Unspoken

by Celia Mcmahon

  Ashe shifted his eyes to me as his smile faded. It didn't last very long. He broke into a grin and rolled his eyes as the woman took his arm. As she led him back to her table and pushed him down into a chair, the crowd began to expand.

  “I won’t answer one question,” said Ashe, his face twisted into embarrassment. He let the old woman take his left hand and turn it palm up.

  “Strong,” she said, stretching the word out.

  Ashe was tight-lipped as the

  old woman turned his left hand over and lowered her brows. “This one is nothing,” she grumbled suddenly, dropping his hand and taking the right.

  “What does that mean?” I inquired.

  “Missing,” she replied vaguely, her face practically shoved into Ashe’s palm. “That one is missing. Here, this one is good.”

  Ashe gave me a look of amusement. The old woman’s jar sat on the ground beside the prince. He dropped in more coin than I expected him to.

  The old crone was crazy, but he indulged her anyway.

  She held Ashe’s right hand for a bit longer and then let it drop to his lap. She cocked her head like a puppy. Her silver eyebrows drew together. “I see goodness in your future,” she said, with a soft voice that came like a breeze. “I see love and many, many children.” She bowed down to him with a crooked, gap-toothed smile. “All boys.”

  “Well, that comes as a relief,” Ashe said with a good laugh. Some people in the crowd joined him. He gazed my way as the light caught his eyes. He stood up, demanded my hand, and kissed the upper side of my wrist. “I wouldn’t know a lick about how to raise a daughter, if she’s anything like this one.”

  The crowd roared and began clapping as Ashe held his lips to my skin longer than it took for my cheeks to grow hot and my nerves to spark.

  “Enough spectacle,” I told him, holding back my grin. “You’ve already lost enough coin. Let’s go.”

  We pushed our way through the crowd to the street. I sucked in the sweet, clean air. My stomach groaned at the smell of fresh bread wafting from a nearby bakery, where my legs were already carrying me. The bearded baker was already preparing to welcome me when our eyes met. But before we could get across the way, we heard, “Wait!”

  The old woman rushed forward and closed the space between us. Ashe put a hand to the hilt of his sword and stepped in front of me. She peered around Ashe’s tall frame, ignoring him entirely. She made a move, but Ashe firmly grasped her forearm and leaned in.

  “Age does not excuse bad manners,” he said firmly. “Ask permission before approaching the princess.”

  By now the crowds had come to a standstill, as if everyone had taken a breath at the same time. I shook my head. It couldn’t hurt to give the woman one more minute of our time.

  I put a gentle hand on Ashe. He stepped aside and cast a furtive look through his long eyelashes. “What is your name?” I asked the old woman.

  “Abiyaya,” she replied and sidled up to me. She removed my hood and took a strand of hair between her thumb and forefinger. This close, her eyes were dark—almost black—and she held my gaze. She lowered her hand, and that was when I saw them. At least four or five deep wounds had permanently disfigured her skin. Old wounds, long healed, but pitted and ridged. I had seen these types of injuries before in the dungeon infirmary while shadowing Pyrus.

  These were the marks of someone who had been bitten by an animal.

  “What happened to you?” I asked.

  “A beast,” she replied without hesitation. “The same one I see in you, Princess Isabelle. Branded, marked. You are the beast.”

  My head jolted back in disbelief. Her words sent an icy draft through my body. Not only had I allowed her to touch me, but Ashe had dumped almost his entire coin bag into her stupid jar, and now she was insulting me?

  “I thought you were going to read me,” I said. “I won’t give a penny until I hear how many puking children I will have.”

  Abiyaya went back to her table. The crowds had gone back to normal now, and for a moment Abiyaya was blocked from view when she said, “None, princess. You will have none.”

  I pivoted my eyes to Ashe, whose look resembled something suddenly wounded. He didn’t believe Abiyaya, did he? If he did, that would mean his sons wouldn’t also be mine, and that stung at my heart.

  He couldn’t believe her. If he did, he’d have her arrested for practicing magic.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, not even knowing what I was apologizing for.

  He looked at me and flashed a bright smile. “Hey, let’s go, huh?”

  We found a stand and ordered two drinks and another few apples on our way back to our horses. By now, most vendors were closing their doors, having sold out of produce or loaves of bread and cleaning up for the day. Ashe joked that we had bought out the apple stand, and I would have laughed had he not still had that sad droop to his eyes.

  We neared the town gates, where our horses stood. I was eager to get back to tell Lulu everything that Abiyaya said. Especially now when everything seemed more confusing than not. Before passing through the gate, I glanced over my shoulder. There, a hooded man heaved two large bags atop his horse. He bent down to grab two more, one in each hand, and just as he bent his knees and braced himself to raise them, he caught my stare. His hood dropped just enough to reveal his face.

  A flash of the brightest blue. The color of the seas. They were there and gone in an instant, leaving me to choke on the apple I had mindlessly bitten into.

  “Isabelle?”

  Ashe’s words were too far off to pick up. In my mind, I saw my attacker, with eyes of rage and death and then a shooting star, an arrow of fire across the sky.

  And then before me, the eyes of the one who had saved me.

  The new servant boy, the one from the stairs.

  Suddenly, the bottom of one of the bags he held tore. Without a thought, I rushed over and collected the fruit as it rolled away under people’s boots. I handed him two oranges and tried to catch his gaze, but he had buried his face deep within his hood again. He bowed as a thank you and began tying the bag to the horse’s saddle.

  Was it you? I mouthed the words as my body trembled, hoping he’d turn back to look at me just one more time before he rode away. I stood there for a moment, wondering what to do. If he had been the one to fight off those men that night, how was he alive? He had to be no more than seventeen, and a servant at that. No military background. Nothing that explained how he was living, breathing, and loading fruits and grains in my father’s kitchen.

  Nothing that explained why he wouldn’t even look at the girl for whom he had risked his own life.

  Chapter 10

  I was still shaking by the time we arrived back at the castle, but I guess I hid it well enough because Ashe didn’t mention a word about it. We parted and returned to our respective rooms, but not before a well-intentioned kiss to my cheek that I almost accidentally jerked into a real mouth kiss. Imagine the embarrassment of that.

  I closed my eyes and laid my head back against my closed door. I’m alive because of him.

  I waited for my heart to stop racing to undress. Inside my washroom, I splashed a bit of water onto my face to bring myself back to reality. In my mirror, my eyes gawked back at me, dark and wild. I gave my head a swift shake and stood naked in front of the mirror. I swear I could see my heart thumping against my skin.

  That boy saved me.

  I tried to keep him out of my head, but my mind kept flashing images of those blue eyes on a sharp face and the way he had purposely tried to avoid looking at me. And every time I went back to that moment, I regretted not saying or doing more to press the matter.

  I looked at my bandage through the mirror and slowly peeled it back. I ripped the last of it free with a shudder. I could barely tell anything had happened, save for the pinkish circle of flesh. Pyrus’ skills went far beyond shaving boar tusks, that’s for sure.

  I was lucky to be alive.

  There was a loud bang as Lulu
burst into my room like a firecracker, startling me from my skin.

  “Tell me that he wasn’t a bad kisser!” she said, draping herself against the doorframe like a wilted leaf.

  I pushed past her into my bedroom without answering. She proceeded to follow me, collapsing onto my bed. She risked wrinkling her gown, but she didn’t seem to care.

  “He wasn’t a bad kisser,” I stated simply. “In fact, we didn’t kiss at all.”

  Lulu sat up slowly. “Is that why you had the look of gloom when you came home?” she asked. “I saw you from my bedroom, Izzy. You looked as if you had just seen a ghost or something.” She paused, her eyes growing to the size of the moon. “Wait. Did you?”

  “Ghosts don’t walk in the sunlight.” My eyes fell to the floor. I arranged my thoughts. I considered what Ashe had said about my mother and then what Abiyaya had called me. A beast. And she had said it as if it were nothing. I should have had her thrown into the dungeons for a night.

  “I like Ashe,” I said. It wasn’t a lie, per se. He’d proven himself much more interesting than other boys I had met. Perhaps because he wasn’t a boy. “He’s charming.”

  Lulu jumped from my bed and threw herself on me. “I knew it!” she exclaimed and began jolting me about. “You can have what Aliper and me have! I knew he’d be the one for you, Izzy!”

  “I wouldn’t go that far.”

  My cousin took that as a cue to shake me further until we found ourselves in a sort of weird slow dance. “My lovely cousin, you will have such a wedding,” she crooned. “Please, please do me a favor, though? Don’t make me wear a hideous gown. Weddings are excellent places for us highborns to meet potential suitors. You know, maybe a captain or something. Maybe someone older. Like Prince Ashe.”

  “I promise you, no hideous gowns if you just let me go!”

  “Deal!”

  I shook her off, dressed, and combed my hair so it fell freely. I ditched the makeup and accessories entirely. I set down my comb just in time for Pedoma to sweep Lulu off my bed to remake it and shove us toward the door.

  In honor of my very first day back to eating in the dining hall, the kitchen staff cooked up the largest hog they could possibly find and set it in the center of the table where a flower arrangement usually stood.

  “What a centerpiece,” my cousin quipped as we strode through the dining hall door. She’d dressed in a simple mossy green gown, a stark contrast to the golden monstrosity Pedoma picked out for me. “Do you suppose I could fit my head in its mouth?”

  “I’d love to see you try,” answered a young guard at the door, who gave a quick smile to Lulu before going back to being stiff as a statue. She grinned as we walked past. I grinned for her.

  Prince Ashe looked especially handsome in all black. He bowed as soon as I approached. He bent to kiss the top of my hand and let his eyes linger on mine when he rose. I sort of wanted to kiss him then and there.

  I’d been kissed before. Many times, in fact. Some were horrid, and by sons of soldiers and lords. Maybe one or two had been enjoyable, but nothing to write about. Books made kissing sound so exquisite, like you realized exactly what you were missing, and that kiss completed the puzzle that was your very being. Why didn’t I feel the heavens and earth crashing together when I kissed a boy? And where were my harps and doves?

  Then entered my mother, and all those dreamy thoughts washed away like sand into the ocean.

  She looked the part of a queen, in an apple red gown with jewels on her neck and wrist. Archibald accompanied her to her seat, grinning like a wolf as he kissed her hand and took his place. Slime. The way he looked at my mother should be illegal. If she had paid more attention to those around her, she would have seen it.

  Servants approached the table. “Wine,” said Archibald as my aunt and uncle entered and took their usual seats. “Is there a soup of the day?”

  The servant nodded and vanished through the doorway to the kitchen just across the way. I looked into Ashe’s deep green eyes and smiled.

  I wondered what it would be like to be married and decided then that maybe it wouldn’t be the best of things. Having to refer to someone else for everything, sharing a room…a bed. The idea of being nude in front of a man was a thought too dreadful to bear in such company as my own family. And Ashe.

  I pulled at the corset under my dress, willing it to loosen so I didn’t feel so feverish.

  But still, I let my thoughts go there, sneaking glances at Ashe. I tried not to stare as he ran a tongue over his lips before taking a drink, or the way he managed to smile in slow motion as if it were a flower sprouting from a bud. And I knew that I’d pegged him wrong.

  I sat quietly as the courses came and went. My mother commented on my clothes, of course, and Archibald downed the wine like a drunken sailor. My aunt and uncle were no better. Lulu stole glances at the young guard by the doors. The room was as disorganized as the thoughts in my head. The only one who appeared to be on level ground was the prince sitting across from me.

  I let out a breath as if I’d been holding it. This prompted a silent, eye-squinting laugh from Ashe. I gifted him a smile of my own that wasn’t forced, for once. My cheeks flamed in embarrassment. I should have turned away—our glances were sure to please my mother, after-all—but he gave me a strange sort of peace. It felt as though he could be somebody important. That is, if it weren’t for other things taking up space in my mind.

  “How was the market today, children?” my mother asked, forcing me from my thoughts.

  Children?

  “We had our futures read,” I replied, surprised at how pleasant I sounded. “Prince Ashe is going to have an army of children at his disposal.”

  My mother’s eyes practically lit up. “Well, isn’t that grand news?”

  “She said I’d have none,” I said, biting into a roll. I spoke through a mouthful and added, “Not so grand.”

  “Those people are crooks,” said my aunt. “I wouldn’t take what they say to heart.”

  I laughed through a gulp of water. “I don’t take much to heart,” I said, wiping my chin. “Just like others I know.” I shot a quick smile to Ashe, but he didn’t return it. He believed Abiyaya, didn’t he?

  My mother studied me warily but said nothing as our plates filled with food. Muddling through the very last course, I saw the blue-eyed servant carrying a pitcher of water and filling our cups. When he got to my seat, I put a hand over the crest of my cup. “No, thanks,” I told him. Our eyes met, and for a moment something passed between us. Only for an instant, but I saw it.

  Lulu kicked my leg under the table. She mouthed, Is that the servant you were talking about?

  “If dessert is anything like this hog, I’m afraid I will have to be carried back to my chambers,” said Archibald.

  Still looking upward at the servant, I stated, “Crim would gladly do so.” The boy eventually broke eye contact, bowed, and walked forth. I turned to the captain of the guard. “Tuck your feet. He misjudges corners.”

  Archibald tipped back in his seat, laughing. “I like her, Prince,” he said to Ashe, who regarded him warmly as the man caught him by the neck and ran his knuckles through his hair. Such a strange man, I thought. And such a patient prince. He’d do well with his projected hoard of strapping, puking sons.

  My sons?

  Back in my room, I let Ashe bid me goodnight with another warm kiss to the top of my hand, and I slipped inside. I counted until I reached one hundred and then I slid back out, down the hall, to the dining hall, and through the wooden doors where the last of the servants had disappeared.

  In the kitchen, cooks cleaned and tidied up the remaining pans and pots, silent save for the clanging of dishes and running water from the sinks. Nobody seemed overly attentive to my presence except the one I came there for. He spotted me from across the room and dashed for the pantry closet on my left.

  “Hey!”

  The kitchen wasn’t very big, full of stoves, sinks, and counters with one large pantry
stocked full of food on shelves as high as the ceiling. Lulu and I would sneak in there sometimes as kids and steal Maurice’s cherry tarts. To this day, he thought it was his employees taking them when he’d lock the kitchen at night.

  Swearing under my breath, I darted toward the servant boy as he moved toward that pantry. I rounded a steel prep table and skidded to a halt at the open pantry door. Once inside, I had him cornered. “I need to speak with you, right this instant,” I said.

  He narrowed his eyes, clearly unimpressed. I took a moment to get my first good look at him. Though he couldn’t seem to wash that irritated look off his face, his eyes still sparked with curiosity, and his mouth twitched. Messy hair—brown like copper—fell onto his forehead and over his ears, framing his sun-bronzed face. There were several freckles on his otherwise unmarred skin. There was something strikingly curious about him. Something that kept me rooted in place.

  He stared back at me, his mouth turned down in a severe scowl. He took a step to get past, but I obstructed the only way out of the tiny room.

  “Why won’t you speak to me?” I finally choked out. He stood mere inches from me, his nose a breath away from my own as if we were about to spar. “Were you out there that night? Tell me if it was you. Please.”

  Finally, he lifted his eyes to meet mine. They were keen hunter’s eyes, the type to suck you in with just a glance. But he didn’t look at me the way I expected he would. He looked at me with nothing less than contempt.

  I balled up both of my fists. Anger boiled inside of me, causing tears to well up behind my eyes. Crying when I was angry was a habit I’d had since birth. I wanted to sob and punch a wall simultaneously, but I’d been practicing controlling my temper, so I merely bit the inside of my cheek and said, “Just give me a nod, then.” Pain usually staved off the tears. “You don’t even have to say anything. Just a nod, all right?”

  In one instant, he nodded, and with a deep exhale, I stepped aside to let him pass. I watched as he walked away. He turned and shot me a look. His features softened and he stuck his thumb over his shoulder. If I wasn’t mistaken, he wanted me to follow him.