myself for the end of all humanity, eyes closed, body tense, but in all honesty, not hating the way his palm cupped my jaw and drew me closer. In fact, as apocalyptic events went, this one was five-star, highly recommended. His other arm slipped around my waist, palm firm against my back, nerves springing to life as if they never could have expected this glorious feeling of—
SPLAT!
Frigid flakes of icy snow snuck down the neckline of my sweater, releasing an unladylike shriek as the snowball slid from my cheek to my chest.
Within seconds, pandemonium broke loose.
Another snowball hit my jacket, then Fitz’s jacket. Happy screams of excitement burst like fireworks as an all-out snowball fight took over. Laughter rose with every strike. Gwen took one from two separate directions at once. Minny’s infectious giggle preceded every snowball she threw. I didn’t know who’d started the war, but it had been years since I’d been able to be a part of one. Not since I was little and Dad used to drive us up to the snow. With determination, he would build a fort on each side of our beloved hill. Meanwhile, Mom and I would gather our weapons, ready for an epic showdown.
Every day was laughter with him. He’d taught me what it was to be treated like a princess. Even though I wasn’t anyone special to anyone else, Dad made me feel like I was the best in the world.
A blur of white brought me out of my thoughts as the attack came from all angles. My stomach hurt from laughing, and poor Corbin had to take cover.
“This suit is suede!” he yelled. “It can’t get wet!”
But Tom and the rest of the producers made no move to stop us. In fact, they were in a flurry, directing cameras, capturing the moment of candid frivolity like it was a gold mine. I didn’t care. For once, it was something I recognized. Something without the heavy weight I’d felt since I’d arrived. It was so oddly… equalizing. As if we’d all gone back to childhood. There were no teams, just the excitement of the game and the thrill of getting the upper hand before losing it to rigid flakes down our necklines. Esme’s mouth opened wide in shock as Dagny dumped handfuls of snow over her head.
“Oh, I’m gonna get you back, Dagny.” Her smile showed none of the arrogance she normally employed, but as she tackled Dagny in the snow she looked happy for the first time. The blur of snowballs kept coming. We’d been in the thick of it for days and letting off a little of the pressure felt too good to stop. I smashed another snowball together and let it fly, not caring who I hit because no one seemed to care. We were kids again, lost in a game where nothing mattered but the fun.
“Hey, Coco!” I snapped around, searching for the only person who knew that name. Fitz pointed at me, grin locked in place. “I’m coming for you!”
My heart leaped in my chest. With a nervous squeal, I turned and started running through the high drifts of snow. Okay, so running wasn’t the right word, because the farther I went, the deeper the snow became.
“Pan in there.”
“Wide-angle shot.”
“Stay with them.”
The commands of the producers faded as I ventured farther away, but Fitz’s laughter came closer. The terrain tipped upward as I climbed a hill to escape him. Well, escape was probably the wrong word too. Like most kids on the playground, my heart was thirty percent escape mode and seventy percent what will happen if he catches me?
At the top of the hill, my pulse pounded with excitement, but the snowball to the back of my head never came like I expected. Instead, his arms wrapped around my center as he tackled me into the snow. A shock of exhilarating cold stole my breath, but our combined momentum tipped us over the other side, rolling us like one of those huge cartoon snowballs down the hill. The world tipped and swirled as we tumbled down the hill. I gripped at the snow, the air, and gave up and clung to Fitz instead, nearly breathless at the seemingly endless whirling motion.
“Oof!” Our bodies slammed against something, but covered in snow, I couldn’t see. Probably a rock, but at least the powder had softened the blow. My chest rose and fell as I tried to catch my breath. The weight on top of me encircled my frame. I opened my eyes to find Fitz staring down at me, concern written all over his three blurry faces.
“Coco? Are you hurt?” His gloved hand touched my face, but he hadn’t considered the snow that had stuck to it, and I gasped as the flakes bit at my cheeks. “Oh, sorry!” Shifting a gloved finger to his mouth, the less blurry version of him bit the glove, then pulled it off his hand. Warmth brushed at the remaining snowflakes and then cupped my jaw to bring back the heat.
The roll-induced vertigo faded as his face bobbed back and forth, two Fitzs slowly merging into one. He watched me, carefully taking inventory of my reaction, possibly checking for brain damage, but that wasn’t my problem. The dizziness had morphed into something new. Something light and heady. His dark eyes looked like a refuge
“Talk to me, Michaela. Say something.”
Something happened when he used my name, my real name. Coco was cute and sweet and it tied into our history, but my name, that was different. It brought attention to the fact that we weren’t kids anymore. We were definitely alone and the powerful magnetism between us refused to be ignored forever. His touch turned delicate, fingers like wisps of promises, moments yet to come, avenues we’d never explored, but his warmth had me aching to try. My skin tingled to life, every nerve calling out for him to come closer, to enact whatever plans waited beyond the boundaries we’d never pushed.
“Coco?” His brow furrowed, but I couldn’t read the exact reason. Perhaps it was concern about a broken bone, or maybe he confronted the same internal conflict, bravely desiring to venture outside our boundaries, like the first footprints after snowfall. But what if he wasn’t? I knew how much a kiss had ruined his relationship with Gwen. Was I willing to take that risk?
“I’m fine,” I whispered. “Just… dizzy.”
“Me too.” He pulled his hand away, but a wandering finger brushed the edge of my bottom lip. I sucked in a breath as shivers ran up my spine. Fitz stumbled to his feet, careful not to bury me any deeper in the snow.
“You’re frozen. Take my hand.” His extended hand reached out to me, and I took it and let him pull me to my feet. It wasn’t easy standing in one boot and one frozen foot in the snow. I lifted it out of the snow and tried to balance on one leg, but I overestimated my agility. Unsteady, his arms caught my waist before I fell again. My heart crept up my throat, leaving me lightheaded and short of breath as my nerves tingled from his touch.
“We better get back.” I looked away, trying to sort through the avalanche of unfamiliar feelings that ravaged my mind and heart. “They’re gonna be looking for you.”
Hooking my chin with his thumb, he brought me back to meet his gaze. “Are you sure you’re unhurt? I never meant to take us over the hill and—“
“I’m fine.” My breathy whisper felt more like a gasp, unable to get out many words around the rush of my emotions. A tremble buzzed through my bottom lip, and his thumb shifted to rub over the top of it. My eyes closed, unable to resist the need to focus on the sensation. A magnetic draw pulsed between us, a deep curiosity to understand what this was and how far it could take us. I opened my eyes, mesmerized by the depth of his eyes and the radiant glow of his touch.
He felt it too.
He had to.
Something this strong sent off shockwaves for at least twenty feet.
“Michaela, I don’t know how to—“
“Over the next hill,” Gwen’s voice carried from the other side, “I saw them take a tumble.”
Fitz’s eyes widened with fear. With cameras everywhere, we had to avoid being caught in a compromising situation. With apology in his eyes, Fitz bent, scooped some snow up, and tossed it at my face, just as the others came over the hill. I squawked at the flash of cold against my warmed skin and formed a snowball as fast as I could. Dagny crested the hill first, my boot in hand like a war trophy. More snowballs launched from the top of the hill as the others joined to engage in the battle.
Though we played for hours, laughing, building snowmen, and eventually drinking cocoa near the vans, my mind kept straying back to that moment, to that unfinished sentence that still hung in the air.
Was it a warning?
A confession?
Nothing at all?
What would he have said if no one interrupted?
What would Fitz have done?