“Alright,” Duncan nodded. “Do you want me to run and do that now?”
“That would be fantastic. Thank you.”
“No problem.” He smiled broadly, always so happy to be of service, and he dashed back the way we’d come to find Elora.
I continued back to my room to think. Between the kidnapping, my parentage, Tove’s training, and now my somewhat bizarre urge to save Loki, my head was spinning. Not to mention that my own people were so eager to throw me under the bus at the defense meeting yesterday.
I wondered if this was the place for me. I didn’t really care to rule a kingdom, so in a real way, it didn’t matter what crown I ended up wearing. Sure, Oren seemed evil, but Elora wasn’t far off from that herself.
If I left with the Vittra, they would leave the Trylle alone. Maybe that would be the best move I could ever make as Princess.
“Wendy!” Matt shouted, drawing me from my thoughts. I’d been passing his room on the way to my own, and he had his door open.
“Matt,” I replied lamely as he rushed out of his room to meet me. He’d been in such a hurry that he carried the book he’d been reading with him. “Sorry, I haven’t seen you much lately. I’ve been busy around here.”
“No, I understand,” he said, but I’m not sure that he did. He held the book to his chest so he could cross his arms in front of it. “How are you? Is everything still okay? Nobody’s really telling me anything, and with the attack the other day-”
“It wasn’t an attack,” I shook my head. “It’s just Loki, and he’s-”
“Is that the guy that kidnapped you?” Matt asked, his voice getting hard.
“Yeah, but…” I tried to think of some excuse to rationalize a kidnapping, but I knew Matt wouldn’t buy any of it, so I stopped. “He’s only one guy. He can’t do that much. They have him locked up, and everything’s fine. It’s safe.”
“How is it safe if he’s breaking in?” Matt countered. “The reason we’re staying here is because it’s the best place for you, but if they can’t keep you safe-”
“It’s safe,” I insisted, cutting him off. “There are guards crawling all over. We are we better off here than we would be out in the real world.”
I didn’t know if that was true exactly, but I didn’t want Matt going off to find out for himself. Oren knew how protective I felt over Matt now, and he was definitely the type of guy that would use that against me if he had the chance. Matt’s best bet was staying here, under the watchful eye of the Trylle.
“I still don’t completely understand what’s happening here or who these people are,” Matt said finally. “I have to trust you on this, and I need to know that you’re safe.”
“I’m safe. Honest. You don’t need to worry about me anymore.” I gave him a sad smile, realizing that was true. “But how have you been? Have you been finding stuff to keep you busy?”
“Yeah, I’ve been spending some time with Rhys, which has been nice,” Matt said. “He’s a good kid. A little… weird, but good.”
“I told you.”
“You did,” he smiled.
“And I see you found something to read.” I pointed to the book he had.
“Yeah, Willa found this for me actually.” Matt uncrossed his arms so he could show me the book. It was hand bound, faded leather. “It’s all the blueprints and designs for the palaces over the years.”
“Oh yeah?” I took it from him so I could leaf through the yellowing pages. It showed ornate designs of all the lush homes the royalty had lived in.
“I told Willa I was an architect, and she tracked down this book for me.” Matt moved closer to me so he could admire the drawings with me. “Her dad had it, I guess.”
I instantly felt stupid. Matt’s only real passion in life was architecture, and we lived in a luxurious palace perched on the edge of a bluff. Of course he would love this, and it hadn’t occurred to me sooner.
Matt started pointing things out to me in the drawings, telling me how ingenious they were. I nodded and sounded amazed when it seemed appropriate.
I talked to Matt a bit longer, then headed down to my room to take a break. No sooner had I flopped down on my bed than I heard a knock at my bedroom door. Sighing, I got out of bed and threw open the door.
Then I saw Finn, standing in my bedroom doorway with his eyes the same shade of night they always were.
“Princess, I need you,” he said simply.
16. Métier
“Beg pardon?” I said when I found my voice.
“The Queen has found time to see you,” Finn said. “But you need to hurry.”
With that, he turned to walk down the hall. I stepped out and shut my bedroom door behind me. When Finn heard it, he slowed a bit, so I assumed I was supposed to catch up to him.
“Where is she?” I asked. I didn’t hurry to catch him, so he glanced at me. “Where am I meeting Elora?”
“I’ll take you to her,” Finn replied.
“You don’t need to. I can find her myself.”
“You’re not to be left alone.” He paused until I reached him, so I would walk next to him.
“This place is swarming with guards. I think I can manage walking down the hall to see Elora,” I told him.
“Perhaps.”
I hated that I had to walk down the halls with him and pretend like I wasn’t in love with him. The silence felt too awkward between us, so I struggled to fill it.
“So… what’s it like working with your father?” I asked.
“It’s acceptable,” Finn said, but I heard the tightness in his voice that he tried to repress.
“Acceptable?” I glanced over at him, searching for any sign that would give away how he really felt, but his face was a mask. His dark eyes stared straight ahead, and his lips pressed into a thin line.
“Yes. That’s an apt way to describe it.”
“Are you close to your father?” I asked, and when he didn’t answer, I went on, “You seemed close to your mother. At least, she cares a great deal for you.”
“It’s hard to be close to someone that you don’t know,” he said carefully. “My father was gone most of my childhood. When he started being around more, I had to leave for work.”
“It’s good that you get be around each other now,” I said. “You can spend some time together.”
“I could give you the same advice in regard to the Queen.” He didn’t turn to me, but I caught him looking down at me, something teasing in his eyes that played against the ice in his words.
“Your father seems much easier to know than my mother,” I countered. “He seems at least vaguely human.”
“You know that’s an insult here,” Finn reminded me. “Being human is something we strive against.”
“Yeah, I can tell,” I muttered.
“I’m sorry for the way things went at the defense meeting the other day.” He’d lowered his voice, speaking in that soft, conspiratorial way he did when it was only the two of us.
“It’s not your fault. In fact, you came to my aid. I owe you a debt of gratitude.”
“I don’t agree with the things they said in there.” Finn slowed to a stop in front of a heavy mahogany door. “The way they blamed you and your mother for what’s happened here. But I don’t want you to hold it against them. They’re just afraid.”
“I know.” I stood next to him, taking a deep breath. “Can I ask you something, honestly?”
“Of course,” he said, but he sounded hesitant.
“Do you think it would be better for me to go with the Vittra?” I asked. His eyes widened, and I hurried on before he could answer. “I’m not asking if it’s best for me, and I want you to put your feelings aside, whatever those may be. Would it be in the best interest of the Trylle, of all the people living here in Förening, if I went with the Vittra?”
“The fact that you are willing to sacrifice yourself for the people is exactly why they need you here.” His eyes stared deeply into mine. “You need to be here. We
all need you.”
Swallowing hard, I lowered my eyes. My cheeks felt flushed, but I hated that simply talking to Finn could do this to me.
“Elora’s inside waiting,” he said quietly.
“Thank you,” I nodded, and without looking at him, I opened the door and slipped inside her office.
I’d never been in the Queen’s private study before, but it was about the same as her other offices. Lots of bookshelves, a giant oak desk, and a velvet chaise lounge poised in front of the windows. A painting of Elora hung on one wall, and from the looks of the brush strokes, I’d guess it was a self-portrait.
Elora sat at her desk, a stack of papers spread out before her. She had an ivory dip pen in her hand, complete with an inkwell to dip it in, and she held it perilously over the papers, as if afraid of what she might sign.
She hadn’t lifted her head yet, and her black hair hung around her face like a curtain, so I wasn’t sure if she knew I was there.
“Elora, I need to talk to you.” I walked towards her desk.
“So I’ve been told. Spit it out. I don’t have much time today.” She looked up at me, and I almost gasped.
I’d never seen her look haggard before. Her normally flawless skin appeared to age and wrinkle overnight. She had definite creases on her forehead that hadn’t been there yesterday. Her dark eyes had gone slightly milky, like early cataracts. A streak of white hair ran down the center of her part, and I don’t know why I hadn’t noticed it when I first came in.
“Princess, really,” Elora sighed, sounding irritated. “What do you want?”
“I wanted to talk to you about Lo - uh, the Vittra Markis,” I stumbled. I’d almost referred to him as Loki, but I thought the familiarity would irritate her.
“I think you’ve already said quite enough on that.” She shook her head, and a drop of ink slipped off the pen onto the desk.
“I don’t think you should execute him,” I said, my voice growing stronger.
“You made your feelings perfectly clear, Princess.”
“It doesn’t make sense, policy wise,” I went on, refusing to let this go. “Killing him will only incite more Vittra attacks.”
“The Vittra aren’t going to stop whether we execute the Markis or not.”
“Exactly!” I said. “We don’t need to antagonize them. Too many people have died over this already. We don’t need to add anyone else to the death toll.”
“I can’t keep him prisoner for much longer,” Elora said. In a rare moment of honesty, her wall slipped for a minute, and I saw how truly exhausted she was. “What I’m using to hold him is… it’s draining me.”
“I’m sorry,” I said simply, unsure how to respond to her admittance of frailty.
“It should please Your Young Majesty to know that I’m right now searching for a solution,” Elora said, sounding particularly bitter when she referred to me as Majesty.
“What are you planning to do?” I asked.
“I’m looking over past treaties.” She tapped at the papers in front of her. “I’m trying to come up with an exchange agreement, so we can give back the Markis and buy ourselves some peace. I don’t know that Oren will ever stop coming after you, but we need some time before he launches another attack.”
“Oh.” I was momentarily disarmed. I hadn’t expected her to do anything to help me, or Loki. “What makes you think that Oren can mount another attack? The Vittra seem too damaged to fight right now.”
“You know nothing about the Vittra or your father,” Elora said, simultaneously weary and condescending.
“And whose fault is that?” I asked. “I found out about you two months ago! If I’m left in the dark about things, it’s because you’re the one that left me there. You expect me to rule this place, yet you refuse to tell me anything about it.”
“I don’t have time, Princess!” Elora snapped. When she looked at me, I would’ve sworn I saw tears in her eyes, but they disappeared before I could be certain. “I want so much to tell you everything, but I don’t have time! You’re on a need to know basis. I wish that it could be different, Princess, but this is the world that we live in.”
“What do you mean?” I asked. “Why don’t you have time?”
“I don’t even have time for this discussion.” Elora shook her head and waved me off. “You have much you need to do, and I have a meeting in ten minutes. If you want me to save your precious Markis, I suggest you get on your way and let me do my job.”
I lingered in front of her desk for a moment longer before I realized I had nothing more to say to her. For once, Elora was on my side, and she didn’t plan to execute Loki. It would actually be better if I left before I ended up saying something that would change her mind.
I expected to find Finn waiting in the hall to take me to my room, but instead I had Tove. He leaned against the wall, absently rolling an orange between his hands.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“It’s nice to see you, too,” Tove said dryly.
“No, I mean, I wasn’t expecting you.”
“I was coming to see you anyway, so I let Finn go,” Tove smirked and shook his head.
“Am I supposed to train today?” I asked. I enjoyed training with Tove, but he’d thought it best I take a day or two off so I didn’t get burned out.
“No.” Tove tossed the orange as we started walking away from Elora’s study. “I’m staying here now, and I thought I should check up on you.”
“Oh, right.” I’d forgotten that Tove would be living here for a while, helping ensure the palace was safe. “Why should you check up on me?”
“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “You just seem…” He trailed off.
“Is my aura off-colored today?” I asked, giving him a sidelong glance.
“Yeah, actually,” he nodded. “Lately it’s been a sickly brown, almost a sulfur yellow.”
“I don’t know what color sulfur is, and even if I did, I don’t know what that means,” I said. “You talk of auras, but you never explain them.”
“Yours is orange. It’s supposed to be, anyway.” He rested his eyes on me quickly before flitting away, and he tossed the orange from hand to hand. “It’s inspiring and compassionate. You get a purple halo when you’re around people you care about. That’s a protective and loving aura.”
“Okay?” I raised an eyebrow.
“At the meeting yesterday, when you stood up, and you were fighting for something you believed in, your aura glowed gold.” Tove stopped walking, lost in thought. “It was dazzling.”
“What does gold mean?” I asked.
“I don’t know exactly,” he shook his head. “I’ve never seen it quite like that. Your mother’s tends to be gray tinged with red, but when she’s in full Queen mode, she gets flecks of gold.”
“So gold means… what? I’m a leader?” I asked skeptically.
“Maybe,” he shrugged again and started walking.
Tove walked downstairs, and even though I’d wanted solitude, I went with him. He proceeded to explain all he knew about auras, what each color meant.
The purpose of an aura still eluded me. Tove said it gave him clarity into another person’s character and their intentions. Sometimes if the aura was really powerful, he could feel it. Yesterday at the meeting, mine had felt warm, like basking in the summer sun.
He stopped at the sitting room and flopped down in a chair by the fire place. He began peeling the orange and tossing its skin into the unlit hearth. I sat on the couch nearest him and stared out the window.
Autumn was beginning to give way to winter, and heavy sleet beat down outside. As it fell against the glass, it sounded like raining pennies.
“How much do you know about the Vittra?” I asked.
“Hmm?” Tove took a bite of the orange, and he glanced at me, wiping the juice from his chin.
“Do you know much about the Vittra?” I rephrased the question.
“Some.” He held out an orange slice to m
e. “Want some?”
“No thanks.” I shook my head. “How much is some?”
“I meant like a slice or two, but you can have the rest of the orange if you really want.” He extended the orange to me, but I politely waved him off.
“No, I meant tell me what you know about the Vittra,” I said.
“That’s too vague.” Tove took another bite, then grimaced and tossed the remainder of it in the fireplace. He rubbed his hands on his pants, drying the juice from them, and looked about the room.
He seemed distracted today, and I wondered if the palace was too much for him. Too many people with too many thoughts trapped in one space. He normally only visited for a few hours at a time.
“Do you know why the Vittra and the Trylle are fighting?” I asked.
“No,” he shook his head. “I think it’s about a girl, though.”
“Really?” I asked.
“Isn’t it always?” He sighed and got up. He went over to the mantle and pushed around the few ivory and wood figurines that rested on it. Sometimes he used his fingers, sometimes he used his mind to move them. “I heard once that Helen of Troy was Trylle.”
“I thought Helen of Troy was a myth,” I said.
“And so are trolls.” He picked up a figurine of an ivory swan intertwined with wooden ivy, and he touched it delicately, afraid of damaging the intricate design. “Who’s to say what’s real or not?”
“Then, what? Troy and Vittra are the same thing? Or what are you saying there?” I asked.
“I don’t know.” Tove shrugged and put the figurine on the mantle. “I don’t put much stock in Greek mythology.”
“Great.” I leaned on the couch. “What do you know?”
“I know that their King is your father.” He paced the room, looking around at everything while looking at nothing. “And he’s ruthless, so he won’t stop until he gets you.”
“You knew he was my father?” I asked, gaping at him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“It wasn’t my place.” He looked out the window at the sleet. He went right up to it and pressed his palm to the glass, so it left a steamy print from the warmth of his skin.
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