“She's always late.” Goran shrugged. “Heaven only knows what takes her so long, because it isn't dressing. I don't know if you've noticed, but she doesn't particularly care for pretty clothes.”
“Or shoes,” Felix murmured.
“Or shoes,” Goran agreed, smiling fondly. “Father's accepted your suit, has he?
“He has,” Felix said. “It will be my honor to wed your sister.”
“From brothers in arms to brothers in truth.” Rist raised his wine glass so enthusiastically that wine slopped over the side. “How do you like that!”
Felix lifted his own glass more cautiously. “Exceedingly well.”
“Ah,” Rist said, his eyes shining with happiness—and with drink, Felix suspected. “Here is your betrothed at last, lord king.”
Feeling the back of his neck prickle ominously, Felix turned to find himself speared once more by the princess's eyes. It made him feel like a fish on a hook.
“I apologize once again for my tardiness, my lord.” Keela seated herself gracefully in the empty seat beside him and smoothed the velvet of her skirt. “I trust you have had an enjoyable evening thus far?”
“I have,” Felix replied, refusing to let his gaze drift to the tentacle-y remains of the mysterious insect on his plate. “It’s been… enlightening.”
Keela laughed merrily. “Indeed, my lord. I hope the food hasn’t disagreed with you. Sometimes the sea's bounty doesn’t sit well with folk who aren’t used to it.”
“Not at all.” He watched in amazement as she dismantled an ocean insect in less than half the time it had taken him to dissect his.
“I'm glad,” she said kindly, and smiled.
Much to his relief, she went on to chat politely but intelligently on various subjects and displayed a most gratifying interest in his people's customs and traditions. Gradually, Felix relaxed. Dressed in a proper gown and engaging in light conversation, Keela was the very picture of a well-bred Seafarian lady. This, he felt equipped to deal with.
For the first time, he found himself grateful for Seafare's hellishly restricting notions of decorum. It occurred to him that perhaps the very purpose of such rigid social structures was to provide a fool-proof framework of actions and reactions and thus prevent poor cads like himself from dying of anxiety. If that were the case, he blessed the clever man or woman who thought of such a scheme.
Bolstered by this thought, he asked his betrothed to dance in spite of his nerves. Seafarian dances had been, until very recently, a dusty relic of his youth. Even then, lessons had been purely an academic exercise—stomping about his father’s feast hall with his sister had not in any way prepared him for the real thing.
Nevertheless, he asked, and Keela accepted. Naturally, she danced as lightly and gracefully as a flower petal on the wind. Framework, he reminded himself as he lurched and galumphed beside her. Seafarian etiquette would certainly prevent Keela from commenting on the fact that, next to her, he looked like a lumbering bear stuffed into a man's clothes.
At the end of the dance, Keela thanked him warmly and curtsied. By the time Darrin announced their betrothal, Felix had almost convinced himself that he and Keela had merely gotten off on the wrong foot. And so, when Keela asked him to walk with her in the garden, he thought nothing of it. He offered his arm with a bow and she placed her hand over his, her fingers barely brushing his skin.
As they walked along the garden paths, Felix waited for her to broach the next appropriate yet interesting topic of conversation as she had been doing so successfully all evening. But Keela merely floated along in silence, gazing upward—at the stars, Felix supposed. He cast about, trying to think of something to say. But now that the silence had settled, everything seemed abrupt and out of place.
The princess gave a little sigh and lowered her head. It struck Felix that perhaps she was expecting something from him. Was he supposed to woo her? To his eminently practical mind, wooing seemed redundant. They were betrothed already. Nevertheless, a mental voice that sounded strangely like his sister replied pointedly, a little effort would not go amiss. Felix cleared his throat and drew breath to speak, but Keela stopped abruptly and turned away from him before he could begin.
“We're here,” she stated.
Felix’s brows rose. “Were we going someplace in particular?”
“Yes,” Keela said. “Follow me.”
Disgruntled at finding himself obliged to follow meekly after her for the third or fourth time in as many hours, Felix nonetheless stepped off the neatly raked walkway and onto a weed-infested footpath. Keela led him to an overgrown section of the garden wall and removed her slippers, setting them on a nearby rock.
Although made somewhat uneasy by this development, Felix reminded himself that he already knew of her strange aversion to shoes. Nothing to worry about. When she proceeded to unlace the front of her gown, however, he became truly alarmed.
“What are you doing?” he demanded in a strangled whisper.
“Taking off my gown,” Keela said, looking up at him in surprise. “I don’t want to ruin it. My aunt Eena put such a lot of effort into the embroidery.”
“I—what?” Felix sputtered, backing away as if from a dangerous animal. “What do you—”
“In the tunnel.” She pushed aside some hanging ivy to reveal a dilapidated wooden door in the wall. Then, before he could say anything more, she stepped out of the gown and stood before him wearing nothing but a long cotton shift and a thoughtful frown. “You might consider taking off your tunic—that velvet will be completely ruined.”
“Oh? What, exactly, do you suppose we’ll be doing, my lady?” Felix inquired, not altogether politely.
Keela for the first time looked slightly unsure. “I… I only wanted to show you the sea-hounds and perhaps walk on the beach. I thought you might enjoy it since it's your first visit to the sea.”
“My lady—Keela—I can't take you through that hole. In your shift, no less! Your father would have my head.”
“Oh, I see.” Her face cleared. “You're quite right, that wouldn't do at all.”
Felix nodded and smiled in relief and opened his mouth to suggest that she put her clothes back on.
“Allow me, then, to rephrase and set your mind at ease,” she went on. Felix's mouth shut with an audible click. “I am going to see the sea-hounds and perhaps walk on the beach. You can come along if you like.”
Without another word, she disappeared through the door, leaving Felix rooted to the spot in disbelief. For the briefest of moments, he considered going back to inform the king of Seafare that his daughter had disappeared into impenetrable darkness—alone and dressed only in her shift—then groaned and kicked the wooden door open. Felix whipped off his tunic (she was right—no point in ruining good velvet) and plunged after the princess, determined to bring her back—over his shoulder, if necessary.
“Princess,” he called, edging along the damp wall. “Stay where you are—I'm coming.”
“Don't worry,” she called back. Was that laughter in her voice? He thought he heard the slightest quiver as she continued, “The way is straight, for the most part. You won't get lost—but mind the spiders.”
Cursing, he increased his speed, hoping to overtake Keela and put into action his plan to forcibly remove her from the tunnel. After several long minutes spent stumbling through the pitch blackness and peeling spider webs off his face, the prospect of throwing her over his shoulder—or perhaps dragging her out by her hair—began to take on a certain allure.
When Felix reached open air, he found himself at the edge of a nearly sheer rock face. At the princess's call, he looked down and saw Keela briskly making her way down the cliff face using natural handholds as well as metal spikes driven into the rock. Seeing no other option (and he did look, very thoroughly), Felix took a steadying breath and lowered himself over the edge.
When he reached the bottom, he turned to find the princess scampering up another pile of rocks. He set off once more in pursuit,
managing the slippery, jagged surfaces with far less skill. He was breathing heavily when he finally gained the top, more from anxiety than exertion. Keela was nowhere to be seen.
Darrin is going to kill me, Felix thought, feeling aggrieved and completely justified in having fought tooth and nail for more than a year against his councilors' insistence that he marry. He looked around frantically, trying to find the princess in the maze of rocks and shadows. He wondered if it was possible for gray hairs to appear spontaneously.
“Felix,” Keela called softly, and he spotted her on top of a large rock, lying on her stomach. “Come and see.”
He scrambled up beside her and drew himself up to deliver what would no doubt have been a scolding of inspirational proportions, but the words died in his throat as Keela yanked him down and pointed. Below them rested more than a dozen of the strangest creatures he had ever seen—including the monstrous insects he had eaten for supper.
The odd-looking animals scooted and waddled around on furry flippers but barked at each other with snouts like dogs. Their heads were sleek and round, with tiny bud-like ears. He watched a mother nuzzle her young, her eyes dark and liquid in the moonlight.
“What are they?” he whispered, filled with awe.
“Sea hounds,” Keela whispered back. “Aren't they magnificent?”
“They are, somehow,” he agreed. “Yet they seem so awkward.”
“Only on land,” Keela said with a smile. “In the water they’re more graceful than you can imagine.”
“Are they all female?” Felix asked. Nearly every one of the creatures had a youngster nestled close.
“Yes,” Keela said. “The male leaves after he's mated with all of them. I wouldn't have brought you if he were still here. Males are very territorial—and aggressive.”
Felix’s brow creased. “He would leave them without protection?”
“The mothers all help to protect and provide for the babies—and each other,” Keela replied. “It's really quite beautiful. And obviously effective, or they wouldn’t still be here.”
“Mmm,” Felix agreed dubiously, but continued to observe the creatures in wondering fascination.
“I’ll miss them.” Keela sighed and rested her chin on her forearms. “And I’ll miss the sea.”
“If it helps,” Felix offered hesitantly, “the wind in the grass makes a sound very similar to that of waves on the shore.”
“It does help. Or it will, I suppose.”
They lay for some time in silence, their elbows nearly touching. Felix found his attention split between the peculiar animals below and the equally peculiar but enchanting sight of his betrothed. Keela lay bathed in moonlight, shivering slightly in her smudged, damp—and clinging—shift. Her hair spilled down her back and across the rock like an inky waterfall.
As she turned to him, her eyes caught the moonlight and seemed to glow. Felix shivered, thinking suddenly of the tales his nurse had told him as a child. Many had featured the Good People: beautiful, otherworldly beings who sometimes chose to ensnare mortals with their magic and steal away their souls. He shivered again and told himself it was the sea spray.
“We should go,” Keela said regretfully. “I hoped to have time for a walk—the beach is so beautiful at night—but you took rather longer than I expected. Father will start to worry soon.”
Before he could say anything in reply, she turned and seemed to simply roll off the side of the rock. All thoughts of the otherworldly fled his mind as he slithered after her, hoping desperately that he would land in one piece. The whole uncomfortable chase began again, but in reverse. Once again, he failed in his pursuit. He found Keela sitting peacefully on a bench in the garden, fully dressed, with her hands folded demurely in her lap.
She rose to meet him and handed him his tunic. Fuming, Felix pulled it over his head—but not before he suffered her to brush bits of cobweb and dirt off his shirt, as if he were a grubby child come in for supper. Her slender white hands flitted about his chest and arms, which he found distracted him entirely from his indignation at this latest bit of unfairness.
“You'll do,” Keela declared, looking him over critically. “It's lucky your shirt is dark. Oh look, there’s Father—let's go tell him about the sea-hounds. He's made a study of them, you know.”
“What? No, don't—”
But she did. Felix trailed after, sweating profusely and trying to think of something—anything—he could say to Darrin that would not result in the immediate dissolution of his betrothal to Keela. Keela reached her father and took his arm, chattering cheerfully away and digging Felix deeper into an early grave with every word. Darrin listened silently, his eyes locked on Felix's face. Felix stood motionless and silent, wishing fervently for the ground to open up and swallow him whole.
“A most satisfactory adventure, I'm sure,” Darrin observed at the conclusion of Keela’s damning recitation. “But perhaps you should rejoin the dancing for a while. Your aunt has been asking after you.”
“Oh, yes, I must thank her for this dress,” she agreed. “The embroidery is simply charming.”
Keela turned to Felix, curtsied, and extended her hand with that thrice-cursed dreamy smile. Perhaps she was dreaming up fresh tortures to inflict upon her soon-to-be-previously betrothed. Felix bowed stiffly over Keela’s hand. She raised her eyes to his and then she was gone in a flicker of skirts, leaving him alone with her father.
As he straightened, Felix closed his eyes and prayed for strength. Darrin regarded him solemnly for what seemed like several eternities…and then laughed. And laughed, and kept on laughing until he had to lean against a statue for support. Tears streamed from his eyes.
Felix breathed heavily through his nose. You will not hit him, he counseled himself. He is your friend, and one of the most important men in the known world. Do not hit him. As his anger cooled, Felix wondered if perhaps the king’s unhinged laughter was actually a good sign. Although deeply offensive, Darrin’s reaction didn’t seem to be one of fatherly wrath. Could it be that Darrin was not going to retract his blessing and hurl Felix from the castle walls?
“Darrin?” Felix inquired, striving valiantly to do so politely. “Are you quite finished?”
“Yes,” Darrin gasped with what Felix uncharitably deemed a giggle. “Ahem. I apologize.”
“Darrin, I tried to stop her—” Felix rushed to say, but Darrin stopped him.
“Didn't I say it was pointless?” Darrin demanded. “I did. You were there, I remember it quite clearly. Brace yourself, now. I believe my daughter would like another dance with her future husband.”
“Husband,” Felix repeated, trying to identify the strange feeling in his stomach and narrowing it down to either delight or dismay.
“Husband,” Darrin said firmly. He nudged Felix, nodding toward the entryway. “And wife.”
Felix looked up. Keela stood under the arch at the garden's entrance, watching them expectantly. He met her eyes—beautiful, eerie, otherworldly eyes, silver as his newly acquired gray hairs—and began to smile.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
A Queen Betrothed is the only story in this collection that is not tied directly to Greek heritage. I thought it appropriate to include nonetheless. My writing style today is still heavily influenced by the myths I read as a child, as is my fascination with magic and adventure. A Queen Betrothed follows the son of the heroine Dawn featured in A Queen Crowned and completes this trilogy of queens.
Ο ΑΡΡΑΒΩΝΑΣ ΜΙΑΣ ΒΑΣΙΛΙΣΣΑΣ
Είμαι βασιλιάς, υπενθύμισε στον εαυτό του ο Ευτύχιος. Βασιλιάς, σαν τον Δάρωνα. Πήδηξε από τη σέλα για να χαιρετίσει τον οικοδεσπότη του. O Βασιλιάς Δάρων της Αλσαίας ήταν ένας θαρραλέος σύμμαχος όσο κράτησε ένας μακρόχρονος και καταστροφικός πόλεμος και ένα στέρεο στήριγμα συμπαράσταση�
� όσο ο Ευτύχιος προσαρμοζόταν στα απροσδόκητα –και ανεπιθύμητα – βάσανα της βασιλείας. Γνώριζε βέβαια ότι ο θρόνος της Κορφείας θα ήταν δικός του μια μέρα, αλλά ο τρόπος και ο χρόνος που συνέβη αυτό δεν ήταν κάτι που επιθυμούσε. Η βασιλεία, ακόμη και με τις αμφίβολες χάρες της, δεν άξιζε τον θάνατο του πατέρα του.
«Καλώς βρεθήκαμε», χαμογέλασε ο Δάρων, πιάνοντας στοργικά τον ώμο του Ευτύχιου. «Έλα μέσα και αναπαύσου. Θα πω να μας φέρουν κάτι δροσιστικό».
«Εκ μέρους των αντρών μου, σ’ ευχαριστώ. Αλλά σε ότι με αφορά, θα ήθελα να μιλήσουμε πριν οτιδήποτε άλλο», απάντησε ο Ευτύχιος, και το χαμόγελό του σφίχτηκε λίγο.
«Καταλαβαίνω». Ο Δάρων έδωσε μερικές σύντομες διαταγές και έκανε μεταβολή, γνέφοντας στον Ευτύχιο να τον ακολουθήσει.
«Συμπέρανα από το γράμμα σου ότι δεν πρόκειται για μια απλή κοινωνική επίσκεψη», παρατήρησε ο Δάρων, όταν βολεύτηκαν σ΄ ένα δωμάτιο που ο Ευτύχιος υπέθεσε ότι ήταν το προσωπικό γραφείο του Δάρωνα. «Πρέπει να ξέρεις πως ότι κι αν χρειαστείς θα το έχεις, αν έχω την εξουσία να στο δώσω».
«Τα λόγια σου πραγματικά μ’ ανακουφίζουν», είπε ο Ευτύχιος κοιτάζοντας το κεντημένο χαλί στα πόδια του. «Αλλά δε μπορώ να δεχτώ τέτοια εν λευκώ υπόσχεση».
Ο Δάρων χαμογέλασε. «Έλα τώρα, Ευτύχιε. Δε μπορεί να είναι τόσο άσχημα τα πράγματα. Τι χρειάζεσαι; Εφόδια για τον χειμώνα που έρχεται; Δεν πρέπει να ντρέπεσαι να ζητήσεις βοήθεια. Η Κορφεία άντεξε στην ορμή των εισβολέων. Σας χρωστάμε τις ζωές μας – σίγουρα δεν θα σας αρνηθούμε λίγο στάρι». «Ευχαριστώ». Ο Ευτύχιος άλλαξε θέση για να χαλαρώσει ένα ξαφνικό σφίξιμο στα σωθικά του. «Αλλά φοβάμαι ότι αυτό είναι μόνο το ένα από τα δύο πράγματα που θέλω να σου πω».
The Roots Of Our Magic Page 16
