10. Charlotte
CHARLOTTE
C harlotte’s heart pounded as she wove her way through the gardens, her ears straining for the sound of footsteps. She wanted Celandine to be the one to find her, not a random pair of guards. They might throw her out of the grounds—or worse, into a cell—without ever giving her the chance to propose a trade with the queen.
She saw no sign of Natalie as she moved. Had the other girl hidden nearby to hear Gwen’s plan? Charlotte hoped she had. At least that way the rebels would know what had become of her if everything went wrong. But it was just as possible Natalie had headed out to pursue their original mission—finding more information about the queen’s movements.
Charlotte slipped her hand back in her pocket and curled it around the apple. She no longer felt the presence of the golden ball since she had left it buried beneath the bush where she had hidden herself along with the golden halter. She didn’t want to risk carrying either one into Celandine’s presence. They were already handing over one object to her. There was no need to make it three.
In the garden with Gwen, the plan had seemed solid, but the closer she got to the castle, the faster Charlotte’s heart beat. What if the queen didn’t see her? Or what if she wouldn’t agree to the trade? If she had no interest in the apple, or decided to take her chances and seize it by force, Charlotte would be left helpless and with nothing to use to buy her freedom.
Charlotte shook her head, focusing her thoughts on Henry instead. It would all be worth it if she could see him. And she didn’t intend to be tricked into giving Gwen’s object away for a mere few minutes either. If Celandine would be bound by their agreement, Charlotte intended to bargain well.
When she reached the south side of the building, she approached close, peering into the windows she passed. The largest showed an expansive room furnished as a study and lined with bookshelves. An elegant woman wearing a glittering circlet sat at the large desk, her head bent over a stack of papers.
Charlotte immediately pulled back, her heart pounding. She had found the right place, but she needed to stage herself better if she was going to outwit the queen.
Strolling casually in front of the window, she didn’t glance toward the glass. Instead, she gazed out at the city, which stretched below the palace, choosing a place to sit on the grass and angling her body so she could keep her apparent focus on the view while giving the queen a clear line of sight to Charlotte’s profile.
As soon as she was seated, she pulled out the apple and threw it into the air. Tracking its flight, she smiled at the way the lowering sun caught on the gold, making it shine. Perfect.
It landed in her palm with a dull thunk, the weight of it nearly catching her off guard. She quickly flicked it up again, watching its rise and then descent. It was taking all her self-control not to look toward the window, but she didn’t want the queen to know she was aware of her presence, and if their eyes locked…
It flew up again and then a fourth time. When she fumbled the catch, the apple dropped to the grass and rolled a short way. Charlotte retrieved it with her best approximation of a carefree laugh. It barely squeezed through her throat, though, the semblance of calm difficult. She wasn’t sure if she was more terrified of the coming confrontation with the queen or more elated at the prospect of being reunited with Henry. Within minutes, she might be at his side, held in his arms. Waiting was both painful and never-ending. Minutes had never moved so slowly.
She’d lost track of the number of times she’d thrown the apple when a shadow fell across her. Shielding her eyes with one hand, she gazed up at the queen.
Gasping theatrically, she scrambled to her feet and dropped into an instant curtsy.
“Your Majesty,” she said, glad her voice trembled only a little. “I apologize for disturbing you. I didn’t know…”
The queen’s eyes were trained on the apple, her expression hinting at the greedy desire Gwen had been sure she would feel. But at Charlotte’s words, she tore her gaze away and looked at Charlotte’s face.
Her eyes widened, a crease appearing between her brows, and Charlotte remembered Gwen had once mentioned a portrait.
“What are you doing here?” the queen breathed. “ How are you here?”
Charlotte stayed silent, reminding herself that it didn’t matter if the queen recognized her. She would have realized the connection as soon as Charlotte suggested her bargain anyway. But she needed to choose her words carefully.
“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to be reunited with my husband,” she said. “Nothing I wouldn’t give.”
“Even in my youth I wasn’t so foolish,” the queen said, but she looked pleased. “However, if that is truly your heart’s desire, maybe I can help you.”
Charlotte didn’t have to feign her eagerness as she looked up, meeting the queen’s eyes. “You know where Henry is? You can take me to him?”
The queen cocked her head. “Give me that apple, and I will do so.”
Charlotte looked down at it, drawing it back against her body, as if uncertain about the trade.
The queen’s eyes followed the object. “You said you would give anything. Surely you would not begrudge such a bauble.”
Charlotte drew herself up, pretending to gather her courage. “If one such as Your Majesty desires it, it must have value.”
The queen’s eyes narrowed. “You know who I am. With a word I can have you arrested and take everything you possess.”
Charlotte held her ground. “The old woman who gave it to me said it won’t reveal itself if taken by force. She said it can only be used by someone who has received it as a gift, freely given.”
Celandine let out a sharp breath, and Charlotte had to suppress a smile. Their gamble had worked. The queen believed it.
For all I know, it might actually be true, Charlotte thought.
“If I give it to you,” Charlotte continued, “I want more than to just be taken to Henry.”
The queen’s brows rose, but Charlotte thought she detected amused respect beneath the disbelief. Celandine thought she had the unassailable upper hand, so she was willing to play along with Charlotte’s game. Now Charlotte had to turn that to her advantage.
She’d spent her time waiting on working out a strategy, so the words came easily. “It’s nearly sunset. In exchange for this object, I want to spend the whole night with Henry. Just the two of us alone.”
Another smile flickered across the queen’s mouth. “Just one night?” she asked, the words almost mocking. But Charlotte knew she had to walk a fine balance. If she asked for too much, the queen might decide to risk taking the apple.
“One night undisturbed with Henry.” She lifted her chin. “And in the morning, you let me walk away from the palace and its grounds alone and unharmed.”
The queen let out a laugh. “You’re a bold one. Are you sure he’s worth it?” The amusement danced in her eyes, inviting Charlotte to doubt her husband. But she met the queen’s gaze unflinching. She wouldn’t fall into the same trap again. She trusted him.
“That’s my bargain,” Charlotte said. “I get tonight with Henry, and in the morning I walk away. If the conditions aren’t met, the object will cease to work and become an ordinary apple. Assuming we can believe the old woman’s words.”
She could see the sour note in Celandine’s gaze. She didn’t want to give authority to the godmother, but she also understood the futility of trying to deny it. She had a whole room full of their objects, so she couldn’t deny the High King’s power.
Charlotte gave a final small toss of the apple, letting it wink in the fading light.
“Well?” she asked.
The queen glanced at the approaching sunset, her jaw setting. Then something shifted in her eyes, and she looked back at Charlotte and laughed.
“If you will willingly walk into the spider’s lair, who am I to deny you?” she mocked. “It’s a bargain.”
Charlotte moved the apple to her left hand and thrust out her right. After only the smallest pause, the queen took it and shook, her face twisting. But Charlotte didn’t care. Her heart was singing. She was about to be reunited with Henry.
The queen pulled her hand free of Charlotte’s as soon as possible and held it out, palm upward. Charlotte dropped the apple into it, glad she had thought to bury the other objects.
Celandine gazed down at her new treasure, her expression gloating. But before long she looked up again, glancing once more at where the sun hung low in the sky.
“Come,” she said, her tone cold and commanding.
Charlotte hurried behind her, barely able to keep up with the queen’s long strides. Everything had gone as Gwen had predicted, but it was hard not to feel a shadow of dread as she stepped inside the palace. If Gwen had miscalculated or Charlotte had misread the queen, everything could be about to go terribly wrong.
The queen opened a door and ushered Charlotte inside. She hurried in, full of excitement, only for her heart to plummet as soon as she saw the empty space.
“Where—” she cried, turning back to the queen.
“It is not yet night,” Celandine said curtly, cutting her off. “Your bargain was to spend the night with your prince. You will be guided to him after sundown.”
Charlotte tried to protest, but Celandine had already left, closing the door firmly behind her and turning a key in the lock. Charlotte blew out a long breath. It wasn’t what she had been hoping for, and after the heady expectation of only moments before, it was bitter to find herself still parted from Henry. But the situation hadn’t exploded yet. She had always expected the queen to do as little as the bargain would allow—it was why she had tried to word it carefully. She only needed a little more patience and she would be with Henry again.
At least the room she was confined in had a small window, allowing her to watch the sunset. The sun had never descended so slowly, but finally—finally—the last of it slipped beneath the horizon and the sky darkened.
She ran to the door and banged on it. When no one answered, she tried the handle, aware of the futility of the attempt. To her surprise it twisted beneath her hand. When had it been unlocked?
She pulled the door open tentatively, peering at the corridor outside. A large white bear filled her view, startling a screech out of her. But the bear made no aggressive moves, and after a moment she calmed, embarrassed at her outburst. She had seen Gwen and the count change the night before, and she had spent months’ worth of days with Henry in his bear form. She even knew the palace was full of bears at night. She shouldn’t have been so startled.
The bear didn’t respond to her outburst, waiting patiently for her to exit the room. She did so cautiously, examining the bear for any sign of its human identity.
The only thing she could tell, however, was that it wasn’t Henry. His bear form was familiar to her, but she didn’t know how to distinguish anyone else. For all she knew, it could be Queen Celandine herself.
Charlotte doubted it, though. Something about the bear’s air didn’t match the queen’s commanding arrogance. Charlotte wasn’t going to risk making assumptions, however.
“Where’s Henry?” she asked, keeping her words to a minimum.
“Follow me,” the bear said in a deep, gravelly voice.
Charlotte nodded and waited for the bear to start down the corridor. Trailing behind, she felt the earlier anticipation sparkling through her veins again. It didn’t matter who was leading the way—she was going to Henry.
They crossed several corridors before the bear stopped in front of a wooden door. He remained silent, indicating it with his head.
Charlotte brushed past him, her breath catching as she saw the key sticking out of the keyhole. It was really happening. Her husband was waiting on the other side of that door.
Forgetting all about the bear, she turned the lock and slipped through into the luxurious bedchamber on the other side. She forced herself to shut the door behind her and lock it from the inside before turning to scan the room for Henry.
“Henry?” she called, her voice quavering.
There was no response. Frowning, she stepped further into the room, her eyes drawn to the large four-poster bed. It was strangely early for him to be asleep, but a human form was visible beneath the blankets, a riot of dark hair on the pillow catching her eye.
She ran to the bed, her steps faltering as she took in the features of her husband. Comfortable familiarity laced through with love washed over her. She had only seen his human face for a few brief minutes, but his appearance was burned into her mind.
“Henry,” she said again, tears escaping her eyes and tracking down her cheeks. “I came for you, just like I said I would.”
He didn’t stir, and the first tendrils of concern unfurled in her mind.
“Henry!” she said again, louder, but he still didn’t stir. Leaning forward, she shook him by the shoulder, her movement growing more and more rough as he didn’t respond.
It made no difference. Her husband lay in the bed like one dead.