“You’ve been spending a lot of time with King Ben lately. Is this how girls in Ivenbury advance themselves, by stalking men with stations out of their reach?” Lily popped her eyes at me.
“I think you would have appreciated the intellectual conversation. We talked about mirror magic and dragons and other worlds. He also said you have potential.”
“Oh? He did?” Suddenly Lily’s nasal, know-it-all voice had gone fluttery and soft.
Deflection successful. I winked at Callie, who had been looking worried.
Somehow I resisted the temptation to add, “He also said you and Rosalyn ought to do your duty as mentors.”
“Ben is an honorable man,” Paxta said over her brush. “He would never take advantage of a woman, noble or common.”
Paxta had said it, and so it was, at least while she was present. Somehow Rosalyn and Lily held back from proclaiming their views until the moment the princess had left for the royal baths (separate from the ones everyone else used).
“Oh, her father would be devastated if he knew!” proclaimed Rosalyn the drama queen.
“Yes, I know! To fall in love with a king is suitable, but the monarch of some islands in the middle of nowhere! What good is that?” As usual, Lily’s condescending tone implied she considered herself the expert.
I bit back a question of what Paxta’s father had to do with it. Aurlien was a queendom, after all.
“If she were an ugly daughter or disobedient, I could see the wisdom of sending her away to distant lands,” Lily droned on. She was going to be a trial if she ever became a professor.
“But Paxta is so beautiful and good,” Rosalyn mused. “They’ll want to keep her near Aurlien. She’ll make the people happy.”
“I think Paxta and Ben would be lovely together,” Callie said, surprising me. “I envision them passing laws that people had to be kind to one another!”
“What’s gotten into you, pustule? Such ridiculous childish nonsense. Do you still believe in fairy tales?” Lily tittered, and Rosalyn giggled behind her hand.
“Do you have someone you care about, Leah?” Callie said, pointedly ignoring the older girls.
“I do.” I tried to see Gerry in my mind’s eye, only for my head and heart to conspire together to show me Tolliver. It just wasn't fair! I never felt that kind of guilt when I met up with Ben! Most of the time, he wasn't in my thoughts, unlike Tolliver who stayed there, seemingly indefinitely.
“But it’s a long story,” I answered at last. “I’ll tell you some other time.”
“Buying time to make up a sweetheart, are you, Leah of Ivenbury?” Rosalyn sneered as she blew out the candle, and darkness took over the room.
I climbed into bed, too paralyzed with guilt to reply. Finding Gerry had become such a long, cumbersome process. And yet, I knew if I happened upon the dragon tomorrow, there’d be little I could actually do to help.
But, I reminded myself, I had Ben’s friendship. If I had any hope of acquiring some useful skills and knowledge, it was in him.
Still I wondered. Would I even remember Gerry’s face when I finally found him?
Chapter Ten
Declaration of War
The next day, the morning messenger made his rounds of the Tower rooms, blowing his horn and knocking on doors. Between him and the bells, there was no need for an alarm clock. I always viewed the messenger with an emotion approaching animosity. For all the commotion he stirred up, the only letter he’d ever brought me was Queen Arencaster’s one-word note.
But today…
Today he had two notes for me. The first was from Ben. Meet me after breakfast, his cramped, scholarly script instructed. I wondered what he wanted. It could be as simple as excitement to discuss California. Or maybe he had really good news that had to stay secret, like Elijah’s return date.
The second message bore Queen Arencaster’s seal, which I covered with my hand. An Ivenbury noble had little reason to receive correspondence from the queen, after all. Throwing on my robe and shoes, I tiptoed down the hall to the study room and lit a candle. By now, my hands were shaking. What news might lie under that wax oak leaf? Had Fiona been found? What of Latule?
My daughter, Queen Arencaster’s spidery script greeted me. I summon you to a meeting at the Ceredwyn palace. My escort awaits you at the front gates of Valeriya Tower.
The queen had a knack for leaving you wondering what was going on, I reflected. Though in my case, wondering was quickly escalating to worrying.
I hurried back into the dorm room. My roommates were too busy with their own messages and getting ready for the day to notice how quickly I dressed, how I threw on Fiona’s warmest cloak. The first day of winter was not far off. As I sped down the stairs, Ben’s message in one deep cloak pocket and the queen’s in the other, I tried to predict what this meeting was for and how long it would take. Maybe Professor Tala had complained to Elijah, though the ride from Autumnstead to Valeriya seemed too far for a mere scolding.
The tower halls, drafty and dim on the warmest days, seemed snug, cozy, and positively bright compared to advancing winter outside. The servants had barely opened the door when the wind struck, piercing my cloak and long-sleeved gown, a sword cutting through spider webs. Flurries rode the gusts, one minute darting groundward, then back up to the sky. The sun had risen just enough for me to see the Tower grounds covered in white. I shivered, thinking of the Portalis bench, possibly rimed with icicles.
At the bottom of the stairs, my carriage awaited. The horses’ breath hung in the air. Once inside, I peered out the window at the Tower. Thick gray clouds obscured the upper levels of the funereal monument.
It was a silent ride, and a chill one. To my great disappointment, only three guards escorted the carriage, none of them Tolliver.
At one point, I almost forgot myself and asked to stop at a hot potato stall. My hands were so cold, I could barely feel my fingers. Not that this stopped me from keeping the curtain pulled back most of the time.
Despite my uncertainty of what this meeting entailed, it was thrilling to get out of the tower that had been my home for the past month. The Ceredwyn marketplace bustled, filled with good smells and people dressed in so many layers, they looked like piles of clothes or furs come to life. Around every turn, it seemed, we encountered companies of soldiers, young men in silver breastplates and red cloaks. Had I seen them my last time in Ceredwyn? If not, what were they doing here now?
Beyond the market, the carriage turned onto a stone bridge that rose high above the rooftops. Now I had my unobstructed view of Ceredwyn the Gray. Higher and higher we climbed, until I saw the silver river and tips of pine trees below us. This roller coaster-steep bridge ultimately led to Ceredwyn’s palace, high on a snow-covered hill (which was actually more like a small mountain.) From the needle-sharp points of its ruby-red cone roofs, to the abundant soaring towers, to the spacious boulevard leading to the main gate, Ceredwyn Castle was a dazzling Prince Charming among castles. In the morning gloom, golden lights shone out of the windows.
Any awe I’d felt at Castle Autumnstead and Valeriya Tower dissipated.
We passed through three gates and finally stopped at a covered archway, where palace footmen opened the carriage door. A rotund man in a fur-lined jacket and plumed hat extended his hand to me. “Princess Fiona,” he greeted me.
I made a small curtsey. After a few months of talking, being enchanted again would take some getting used to.
“I am Lionel de Marquier, majordomo of King Pharris Alistair. I will take you to the conference room where your mother awaits.”
“We would like to come with her, sir,” one of my guards said in a firm tone indicating it was not a request.
“Yes, of course.” Lionel beckoned for us to follow him.
We crossed marbled floors in white and black like a vast chessboard, richly-carpeted stairs winding toward chandeliers that shone like small suns, corridors furnished with generations of paintings and statues, Lionel’s feathers bobbi
ng ever before us. And then, he stopped, raised one lace-trimmed, gloved hand to knock on a gilded door flanked by columns. “Sir and Madam, Princess Fiona is here with her entourage.” Lionel held the door open for us. I started to enter, only to have one of my guards step in front of me.
“Excuse me, Princess,” he said gruffly. “We cannot be too careful.” He pushed past me, loosening his sword in its scabbard. “It is safe,” he announced after a brief survey of the room. The other guards relaxed somewhat, still keeping their hands on their swords.
More than ever, the question burned my lips. What was happening?
The conference room, I discovered when I could view it for myself, had only two people: Queen Arencaster and —
Lionel cleared his throat. “Princess, may I present High King Pharris Alistair.”
This was the king? He had to be, with all those medals and fancy scrollwork on his jacket. But…he was so short! The top of his head didn’t reach my shoulder. The Portalis animators would have a field day with him.
“I will leave you now to your discussions.” Lionel bowed and swept grandly out of the room.
“My daughter.” Queen Arencaster rose and inclined her head to me. “It has been so long,” she said without a trace of emotion. It seemed kind of bleak that this stiff behavior must be comparable to hugging back home. Or maybe it was just the queen. I made a little curtsy without speaking.
“The time has come for you to leave the Tower of Valeriya,” the queen said. “War has come to Autumnstead.”
“War?” I stopped just short of exclaiming. I looked from the queen to the white-haired king, willing one of them to answer the questions I couldn’t ask.
“Latule has at last succumbed to the ambition that has gnawed them for over a decade,” Queen Arencaster said. “The house, and my sister in particular, has many friends in the capital. If they learned you were here alone, they would surely attempt to take you prisoner. For that reason, I must get you home before winter makes the roads impassable. We shall travel together with my contingent.”
“And do not forget the men that I shall provide for My Lady,” King Pharris said.
“You are most kind,” Queen Arencaster said. For a wonder, she sounded a little embarrassed. Knowing her, she saw asking for help as a sign of weakness.
“I would never refuse a lady in need.” King Pharris winked at her, a sight their differences in stature made downright absurd. If anything, he looked like he would need the queen’s aid. “Jests aside, the situation in your kingdom much resembles that in mine. In my case, the house of Alistair has borne the house of Merdir’s plots and attempts at aggression for many years. I would be more than happy to teach Latule and Merdir who is monarch of both our lands.”
That made sense. Latule might be the most militant of the three autumn lands, but I doubted they had enough men to war on Autumnstead by themselves.
“That is a lesson both are much in need of learning,” Queen Arencaster said, as close to enthusiasm as I’d ever seen her. “Between Alistair, Arencaster, and Ivenbury, we should be able to make our point.”
So Ivenbury had allied with Arencaster. I felt better, hearing that, especially knowing that Queen Arencaster and Lady Lavinia were both born into that house.
“Thank you again, King Alistair,” Queen Arencaster said. “For the food, the wine, safe lodging, and your aid in this skirmish. I must return to my people but will look with confidence to the east, knowing your men are on their way.”
“I expect a day or two will be needed to mobilize everything. Then my soldiers shall ride with all speed to Autumnstead.” King Alistair bowed to each of us in turn. “Farewell, Queen. Farewell, fair princess. May the fortunes of war favor you and permit us to meet again.”
“Until that time, kind king. Farewell.” Queen Arencaster made a deep curtsy.
With my guards, we exited Ceredwyn Castle. I started to follow the queen to her carriage, but she gestured toward the one the had brought me. I sighed. I supposed traveling separately was a good security measure, but I had so much I wanted to ask her. Not to mention, the current carriage was smaller and more uncomfortable than the one that had brought me to Valeriya Tower (quite a feat, I might add). I passed the morning’s bumpy, swaying ride thinking with amused horror what I would do if the queen were taken, forcing me to assume command as princess.
Soon the cold overcame me, crowding out my worries. I shivered and wrapped my arms tighter around myself until I had no strength left. I’d been in such a hurry to answer the queen’s summons, I hadn’t eaten breakfast. Now I thought with longing of Valeriya bread with jam and sweet butter. By now, the first and second years would be immersed in lectures, notes, and assignments, with a few hours til lunch.
What would Callie think of my disappearance? I winced. I had left her without warning, not so much as a hint. Though to be fair to me, I’d thought I’d be back before the end of the day. The possibility of war between Arencaster and Latule hadn’t entered my mind. At the rate things were going, there was every possibility I wouldn’t see Callie again, depending on how the war went and whether I returned to the tower before she left. I would have to write to her, to let her know that I hadn’t willingly abandoned her to Rosalyn and Lily.
And Ben. I was supposed to meet him in the Grand Hall for breakfast. We could have learned so much from each other. Stupid war! I just needed a few meetings with Ben to learn about mirror magic. Latule just had to declare war right when I met him!
It couldn’t be helped, I told myself. And being mad wasn’t warming me up as I’d hoped. In my letter to Callie, I’d urge her to befriend Ben. Among other things, he could help her with Rosalyn and Lily. And I would write an apology to Ben. Maybe through our letters, we could have the conversations we should have had at the Tower, and I could learn about my powers, other worlds, and tell him about California. It would take forever, though.
Poor Gerry. Poor me. We might be thirty before we got out of here.
The carriage came to a halt. Unlike before, it wasn’t a relief, but a cause for more worry. I had no weapons. Not that they would have helped much in an attack, but it would have been comforting. For a breathless moment, I waited, listening for suspicious sounds outside. I did have a weapon, I realized through the hammering of my heart and attempts to quiet my gasping breath: elements. If anyone attacked me, I could destroy them the way I had the cauldron and the bread. It was a strange, morbid thought, considering I’d never deliberately hurt anyone in my life.
The carriage opened upon a scene of wintry hills, of bustling soldiers and horses. Armor and furs covered the soldier holding the door so that only his gray eyes gleamed out at me. As I emerged, he moved his scarf just enough so I could glimpse his mischievous smile and a few stray strands of long, wheat-colored hair.
“Faxon!” I never thought I’d all but squeal in delight to see the fair-haired man.
Faxon raised his finger to his lips.
“The queen’s carriage is stuck, so they called an early halt for lunch.” Faxon grinned. “It appears that Tower life has agreed with you.”
“Just the food,” I admitted. “I was on the verge of actually learning about mirror magic when this war started.”
Faxon shook his head. “War is never convenient. But I’m surprised the Tower wasn’t more helpful.”
“It’s a long story,” I said.
“Ah, but where are my manners? You’re probably ready to eat and stretch your legs.”
Faxon’s manners were exactly where they’d always been: the realm of good intentions, I thought. Still, it was so good to see him, I set aside my feelings about our personality differences and accepted his arm to help me through the snow. My long dress made the going slow; no matter how I lifted the skirts, there was always some fabric dragging on the ground. I was enjoying my freedom from the carriage confines and half-listening to Faxon when I saw the single soldier building our fire. A brief tingle started at the back of my mind as the breeze caught his hair,
long and dark.
Tolliver.
It was like my mind had him on speed dial for recognition, despite months passing since we’d last spoken.
He turned to see whose footsteps were crunching in the snow and broke into a smile at once. “My Lady,” he murmured, as soft as the snowflakes.
“It’s good to see you,” I said, my own voice demure.
“Likewise.”
Our eyes caught and held one another in the embrace that would be a social blunder in this time and place.
Faxon glanced from Tolliver to me and shook his head. “Let us prepare for lunch now. We can speak of the past months while we eat.” His usual know-it-all edge was softened, somewhat. Maybe our reunion had touched him.
Lunch consisted of venison, product of the good hunting season, which would give Autumnstead better odds in the war.
“Did they treat you well in the Tower, My Lady?” Tolliver was quick to ask.
I updated them briefly about my mostly fruitless endeavors in elements and mirrors. “When I wrote to Queen Arencaster some weeks ago, she urged me to ‘persevere.’ Were events in Autumnstead leaning toward war that early?”
“So long as Lady Lavinia lives, conflict is never far behind,” Faxon grumbled. “The woman stirs it up like embers in a fireplace.”
Tolliver considered his response thoughtfully. “The queen may have received Latule’s letter around that time. It stated various reasons Queen Arencaster must surrender the throne and warned that Latule would consider refusal a declaration of war.”
“Before that, Her Majesty had several tense audiences with the Three Houses and their councilors,” Faxon said. “The ultimatum may have drawn from those discussions and twisted the disagreements.”
“Lady Lavinia is such a snake!” I waved my stick of venison in the air, a spear to smite her. “I’m just grateful we have allies in this.”
Rescuing the Prince Page 12
