6. Five Year Plan #2
“It’s not—I’m not the only one she fooled. The prince says none of the other guards—”
“The prince?” Gladys stopped, a tray of tea hovering inches from the surface of the table. “You have an in with the prince? Of Evergale?”
Aaryn’s lips parted and closed, confusion overwhelming her. “An in? You sound downright conspiratorial.”
“Aaryn,” she snapped, and the tray clapped to the table, the ceramic pot scraping. “If you want to stay at that castle, you must endear yourself to him. Make him fall in love with you, instead of pandering after some silly guard!”
Aaryn's mouth dropped open, and she floundered. “But, Mama, I don’t—“
“It doesn’t matter if it is genuine or not.
What matters is that you stay safe, and there is no place safer than in that castle, you understand me?
” She placed both hands on Aaryn’s shoulders.
She could almost accept it for the comfort she’d come here seeking.
“You don’t want me to lose this cottage, do you? ”
Aaryn wanted to shrink as she admitted, “No, I don’t want that.”
“Then you spin back around, get on that beautiful horse you know we’d never be able to afford, and gallop right back to that castle, into the prince’s arms.”
Aaryn stared up at her mother, who was wearing a long, colorful dress in a pretty fabric they once could’ve only dreamed of. Aaryn was not the only one who had gone hungry in her early years.
“Can we finish tea first?” Aaryn asked, though now her stomach turned.
Gladys backed away and took her seat, looking prim and proper. “Of course. I’m not heartless. Sugar?”
A commodity they'd never been able to indulge in before Aaryn had become Tethered. “No, just honey, please.”
Her mother spooned some pearlescent sugar in her own tea cup before pushing the honey jar in her direction. The ceramic warmed the tips of Aaryn's fingers as she blew on the steaming drink.
The silence was heavy and unbearable, but Aaryn did not fill it, wrestling with a tide of emotions. Gladys knew how to fill a silence, though.
“Things are good here,” she said. “Just the other day, Mary and I were out for a walk, and you would not believe what she told me.”
Aaryn raised a single brow to urge her to continue and swallowed her tongue—and the tea—as her mother prattled on about how delightful life was in the cottage.
Aaryn listened politely, though she didn't find delight in the gossip and secrets like Rose did.
She nodded and hummed in the correct places, but drank her tea quickly so she could escape, lest the frustration in her chest search for an outlet.
“I’d better return," she eventually announced, not soon enough.
“Ooh, yes, you’ve got to get back to that prince!” Gladys clapped excitedly and stood, walking Aaryn to the door, and no further. Once she stepped outside, Aaryn turned to stare at her mother and searched for any warmth, any comfort.
Gladys sighed, leaning against the doorway.
“Safe travels, dear. Do try to be in a better mood the next time you come see me, alright? Come with better news as well—of your engagement to the prince, I hope.” She waggled her eyebrows, and Aaryn wondered if her mother had listened to any of the words she’d told her.
“Of course,” Aaryn agreed, and turned her back abruptly, so she didn’t lash out.
By the time Aaryn was back on her horse, the door to the cottage was shut.
She shook her head as she directed the horse back through the rolling hills, mind reeling and heart racing.
Did her mother really care so little? Or maybe she cared too much—about the wrong thing.
Aaryn scoffed bitterly. As if seducing anyone was on her mind, let alone the prince, of all people!
Aaryn’s entire purpose, chosen for her by the Great Dragon himself, was on the line. She was a Tethered without a dragon! A fish without water! A farm without crops!
And all her mother cared about was maintaining her status.
The hopelessness she’d felt so long ago raged in her chest, just like when her mother was promising to marry her off, despite her age, when Aaryn had been dashing through the rain to attend the lottery, her last hope before a life of wifely duties.
As the castle finally came into view, Aaryn wanted to scream.
Instead she led the horse to the stables and thanked the stable hand before returning on shaky legs to her room.
Upon her entry to the castle, the guard she’d met the night before appeared, and followed her.
“Stationed at my door again tonight?” Aaryn asked.
She dipped her head, armor clinking. “As I’ve been directed to, Tethered.”
“Thank you for your diligence,” Aaryn said, and paused with her hand on her door. “If you hear a muffled scream, just know it is me. Into my pillow.”
The guard narrowed her eyes. “Okay…”
“I’ve just returned from visiting my mother.”
“Ah,” she said with a nod, understanding filling her features. “If you do require assistance, shall I listen for a less muffled scream?”
Aaryn chuckled, but it was lacking mirth. “Yes.”
“Good night, then, Tethered Aaryn.”
“To you as well,” she said, and closed her door.
Part of her wondered if the prince would check up on her again. If he did, she’d have the chance to ask him why the news of Starspark had not been shared with the kingdom.
In the meantime, she wouldn’t have to worry about her mother telling anyone about Thea or Starspark. She was far more concerned with her cottage and the neighborhood gossip. The last thing she would do was willingly admit that it was her daughter who’d had her dragon taken from beneath her nose.
Frustration bubbled up again inside her, nestling behind her breastbone and expanding—
Aaryn stared down at the duvet and blankets that made up her bed, and breathed. Not that it helped, but it gave her something to concentrate on instead of the thrumming pain.
With every draw in and out, it quelled the rage within her, bit by bit.
Aaryn did what she did best and buried the feelings deep, shoving them aside to deal with later.
Maybe she did not need to scream into her pillow after all.