Chapter 33
I sat hunched up against the bedhead, my arms wrapped around a pillow, my eyes trained on the window. Greta was snoring softly. I had switched my tea with hers, drinking neither, and she had fallen asleep quickly after finishing it. There was definitely something in the tea, but whether it was a drug to keep my memories from me or just to ease my discomfort, I was not yet sure.
Things had absolutely been different since trying to block out the sights, sounds, and smells that had filled the room. I couldn’t say I had regained my memories, but I was starting to see things differently. The room no longer felt rich and lush. It felt frayed around the edges, the fabrics not quite as refined, the furnishings not so luxurious. Even the bed felt uncomfortable, the mattress lumpy, and the bedclothes scratchy.
I could just be imagining it all. It could be a side-effect of not taking the tea which had helped me recover from the pain I had been in. It could just be my suspicious brain.
I looked over at Greta and felt that stab in my heart again. Had she really betrayed me? Or did she do it out of love for me? Had she been concerned about the intruders and alerted Elil? I didn’t know what she had told him beyond what he’d said that morning. Greta had obviously informed him I wasn’t eating. I didn’t even know how she’d done it. The maid hadn’t left my side all day. The only way I could think of was that she’d sent a note down with the breakfast tray.
It didn’t matter now. The damage was done. Elil had watched me all afternoon. Making sure I drank my tea but at least giving me the option of not eating. My lie about the wedding dress must have struck a chord in him. He had informed me he would schedule a dress fitting for tomorrow to make sure there were no problems.
I managed to get rid of every cup of tea he pressed into my hands, and I feared for the health of the plant who had been subject to my discarded ‘medicine’.
Now I was hungry and too scared to fall asleep. Paranoia crowded in on me, and I didn’t know who to trust. One thing was certain, the intruder had not been entirely lying. I had been drugged. The question that remained was…why?
A noise alerted me to a presence just before the door slowly opened, and a dark-clad leg entered the room. There were two of them again. The dark-skinned one went to Greta, but I held up a hand.
‘Don’t wake her,’ I whispered.
The leader, or at least the one I assumed was the leader, lifted an eyebrow. ‘You don’t trust her?’
I shook my head. She nodded and shared a glance with the other intruder who stood beside Greta but didn’t touch her.
‘I see you are more yourself tonight, Princess,’ the woman said, removing her wolf-pelt mask. ‘Do you remember anything?’
I shook my head. ‘Not really,’ I replied. ‘Just snatches of images that make no sense to me.’ I tilted my head. ‘I know you, don’t I? Or at least, I used to know you.’
‘I am Cor,’ the woman replied. ‘And this is Sim. We shared a room for three months, so I think it is safe to say we know each other.’
Cor. I rolled the name around in my head. It felt familiar, but I didn’t have any memory to attach it to. I looked at the other one, Sim, and she lowered her mask and smiled at me. That I remembered. That smile, although I still couldn’t place it.
‘What is going on?’ I hissed urgently.
Cor sighed and ran a hand over her head. ‘I don’t know.’
‘Elil said my mother kidnapped me and planned to kill me and eat my heart.’ I screwed my face up at the very thought of it. ‘All because of the mirror? But the mirror…it doesn’t do what he said it does.’ That much I knew.
My memories of the time from when I was kidnapped might be gone, but I still had my memories from before. I knew the mirror didn’t declare who was the most beautiful in the kingdom. It was ridiculous to even think it would. What use would that be? And yet…when Elil had told me, I’d believed him. Why? I knew it wasn’t true…
‘He doesn’t know what the mirror does,’ I said to myself.
Cor slowly shook her head. ‘No,’ she said. ‘Few people do. They are spreading rumours about the mirror and your mother to justify taking her and Parisar prisoner.’
‘Parisar…’
The name crossed my tongue like a caress, and the sound of it wrapped around me like a hug. I knew that name. I knew that man.
‘Parisar,’ I said again, looking up at Cor. ‘Who—’
Cor rolled her eyes. ‘He has been in your life forever,’ she said. ‘And you don’t remember him?’
I frowned. I still had my memories from before, but there was no Parisar…
I shook my head slowly. ‘Is he the one who took me?’
‘He rescued you,’ she replied, crossing her arms. ‘Rescued you and kept you hidden until…’
‘Until what?’
‘Until someone found you and poisoned you. We still don’t know how that happened.’
‘None of this makes any sense.’
‘It will,’ Cor said, crossing to the window, Sim on her heels. ‘Keep trying to avoid as many of the stimulants as you can. Your memory will return, and so will I.’
Before I could ask when she would return, she was gone. I slapped the bed with my hands and felt the bag she’d left behind. I opened it, and the smell of bread wafted out. My stomach growled.
I should have probably been more cautious about eating food left by a stranger, but I was too hungry to care. I did have enough sense to not eat it all. I didn’t know when Cor would be back, and if I couldn’t eat any of the castle meals, then I would slowly starve to death. I ate one of the bread rolls and drank from the water skin before stowing them both under the bed where I was sure Greta wouldn’t find them.
I slid down to a lying position. I needed to sleep, but I was concerned about the bed. I couldn’t sleep on the floor and not raise suspicion in Greta, so I shuffled to the very edge of the mattress hoping that if there were any stimulants in it, they were in the middle. I closed my eyes and took a slow breath. Sleep was slow to come, and while I waited, I planned.
He smiled and reached his hand out to me. I wanted to take it, but I couldn’t move. I was frozen. He chuckled.
‘Come on, Snow,’ he said. ‘Take my hand.’
Grey eyes crinkled at the edges, and his full lips curved in a smirk. A dark curl fell forward over his brow, and I wanted to smooth it away. His cheeks were speckled with stubble, and the memory of it rasping against my palms made my skin prickle with goosebumps. Still my hands stayed at my sides. I was paralysed, unable to move toward him; unable to run away.
‘Princess,’ he said, his smile dropping and his eyes now searching mine, those perfectly sculpted eyebrows furrowing. ‘We need to go. We need to leave before—’
He broke off and looked over his shoulder. I looked too, but there was nothing but darkness. When he turned back to me, he looked frightened. It was not an emotion I was used to seeing on his face. I’d seen his stoicism and his laughter and even his anger, but never fear.
‘Damn it,’ he swore and then started to fade away right before my eyes.
I opened my mouth to call out to him but didn’t know what to say. Who was this man? I knew him, but I had forgotten him.
‘Snow,’ he said one last time, his voice full or sadness, before he disappeared completely.
‘Parisar!’
I sat up, panting. Greta was beside me in an instant, her face crinkled with worry.
‘I’m okay,’ I said, shooing her fussing hands away from me. ‘It was just a dream.’
She stepped away, averting her eyes, and I relaxed back against the pillows. It was a dream, but was the man real? Was that…Parisar?
Why were my memories still so messed up? The man in the dream, I definitely knew him—so why couldn’t I remember him? Why couldn’t I remember Cor and Sim? If what Cor said was true, this Parisar had taken me, under orders from the queen, but not for the reason Elil had said. Not to kill me, but to protect me. To hide me.
‘Mistress,’ Greta said, holding out a cup of tea to me.
I took it and pretended to drink, expecting Greta to turn away, but she didn’t. She kept her eyes on me.
‘What?’ I asked.
Greta didn’t reply, but she didn’t look away either.
‘When is the dress maker coming?’ I asked. ‘I have a fitting for my wedding dress today, don’t I?’
‘Soon,’ Greta said. ‘So you need to drink that and then eat before she comes.’
‘I am not eating before she comes,’ I replied, feigning drinking again, hoping Greta would turn away so I could dispose of it. ‘What if I bloat?’
Those words had never crossed my lips before, and I hoped they never would again. It was all I could think of to get out of eating the breakfast from the kitchen. Yesterday, Greta had helped me in my attempt to avoid the palace food, today she would not. I knew she didn’t trust me, but the feeling was mutual. She had betrayed my trust first, so I didn’t feel bad about drugging her last night—drugging her with tea that was meant for me. That was proof right there that the tea was more than just medicinal.
‘At least drink the tea,’ she said, her voice more direct and demanding than I’d ever heard it. ‘Prince Elil will be here soon, and if you haven’t finished the tea—’
She stopped abruptly, covering her mouth, but not turning away. She watched me, urging me to drink.
‘What will Prince Elil do if I don’t drink the tea?’ I asked, swirling the liquid in the cup and almost spilling it.
Greta dived forward, trying to catch the cup so the contents didn’t leak. She looked genuinely afraid, and I stopped, narrowing my eyes at her.
‘What did Prince Elil say?’ I asked, my voice low and tight.
‘He is just worried about you,’ she replied, standing and straightening her apron. You have been sick for a long time, and he is worried you will relapse.’
‘Relapse? I thought it was poison? You can’t relapse from a poisoning unless you are poisoned again.’ I said the words out loud, although I probably should have kept them to myself. Greta’s face drained of colour, and she swallowed.
Had Elil threatened to poison me?
That couldn’t be right. He loved me. He was going to marry me. Why would he threaten to poison me?
‘The tea,’ she said. ‘The tea has a preventative in it. In case someone tries to poison you again.’
I looked at the tea in question and raised an eyebrow. It was a convenient excuse, but if it were true then there would be no need for tasters to check food served to royals. So why wasn’t everyone using it? Why had my father died if this preventative existed?
I sucked in a breath, the cup slipping accidentally from my hand as I clutched my chest. Pain like a starburst radiated out from my heart, causing me to curl in on myself. My father was dead. My father had died while I had been asleep. I had yet to mourn him. I had been spending my days in a stupor, completely forgetting that my father was dead and that he had died alone, and that Eudaimonia was without a ruler. My mother was imprisoned, and my father was dead, and I was…here.
‘Why am I here?’ I asked, my voice raspy as I struggled to breathe with the pain. ‘Why am I not at home with my people?’
‘You were sick—’
I flung the covers back and climbed out of bed. I threw open the closet doors and searched through the gowns. I needed mourning clothes. How could I be getting married when my father just died?
‘Mistress,’ Greta cried as I started to tear clothes from hangers and toss them to the floor. All the gowns were overly ornamental, and all were in muted, pastel shades. Some were even floral. I hated them all. These were not my clothes. This was not who I was. I needed to leave this place. I needed to go home and take my place on my father’s seat. Eudaimonia needed me.
‘Guards!’ Greta called, and I stopped to look at her.
She looked petrified. She looked at me like I was a wild animal, and perhaps I was. What kind of queen abandoned her people? And I was a queen. Now that my father was dead, I was the queen.
‘What’s this?’ Elil asked, striding into the room and looking around with a sneer of disgust. ‘What are you doing, Princess?’
‘Queen,’ I said, straightening my back and looking down my nose at him…well, as much as I could when he was taller than me. ‘And I am going home to my people. They need me.’
‘Queen?’ he smirked cruelly. ‘Your people have abandoned you. They don’t want you or anything to do with you. Your monarchy has fallen, and you are only alive because I saved you.’
I blinked, not wanting to believe him but…
I looked at Greta, but she refused to meet my eyes. Was it true, then? Had the people rejected me?
I sank down into the mess of gowns. Tears dripped onto my hands, and I felt the pain in my chest again.
‘It’s okay, Princess,’ Elil said, crouching down beside me. He reached out and tilted my head to look at him. The jewels in his circlet sparkled, and I could smell his scent. His other hand took one of mine, and he traced a pattern on the palm. ‘Once we are married, we will return to Eudaimonia and reclaim your throne.’ His voice was soothing; reassuring.
I blinked languidly. There was someone screaming in my head, but I ignored it. My chest no longer ached. My tears dried up. My breathing calmed. I looked down at the gowns spread around me.
‘Oh dear,’ I said, my voice feeling odd. ‘I seemed to have made a bit of a mess.’
Elil patted my hand and then helped me to my feet. ‘It is quite alright,’ he assured me. ‘I know you were only frustrated because you couldn’t find the perfect gown to wear to greet me.’
‘Yes,’ I said, even as the voice in my head continued to scream. ‘I wanted to look just right.’
Elil smiled benevolently. ‘Greta,’ he said, not looking away from me. ‘Why don’t you help the princess dress in the new gown I bought for her?’
‘Of course, Your Majesty.’
‘Drink this,’ he said, pressing a teacup into my hand. ‘It will make you feel better.’
I took the cup and drained it. He was right. I already felt better.