7. Gwen
GWEN
“ S o,” Queen Celandine said in deceptively gentle tones, “you’ve returned.”
She gazed down from her throne, meeting Gwen’s eyes with an outward calm that met Gwen’s own. It unnerved Gwen more than anger would have done. She knew her mother was furious with her. She had to be. And yet nothing in the queen’s manner gave it away.
Celandine had always been the same—at least for all of Gwen’s life. It was the reason Gwen had learned from an early age how to wear a composed mask in her mother’s presence. Celandine didn’t give way to emotion, and she didn’t appreciate others who were unable to do likewise—even small children.
To Gwen it had always made the queen’s cruelties more chilling since they were done without the heat of emotion behind them. Celandine didn’t lash out in anger or pain, hurting people and then regretting it later. Everything she did was done with calm intention.
The queen rose from the throne in one smooth movement, and it took all Gwen’s training not to flinch. Behind her gently upturned lips, she was clenching her teeth as her mother descended the steps toward her.
When the queen wrapped her arms lightly around Gwen and placed her cheek against Gwen’s own, she waited for the poisonous words to be whispered in her ear.
They never came. And in the empty room, there was no need for the queen to hide her malice anyway. Anything she had to say she could have said from the throne.
Gwen frowned slightly, too confused to entirely hold herself in. She had never been as good at the skill as her mother.
“You have returned in excellent time,” her mother almost purred, and for the first time Gwen wondered if her mother’s relief at her reappearance was so great that it outweighed any anger.
A little of the heaviness inside her lifted. If Celandine was that relieved, then the state of the court must be even more fragile than Gwen had realized. Maybe they really could succeed at outwitting the queen.
“I’m sure you’ll understand that your actions have destroyed my trust in you,” Celandine said silkily. “I’m most disappointed. Naturally you will need to be closely watched.”
Gwen’s voluminous dress concealed several deep pockets, and she thrust her hand into one solely so she could clench her fingers into a fist. In the process, they brushed against something round and cool. For a second, Gwen forgot to focus on her mother, her mind scrambling to make sense of the object. Then memory returned in a rush.
The golden apple given to her by the godmother. She had forgotten she still had it in her pocket.
Unease gripped her. She should have left it with Easton or Charlotte. Bringing it into the presence of the queen had been foolhardy. Gwen had seen how much Celandine valued godmother objects. She wouldn’t hesitate to claim it if she discovered what Gwen had in her possession.
Wrapping her hand around the cool sphere, she drew several calming breaths, trying to slow her racing heart before it gave her away. But the movement proved more distracting than settling.
The moment her fingers closed around the apple, her awareness shifted. She couldn’t have said what sense she was using, but she was suddenly gripped by the knowledge that the queen also carried a godmother object in her pocket.
Although she had no memory of seeing it in the queen’s display room, she could easily call up an image of it in her mind’s eye. The plaited multi-strand length of cord was about six inches long and included several colors along its woven length. To outward appearance, it was a useless item, but Gwen hummed with the awareness of its power. It could—
She frowned. She could feel the awareness almost there, hovering on the edge of her mind, just out of reach.
She let go of the apple, and the awareness of the cord in the queen’s pocket immediately vanished. Gwen tried to call its image to mind again, but it was hazy and indistinct.
She blinked, trying to focus on her mother’s face and keep her own features steady. When she touched the apple for a second time, the calm fa?ade was difficult to hold, almost overwhelmed as the awareness of her mother’s object came flooding instantly back.
At least she had confirmed the new knowledge definitely came from the apple. Did that mean its purpose was to reveal the presence of other godmother objects? Gwen couldn’t help a sinking disappointment. For one brief moment when she’d remembered the apple’s existence, she had hoped it might turn the tide against the queen. But apparently it was better for little more than a parlor trick.
“Are you even listening to me?” the queen asked, her eyes tightening for the first time.
“Yes, Mother. Of course.” The words slid out easily, the product of instinct, but the title left a burning aftertaste. Gwen had rejected Celandine’s role in her life only the day before, but it wasn’t so easy to reject her to her face.
“Of course,” her mother repeated, but the tightness hadn’t left her face.
For a moment, they both remained motionless, Gwen barely breathing as she waited to see her mother’s next action. It seemed impossible that they weren’t even going to mention Gwen’s flight, and yet the queen seemed ready to sweep the whole thing under the rug. As if, by returning, Gwen had absolved herself of her past misconduct.
But it couldn’t possibly be so easy.
The queen straightened, pulling something out of her pocket. The movement dislodged something else, sending it slipping to the ground.
For a second, Gwen’s eyes caught on a multi-colored strand before Celandine swooped down and retrieved it, thrusting it quickly back out of sight. Gwen hadn’t missed the shape of it, though. It was exactly like the object she had just seen in her mind. The apple’s revelation had been real.
Gwen barely had time to feel the thrill of confirmation before her mother held up the item she had been retrieving from her pocket. A brass key.
Gwen’s insides froze, her breath stuttering. She had been right. Her mother didn’t mean to forgive her flight. She was going to punish her. She was going to lock her in the dark. She was going to—
“Come with me,” the queen said commandingly, sweeping toward the doors of the throne room.
Gwen trailed obediently behind, her brain still circling around the key and her coming imprisonment. Was the queen leading her somewhere even smaller than the closet where she had spent the days after Easton’s disappearance? Would she be confined for an even longer time?
Gwen reminded herself to breathe, only for her head to grow dizzy. She had made the opposite mistake and was breathing much too fast. She would lose her sanity inside whatever tiny hole her mother intended to imprison her in. This time Easton would come for her, but it would be too late. The Gwen he knew would have dissolved.
Her mother stopped in front of a door, and Gwen’s brows lowered. It looked…familiar? Her panicked brain took a moment to comprehend what she was seeing. They stood in front of her own room.
“This is…” She didn’t finish the sentence before her mother used the key to open the door and then stood aside and gestured for her to enter.
Gwen walked inside without conscious thought, the familiar environment flooding her with relief and reassurance.
“There are matters I must attend to,” Queen Celandine said from the doorway with her previous calm indifference. “I’m sure you’ll understand why I would like you to await me here.” She paused. “You might like to know that the lock has been changed. This is now the only key.”
Gwen nodded, still riding high on relief. She was only being confined to her room—her room that had windows and light and more than enough space to move. Her room that had a comfortable bed. She could have thrown her arms around her mother’s neck and hugged her.
With a small smile, the queen withdrew, leaving her daughter to stagger over to the window seat, still reeling as the key turned in the lock. The familiarity of the view calmed her, and for a long moment she sat there, absorbing the sunlight that streamed through the glass and enjoying its warmth.
She was safe after all. Her mother hadn’t shut her inside the closet. She had only—
Locked her in her room.
Gwen frowned. Her mother had sent Gwen to her room as if she was a rebellious child. She had even locked her in. And Gwen had been thanking her! She had been grateful to her!
A slow tide of fury rose inside Gwen, moving slowly like creeping lava but burning just as hot. The queen had manipulated her. She knew of Gwen’s fears, and she had showed her the key purposely to make her think she was being punished. And then she had delivered her to her room instead. If her fear hadn’t been overpowering Gwen’s mind, she would have been incensed to be locked in her room. Instead, she was relieved and grateful. She had been grateful to her mother! She had even thought of her as her mother again.
Gwen shivered. Celandine wasn’t overlooking her rebellion, but her methods were subtle, not overt. She was manipulating Gwen as easily as she had always done, tearing her down and then reassuring her in just the right balance. And Gwen had fallen straight back into her old patterns, just like she had feared she would.
She paced up and down the room, storming and raging silently to herself. She had to be more aware. She couldn’t let herself be sucked into her old thought patterns just because she had returned to a familiar environment.
As the hours dragged on and exhaustion set in, Gwen realized her mistake. She had thought her old mask would serve her best, so she had gone along with her mother’s pretense of amity between them. But in their old roles, the queen had all the advantages. Gwen was in the process of making herself into a new person, but the familiar environment made it too hard to resist the strength of her old habits. She couldn’t stand in the same rooms and interact with her mother in the same way as before and trust that her self-control and determination were enough to carry her through. If Gwen was going to emerge from the palace intact, she had to break free from the rhythms of her past. She had to confront her mother.
The decision to let go of her protective mask felt so momentous that Gwen expected her mother to arrive at her door the moment she reached her conclusion. When the hours dragged on without any sign of the queen, however, Gwen began to grow concerned.
How long was the queen planning to keep her confined? If she intended to lock her up until the moment of the wedding ceremony, Gwen wasn’t going to be much use to the rebels’ cause.
A key in the lock made her jump to her feet. But the person who emerged through the narrow opening lacked the queen’s commanding presence.
“Miriam!” Gwen flew across the room and flung her arms around the young woman.
Miriam startled, barely managing to rescue the tray she was carrying from Gwen’s affectionate attack.
“Sorry!” Gwen drew back and took the tray from her, quickly shutting the door with both of them inside.
Miriam regarded the closed door warily.
“I can’t believe she let you bring me food!” Gwen continued, not sure if she was marveling more at the food itself or the choice of delivery person. “She really doesn’t suspect any of you, then?”
Miriam hesitated before shaking her head.
“Thank goodness.” Gwen collapsed onto the nearest chair. “I was worried. I…” She drew a breath. If she wanted to change, she had to start by taking responsibility for her part in the past. “I’m sorry for just running off and abandoning you all. You helped me, and I rushed to save only myself.”
Miriam regarded Gwen more steadily than the princess could ever remember the captive servant doing in the past. Eventually, she nodded.
“You did leave,” she said, “but now you’ve come back.”
She began unloading the dishes from the tray Gwen held, taking it back from Gwen once it was empty.
“That’s all?” Gwen asked with a lightheaded laugh. “I’m forgiven just like that?”
Miriam shrugged. “We don’t have so many allies that we can afford to throw them away so easily. And you did come back.”
Gwen sobered at the pragmatic response. Sometimes Gwen had forgotten she was a princess and thought of the servants as just her friends. But she doubted they had ever forgotten they were captives. If their plan succeeded, Gwen intended to free the captives as her first act as queen. But at that point, they would likely return home to the valleys.
Some might choose to stay. They had been taken because they were found alone, and some might have no one to return to after so many years in the mountain kingdom. But even if some stayed, Gwen would be their queen. There would always be a barrier and a power imbalance between her and Miriam and Alma and the others.
Gwen owed both duty and affection toward them, but they owed her nothing. If they helped with the rebellion, it would be for the sake of their own freedom. But that was all right. They were allies as Miriam had said, and Gwen could use all the allies she could get.
I suppose this is what it means to be queen, Gwen thought. Gathering allies and weighing how the motivations of others could be used to Gwen’s advantage. She wasn’t sure how she felt about it. Wasn’t it the kind of thing her mother would do?
Even as she thought it, she rejected the idea. Her mother manipulated the motivations of others in order to gain an advantage over them and use them. Allies sought the places where their motivations converged and worked for the good of both parties. Gwen could be an ally to the captive servants and still hold her head high.
She smiled at Miriam. “I would be honored to have you as allies. And in exchange, I guarantee that when I sit on the throne, you will not only be freed, but you will be released with fair compensation for both your captivity and your labor.”
Miriam’s eyes widened. “You really did come back to challenge the queen, then? You mean to take the throne?”
Gwen nodded. “And I’m not alone.” She considered adding more, but caution held her back. Just as she hadn’t mentioned the captives to Count Oswin, she wasn’t sure if it was safe to mention Easton or the count to Miriam. While she didn’t doubt Miriam or Alma, she didn’t know all the captives equally well. There might be one willing to bargain with information in exchange for Celandine setting them alone free.
“I need to tell Alma,” Miriam murmured. She hurried to the door only to hesitate. “Is there…is there something you want us to do?”
Gwen also hesitated, aware that Miriam’s hesitancy reflected the danger she was in from the queen.
“I’ll let you know when the time comes,” Gwen said at last, hoping her words sounded confident instead of vague.
Miriam accepted them with something like relief, slipping out of the room and locking the door behind her. Was she on her way to return the key to the queen, or had Celandine handed it off to the servants with the intention of keeping Gwen locked away for a long time? With Miriam gone, Gwen kicked herself for not asking such basic questions.
She resolved to be more prepared when one of the servants returned to either collect the tray or deliver another meal. But when the key next turned in the lock, the door was thrust all the way open, and the queen strode in.
For a frozen moment, Gwen was sure she had misjudged Miriam and the servant had already reported Gwen to the queen. But Celandine’s expression had a haughty disinterest that didn’t fit with that theory, and Gwen’s racing heart gradually slowed.
As the queen surveyed the room, Gwen’s heart immediately picked up again, however, as she remembered her earlier resolution. The queen might not be angry now, but a defiant attitude from her daughter would likely change that.
Gwen knew she had to act quickly before she lost her nerve. But as soon as she opened her mouth, the queen spoke.
“Come. It is time for you to meet your husband-to-be.”
Gwen snapped her mouth shut, her planned words forgotten. Her mother intended to take her to Henry? Charlotte’s Henry! Gwen had promised her friend that she’d find him, and now her mother was planning to walk her straight there. Gwen could at least keep her mouth shut long enough to meet the prince and find out where he was being kept.