The Girl Who Chose

by Violet Grace

  He raises his eyebrows, following the line of my sight.

  ‘Oh no,’ I begin, catching myself as I feel my face go hot. ‘That’s not what I meant…’

  ‘Too much?’ he says.

  ‘No, no.’

  His mouth turns up at the corner. ‘You are a terrible liar, Bella.’

  ‘Okay, just a bit,’ I laugh.

  ‘You must forgive me,’ he says. ‘Restraint is not my forte.’

  The return of his playfulness releases the tension in my shoulders and back. He mirrors my posture, sitting across from me like we’re old friends.

  ‘How did you come to be in that terrible state by the side of canal?’ He leans forward, his face set with concern.

  I knew this was coming. I had planned to lie to him but the softness and worry in his voice have me off balance. As I look across the table at the guy who saved my life and carried me through the portal back to the castle, I realise he deserves the truth. So that’s what I give him.

  Well, not the whole truth. I’m not a saint. Or an idiot.

  I leave out the mermaids. They have a pretty frosty view of House Grigio, and I’m betting they’re not at the top of Victor’s Christmas card list either. And I don’t mention being chased by the sporgente and the griffins since, well, they’re just another complication I don’t need to deal with right now. Just thinking about my father leaves me feeling raw, so I say nothing about my run-in with him. And, obviously, I don’t say anything about my incapacity to access the Art. Best to keep things simple.

  ‘I panicked about the whole arranged marriage thing, and then was captured by the Agency.’

  Victor sits back in his chair, looking at me intently.

  ‘Our betrothal has caused you distress. That House Grigio has contributed to this is perhaps the most regrettable part.’ He takes a deep breath and continues. ‘Things between us, they did not start well.’

  Understatement of the century.

  ‘I was under the impression that you had been better informed. I have known my whole life that I would marry for duty. I see now that you had very different expectations. All I ask is that after you take the time you need to recover, we can talk more about the … situation we find ourselves in. Openly and honestly. You need not run from me.’

  Truth be told, I had not credited him with possessing this much sensitivity and insight. Perhaps I’ve been too quick to judge him as nothing more than a sweet-talking and entitled prince. Victor cared enough to search for me. If it weren’t for him, I might still be lying by the side of a canal. Most probably dead.

  ‘I’d like that,’ I say, surprised that I actually mean it. Sure, I’m not going to agree to be married off. Not in this lifetime, anyway. But there’s no harm in getting to know someone who’s about to take on the responsibility of ruling a kingdom. Victor’s been preparing for this role his whole life. Maybe I could learn a thing or two.

  And then there’s the fact that I don’t have much of a choice. I can’t go back to Trinovantum without my powers. It will be easier to conceal the fact that I can’t actually use the Art here in Serenissima, where nothing much is required of me except swanning around and smiling. I’m pretty sure I won’t be required to do any magic shows to impress Victor’s people. Anything requiring the Art can be plausibly palmed off to one of my entourage.

  But most of all, I can’t go back to Trinovantum because of what my mother tried to tell me. So here I will remain until I find out what I need to do. Victor or others in his family must know something about the scroll that can help her.

  ‘Excellent,’ says Victor, brightening. ‘We will meet tomorrow, before I meet with the Cerchio.’

  ‘The what?’

  ‘You know them as the Order,’ he says. ‘My advisors in all matters.’

  He stands and walks to my side of the table. Reaching for my hand slowly, he fixes me with a playful, challenging gaze. I could probably pull my hand away without causing offence, but I don’t. I’m not quite sure why; perhaps I’m following Gladys’s advice and picking my battles. I allow him to brush a kiss across the back of my hand.

  ‘Good night, Bella.’

  I don’t smile back but I am feeling, well, a little lighter. He gives a shallow bow and turns to leave. But as he reaches the door, there’s a commotion outside.

  ‘I will not be put off any longer!’ the Chancellor bellows.

  ‘No,’ I hear Mama bark. ‘She is with —’

  Victor opens the doors wide, and the Chancellor half falls, half waddles through the door. He’s followed by Mama, and behind her, I see Jules and Abby.

  ‘Impossible woman,’ the Chancellor says, shooting daggers at Mama. Not looking where he’s going, he bumps directly into Victor.

  The Chancellor sucks in a breath, readying himself to give Victor a mouthful, but he pauses, his mouth flopping wide like a fish’s, when he realises who it is. He rearranges his face into an obsequious smile and offers a deep bow.

  ‘Your Grace, I do beg – I did not know you were with …’ he says, his jowls wobbling.

  ‘The Queen?’ Victor says.

  At the mention of my title, the Chancellor turns and bows to me.

  ‘Forgive me, Your Majesty, I am forgetting myself.’

  ‘Is there something you need?’ Victor says.

  ‘I beg your pardon?’ the Chancellor asks uncertainly.

  ‘Why. Are. You. Here?’ Victor says calmly.

  I clamp my lips shut to stifle a laugh. Through the door I notice that even Jules is smirking. Mama’s arms are crossed, a look of satisfaction on her face.

  The Luminaress slices off a disapproving look as she steps around the onlookers at the door. She swishes into the dining room and makes a point of closing the door behind her.

  Saving the Chancellor from more blabbering, she says, ‘We have come to enquire about your health, Your Majesty.’

  ‘I am well,’ I say, offering nothing more.

  ‘Splendid, splendid,’ the Chancellor says, finally recovering. ‘It is fortuitous that we are all here. We have much to discuss. The outrageous attack against Her Majesty shall not go unanswered. The Order has met and, with the full backing of House Grigio’ – at this, he looks to Victor, who nods in agreement – ‘we have decided, with Your Majesty’s assent, of course —’

  ‘There will be no reprisals,’ I say, cutting him off.

  The Chancellor and the Luminaress stare at me. Even Victor looks surprised.

  I cannot afford the time or distraction of a battle with the Agency at the moment. And as much as I hate my father, I don’t want him harmed. I haven’t decided if I’m going to approach him or talk to him, but I don’t want him to be collateral damage in a Fae attack on the Agency. There’s also the weapon. I don’t want to risk anyone here discovering what it can do to me, what it has already done.

  ‘Your Majesty, I must advise —’ starts the Chancellor.

  ‘There will be no reprisals,’ I repeat. ‘I will deal with the Agency at a time of my own choosing, on my own terms.’

  ‘Ah, we are to witness the famed power of the great Queen Francesca,’ says Victor, a smile lighting up his face.

  I offer a weak smile in return, my stomach churning. Not just because I don’t even have enough power to light a candle right now; I’m also wondering if Victor had been promised a weapon as well as a wife in this alliance.

  ‘Very well, your Majesty,’ says the Chancellor stiffly. ‘We shall leave the matter of retaliation in your capable hands.’

  ‘Was there something else?’ I ask, trying out Victor’s dismissive tone.

  ‘Why yes, Your Majesty.’ He pauses a moment, choosing his words. His eyes dart to Victor. ‘The matter of the alliance. We need to progress discussions.’

  ‘It’s all arranged,’ Victor says, dismissing the Chancellor. ‘The Queen and I are to meet tomorrow.’ He gives me a sly wink, clearly enjoying kicking the Chancellor’s platform out from under him. ‘Your assistance is not required.’
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br />   Before the Chancellor can get another word in, Victor turns to me and says, ‘I’ll now bid you goodnight, Your Majesty.’

  He lowers into a shallow bow, turns on his heel and leaves without so much as a nod to the Chancellor or the Luminaress. Both of them watch him depart.

  ‘Well,’ the Chancellor says, ‘we are pleased to see you have used your respite productively. Now that you have had time to appreciate and accept your role here, we must work to strengthen our alliance with House Grigio, and put your, shall we say, unbecoming departure from the banquet firmly behind us.’

  I don’t trust myself to speak; I might tell him what I really think. Instead, I gulp down the glass of water on the table. When it has smothered my rage, I say, ‘I will meet with Victor. But let me make this crystal clear: all that has been agreed is that I will stay in Serenissima a little longer and talk. That is all.’

  ‘Splendid, splendid, Your Majesty,’ he says blithely. ‘I have observed that where matters of the heart are concerned, talking is the first step towards the blossoming of mutual affections. Your mother would be proud of you.’

  The glass I’m holding slips from my hand and shatters on the table.

  The Chancellor takes a step backwards, putting his hands up in a mollifying gesture. Even without the Art, a raw, animal hate wells within me, hate for his arrogance and his duplicity. My breathing quickens. My hand curls into a fist and pale blue sparks rise from my knuckles, letting off a sulphurous smell of electricity. I embrace it. Anger is my energy, a welcome relief from the numbness I’ve felt since I discovered the truth about my father.

  ‘You will not speak about my mother again!’

  The Luminaress takes my hand and smothers the flickers of my magic with hers, a blanket extinguishing an ember. Her eyes go wide, and she looks straight into my soul.

  I wrench my hand from her spindly grasp as if from a hot stove. I’m shaking with a mixture of anger and panic and nothingness.

  ‘Out!’ I say. ‘We’re finished here.’

  I spend the rest of the night worried and alone. I don’t know what the Luminaress might say or do. I haven’t seen her today but when I bumped into the Chancellor on my way out of the castle he was his usual ingratiating self. If anything, he had an extra spring in his step. Possibly because he knows that I’m meeting with Victor and mistakenly believes his plan to sideline me is going swimmingly. I have to assume that the Luminaress hasn’t outed me. But not knowing is the worst part.

  I try to push these thoughts away as Jules and I walk the Grigio castle grounds, killing time before I meet Victor. I don’t succeed.

  Should I tell Jules about my missing power? What will she make of a Fae queen who has no access to the Art? Even if I have her support, what about the rest of the Protectorate? They are still Fae, governed by the laws of nature, and if they were to decide that a queen without power was unnatural, well… I cut that thought off before it triggers a panic attack.

  I lift the skirts of my sky-blue gown as we pass stone water features dotted amongst manicured gardens. The handwritten note I received from Victor this morning said his people would meet me at my apartment in an hour to escort me to his chambers for breakfast. Too restless to sit and wait, I figured I’d get some fresh air. If nothing else, it might stop me from overthinking our meeting.

  It’s just breakfast, after all. It’s not as if it’s a date or anything. I also need to find out everything House Grigio knows about the scroll and its location. I feel a teensy bit bad about having an ulterior motive to spend time with Victor. He and his people have been nothing but gracious and helpful. But I need to help my mother.

  Jules stops suddenly.

  ‘What?’ I follow her gaze to a group of unicorn foals in the distance, frolicking amongst the shrubbery. One lets out a squeal of delight, before taking to the air unsteadily, his fledgling wings not quite working as they should. He wobbles mid-air and tumbles back to the ground, rolling safely into the fall. The other foals playfully nuzzle him with their noses.

  ‘Do you ever trans just for fun?’ I whisper.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Do you ever want to?’ I push.

  ‘Every minute of every day,’ Jules says, looking at the sky.

  A moment later her eyes dart down and her body tenses.

  ‘Someone’s coming,’ she warns, just as Victor appears through the thick foliage in the distance.

  He’s chatting casually with the hulking bodyguard I recognise from the other night, Roberto. We’re still far enough away that they haven’t noticed us. Victor’s wearing board shorts and has a towel slung over his shoulder, looking like he’s been for an early-morning swim.

  One of the foals crash-lands directly in front of Victor, throwing up grass and dirt. Victor laughs and bends down to the foal, checking to see if he’s okay. The foal springs onto his hooves, shakes the grass from his coat, and then bows his little horn towards Victor, saying something I can’t make out. Victor returns the bow, as if accepting a duel. He hands his towel to Roberto, who stands obediently to one side. In a flurry of shimmering dust, Victor transes into his four-legged form. He’s as lean as a racehorse, his chocolate-coloured coat the same shade as his eyes, glinting in the sun.

  ‘Why have I never seen the Chancellor trans to a unicorn before?’ I ask Jules.

  Her eyes sparkle and her mouth cracks into a smile before she covers it with her hand.

  ‘What’s so funny?’ I ask, smiling.

  ‘The thought of the Chancellor transing is … well, it is unthinkable, Your Majesty.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Unicorns are the warriors and workhorses of the Fae. It is not considered becoming for a high-horn to trans, unless absolutely necessary.’

  ‘But flying is so much fun.’

  ‘Most high-horns choose status over fun.’

  ‘Victor doesn’t seem to think that way,’ I observe.

  ‘No,’ she muses. ‘And, if you’ll permit me, that is to his credit.’

  My head is instantly full of thoughts of Tom. Flying with him was the most fun I’ve ever had in my life. Whether I was flying alongside him, or seated on his powerful, magnificent form, I was free; I was whole. What I wouldn’t give to do that again. Just one more time.

  I push these thoughts back down into my vault marked ‘Things I Long For But Can Never Have’, right next to having a loving father, a normal life, and the power to undo past mistakes.

  Sweeping feathered wings sprout from either side of Victor’s wither. Jules watches the release and satisfaction on Victor’s face as he stretches and shakes out his chocolatey plume. I know her well enough to see the longing she is concealing. The foals whinny with delight. They watch intently as Victor’s wings flare, arch and then fold back tightly against his body. He repeats the same three movements again, and this time the foals follow along, clumsily trying to mirror him.

  ‘He’s teaching them to fly?’ I say.

  Jules nods, not taking her eyes off Victor.

  He rises up on his hind legs and takes to the air, effortlessly beating his wings as he ascends higher and higher. Ten metres from the ground, he arches backwards and soars around upside-down in a clockwise loop. As he rights himself, he looks over in my direction. The moment he sees me, his neck arches and his ears prick forward.

  He flies down towards me, hovering in the air for a moment as if he’s deciding how to proceed.

  ‘Good morning,’ I call up to him. It comes out more formal than I’d intended.

  His hooves trans to feet as they touch the grass. He says nothing, just stares at me, appraising me, regarding me with … what? Annoyance? Have I created another royal faux pas? Perhaps high-horns don’t like to be watched flying – or transing. Or is he just curious? Most of the time he’s charm on legs, but then there’s this utter inscrutability.

  It dawns on me that I’m staring at his naked torso. Blushing, I look away towards the foals, who are all surreptitiously watching our exchange. Feeling like a co
mplete idiot, I try restarting the conversation.

  ‘I was just taking in your beautiful grounds.’

  ‘So I see,’ he says, rocking back on his heels, his arms crossed in front of him.

  ‘You’re enjoying this, my awkwardness. Aren’t you?’

  Victor stares at me for a moment longer. His arms fall to his sides, and then, to my complete surprise, he throws his head back and laughs.

  ‘Oh, Bella,’ he says, ‘I thought my wildcat had lost her spark.’

  My breath catches as I search his face for a double meaning. When I don’t find one I feel the tension ease from my shoulders and back. I have no idea what that was about.

  He flashes me his dazzling smile. I return an uncertain one.

  ‘Come. Let us breakfast,’ he says.

  Roberto reaches for his wand in his boot and uses it to conjure dry clothes onto Victor – a charcoal lounge suit.

  Victor holds out his arm for me and I take it. Jules and Roberto fall into step behind us as we make our way back towards the castle.

  ‘To the penthouse, Bella,’ he says, bounding up one of the external spiral staircases. He stops on a landing at the level just below the airship deck and parade ground. I breathe in the salty morning air as I look out at the sparkling blue lagoon and the terracotta buildings beyond.

  ‘You will remain outside,’ Victor says to Jules.

  I bristle at his command. ‘She comes with me everywhere.’

  Victor’s eyes narrow. ‘You do not trust me, Bella?’

  ‘It’s not about trust. It’s protocol.’

  Taking her cue from me, Jules disappears into Victor’s chambers to begin her security sweep.

  To be honest, I couldn’t give a fig about protocol. What really has me worried is the thought that Victor might come to the same realisation as the Luminaress while we’re alone. And I feel vulnerable walking amongst Fae who have magic at their fingertips when I do not. With Jules at my side, at least I have someone who’s sworn to protect me.

  Jules reappears at the doorway and gives the all-clear with a brief nod.