Chapter 42
Cillian
“Well, this is one of the more awkward dates I’ve ever been on,” Marsten said from beside me on Ceri’s couch, her father sitting in a chair by the crackling fire, staring at it with an absent look in his eyes.
“This isn’t a date,” I said.
As soon as Ceri had disappeared, I’d come here.
I’d wanted to be the one to tell Mr. Morgane myself.
He’d taken it about as well as I’d expected, breaking down as I’d held him and assured him it would be okay.
He’d finally stopped crying, but now he was sitting in his chair, just silent, staring.
I promised Ceri I’d take care of him, and I already felt like I was fucking this up.
If I couldn’t even do this, how could I convince Ceri that we could be together?
That we could weather any storm that came our way.
I reached over and patted Mr. Morgane’s leg, but he didn’t move a muscle. “It’s going to be okay,” I said. “Ceri is going to be okay. Morton assured us she isn’t hurt or in danger.”
Marsten waved his hand in the air. “Just in an undisclosed location.”
I cut him a sharp look. Not helping, Marsten.
For some reason, he’d decided to come along.
“Undisclosed?” Mr. Morgane put a hand to his head. “Oh. Oh, Ceri.”
“We’ll find her. I will find her.”
“But how?” Mr. Morgane’s mahogany eyes, the same shade as Ceri’s, met mine. “Your royal guards, your council . . . everyone has been working to find the other contestants since these trials started.”
“You’d be surprised how determined a man in love can be.” Marsten patted me on the knee. “Cillian won’t rest until he finds Ceri and brings her back.”
At that, Ceri’s father stiffened. “Did you just say in love?”
I pressed my lips together and shot Marsten another death glare, then turned my gaze back to Mr. Morgane, who was still staring at me with this odd expression on his face.
“Well, that was supposed to be private information,” I said.
“And Ceri and I wanted to tell you together”—I elbowed Marsten—“at the appropriate time, but yes. We admitted our feelings for each other.”
He threw up his arms. “Finally. Took you long enough. I thought I’d be dead before it happened.”
Marsten guffawed at that.
“I—what? You knew?” I asked.
Mr. Morgane’s lips twitched. “Son, everyone knew.”
“Well, except him and Ceri.”
“Oh, they knew too,” Mr. Morgane said. “They were just in denial.”
“That’s a good point,” Marsten said.
I rubbed my temples. “You’re not upset about this? I’m high prince, you know.”
“You’re Ceri’s,” her father said, making it sound so simple. “And I know that you’ll always take care of her no matter what. If you say you’ll find her, then I believe you.”
That was a lot of pressure. “I wish I knew where to start. There’s clearly more to these trials than what we’re seeing. I don’t think it’s about finding a queen for me.”
“Ouch. Here I was thinking you were ready to sweep me off my feet and ride off into the sunset.” Marsten flipped his hair over his shoulder. “Just like in my book.”
“What book?” I asked, tired and frustrated.
“The one I won in my trial.” Marsten grabbed the book, which lay beside him, and held it in the air.
I hadn’t thought about what the contestants had been trying to find during this competition. I’d been so wrapped up in Ceri’s disappearance that I’d hardly thought about anything.
Mr. Morgane let out a soft laugh. “I used to read that to Ceri and Brea.”
I stiffened. He never talked about Brea or his late wife. Never uttered their names.
He swallowed thickly, and he must’ve noticed my shock because he said, “Margaret has been visiting a lot, telling me so many stories, and, well, it’s made me want to tell some stories of my own.
She delights in hearing them. I’ve tried so hard not to think about Ceri’s mother or sister.
I don’t know what I’ve been afraid of, exactly.
That thinking about them would send me falling into a despair I couldn’t get out of, that I’d have to be drugged again, I guess. ”
I flinched at his use of the word, missing the heartstopper for just a moment before I reminded myself that it had almost killed me.
“I didn’t want to put Ceri through that, so I did my best to shut it all out. But a funny thing happened when I started telling Margaret stories about them.”
“What’s that?” I asked.
He gave the smallest hint of a smile. “I felt more like myself than I have in a long time. It was like I found pieces of my heart that have been missing for so long. The pieces are fractured. I don’t think they’ll ever mend completely, but at least I have them back.
At least I can remember my fierce little Brea and my beautiful wife, and I can be happy that I got the time I did with them.
” He sniffled, nodding. “Ceri will be proud, I think.”
“She’ll be so proud,” I said. “And she’ll love to listen to your stories along with Margaret.”
“Yes,” Mr. Morgane said. “Yes, I think she will.”
Marsten sniffed and wiped a tear from his cheek. “Well, that was ridiculously sweet.” His voice broke. “I hope I find a love like the one you had with your wife one day. Like the one you have with Ceri.”
Mr. Morgane leaned back, eyeing Marsten. “I have a feeling you will. At least if Margaret’s gossip about a certain guard having his eye on you is true.”
Marsten’s mouth dropped open.
I raised a brow. “Which guard?”
Mr. Morgane shook his head. “Oh no. I’m not giving away names. I don’t partake in the gossip. I just listen.”
He mimicked locking his mouth and throwing away the key.
“Well played, Mr. Morgane,” Marsten said. “Now I have the perfect excuse to get to know all the handsome guards and find my secret admirer.” He waggled his eyebrows.
I stared at the book in Marsten’s lap. “I don’t think I ever read it.” I gestured to it.
“Excuse me?” Marsten picked it up. “This is one of the most wholesome stories, one of the most beloved children’s tales, and you’re telling me you’ve never read it?”
“He has a point,” Mr. Morgane mumbled.
“Okay, what’s it about, then?” I asked. Maybe there would be some clue hidden within the story about Ceri, her whereabouts.
The thought entered my head before I could stop it. It seemed ridiculous, so far-fetched it couldn’t be possible, but I was desperate and had no idea where else I could possibly begin to look for her.
“I’m glad you asked.” Marsten crossed one ankle over the other. “It’s about a woman made of stone.”
“That’s it?” I said.
“I’m not finished,” he said. “Anyway, this woman is in a town square, a statue people pass every day. And every day in that square, so much happens. Betrothals, first kisses, first fights, even a marriage ceremony. The statue sees it all.”
“So it’s sentient?” I was already losing interest. I lived in a sentient castle and dealt with all sorts of sentient creatures. Frankly, I was growing tired of all of it. Especially when said sentient castle had taken the love of my life.
Marsten bobbed his head. “Kind of. More like she could see and hear everything happening around her. She was frozen in time. Unable to move or speak.”
“This is a children’s story?” My eyes bugged. “This is awful. I’m going to have nightmares about getting turned to stone.”
“There’s a child who visits the statue every day and tells the statue about her day. She’s an outcast and often gets made fun of by other kids because she’s a little odd.”
“Well, I suppose that’s a little sweeter,” I said.
Marsten put a hand to his heart. “It’s so sweet. This little girl visits this lonely statue every day, not knowing the statue can hear her. She pours her heart out some days, and other days she tells funny stories or sings.”
I leaned forward, feeling a little more invested. “So how does it end?”
Marsten raised his finger. “If I were Morton, I’d make you read the book.”
I shot him an annoyed look.
“Lucky for you, I have no qualms about spoiling books. The little girl starts bringing the statue flowers, jewelry, decorating it. Other children begin to notice, and the teasing gets worse.” Marsten pauses.
“One day, the little girl arrives and finds the other children with hammers and chisels trying to break the statue apart.”
“What?” I looked between Marsten and Mr. Morgane. “Are you serious?”
Marsten ignored my outburst. “The little girl tried to get to the statue, but the other children held her back, slowly chipping away at the stone while she had to watch.”
“Are you trying to thoroughly depress me?” I asked.
Marsten held up a finger. “But the little girl was determined and broke away from her assailants. She ran up to the statue and flung herself toward it, clutching it and refusing to let go, her body blocking it. The other children continued to laugh while the little girl’s tears streamed down her cheeks.
She was so overcome with emotion, so happy she’d saved her statue, that she reached up and pressed a kiss to its stone cheek. ”
“That’s . . . nice?” I said, ready to be done with this story that clearly wasn’t going to tell me how to find Ceri and bring her back.
“And the statue came to life.”
“What?” I hadn’t been expecting that part. “The statue came to life?”
Marsten nodded. “It turns out the statue was a woman who’d gone missing years ago. A woman everyone believed was dead. The little girl became a town hero for bringing the woman back with true love’s kiss and she finally found belonging in this small town.”
“That’s a nice story,” I said. “But I don’t understand what it has to do with the trials or the disappearing contestants.” Nothing. It had nothing to do with either.
“A nice story?” Marsten jabbed a thumb at me as he looked at Mr. Morgane. “Can you believe him?”
Mr. Morgane just shook his head with a small chuckle. “That story used to make my girls cry. Every single time I read it. I even teared up a few times.”
“I told you to read it,” Marsten said, and I rolled my eyes.
“You gave a great summary. Very emotional. Very heartwarming. But I’m a little preoccupied with how that’s going to help me find Ceri, with why Castle wanted you to find that book.”
My mind tried to work through the strange maze Castle had laid out for us, but nothing about any of this made sense.
Maybe it didn’t mean anything after all, and this really was about finding a queen for me.
But Marsten? Meera? They were my choices?
There was no way either were who Castle had in mind to lead this city. I shoved a hand through my hair.
“Careful, you’re messing up those gorgeous strands.” Marsten cocked his head. “Actually, your hair somehow looks better. How do you do that?”
Normally a comment like that would have made my day, but not today.
I stood. “Maybe I just need to start searching. Get out and walk.”
Marsten wrinkled his nose. “That actually sounds like a terrible idea.”
Mr. Morgane nodded in agreement.
“Well, I don’t know what else to fucking do! I’m losing my mind. I need to find her.”
Just then the door burst open, and Ceri stood there, chest heaving, eyes wide.