“They should be here tomorrow. I rode ahead—”
Jossa cuts him off before he can finish. “So you could spend more time with Roselyn? How precious. She has nothing to do but be with you. Why not start the festivities early?” She raises her glass before taking a drink.
Chavez looks to me and back to her, just as confused as the rest of us. He truly didn’t have any idea about Jossa.
I know it wasn’t me he wished to see and spend time with. Even so, why not come weeks in advance? Why come now?
Things aren’t adding up. Suddenly, I am grateful the queen is forcing me to spend time with Chavez. It means I will be able to speak to him without her listening to my every word, coaching me on what to say.
I very much wish this brunch would pass quickly. Jossa continues to drink and eat and laugh and be loud. Chavez remains quiet, speaking scarcely, looking at me often, and trying to enjoy his food without Jossa falling all over him.
“You there.” Jossa points to a serving boy. He looks up and stammers.
“Y—yes?”
“You are to escort the prince and princess on their walk.” She smiles, as if proud of herself. But having this boy around is dangerous. I need to speak to Chavez freely.
“Actually, Mother, I had hoped that my maid could escort us,” I counter, hoping she allows me this one small mercy.
“Very well. We will need all the helpful servants in here, preparing for the wedding.” She says this as if her words won’t affect Madrid in the least. The helpful servants? Whatever in this world does she have against my maid?
Madrid remains silent, so I do not say anything more, afraid it will only make the situation worse. And with that I take it as a sign for us to leave. I come to my feet and wait for Chavez to follow suit. He holds out his arm, so I take it and allow him to lead me out through the dining hall door.
Another servant is already waiting with our cloaks, including one for Madrid. I thank her before letting the prince lead me outside.
The wind has picked up. The rain is coming down harder, still stinging with every drop, but it appears to have dulled a bit.
“How have you enjoyed Tivor thus far?” I ask him, a look of discomfort on my face as I play my part. He appears to be happy, even if only on the outside. I know all too well about pretending.
“It has been quite enjoyable.” His voice catches. “The queen certainly has everything in order, and appears quite eager for the wedding.” He clears his throat, his tone suggesting this isn’t a compliment.
“You do not have to spare my feelings toward her. She is eager to get rid of me so she can have the kingdom all to herself.”
He looks quite taken aback. “But she won’t have it to herself, will she? What of the king?”
“I’m sure she’ll find a way around that. As it is, he’s hardly here. He’s never taken control. She runs the kingdom, even if she’s only the queen.”
“You don’t seem happy about this. Does she not do a good job?”
“It isn’t about that. She has no concern for the people—only greed, and even the best people can be ruined by that kind of control. She is determined to get rid of me. Why? I don’t stand in her way. She could allow me to marry Osric, to be happy, and still get what she wants.”
“Why won’t she allow that?” He looks at me. Our feet stop working at the same time, so we stand still. I question how much I can tell him. Should he know the truth?
Chavez looks back at the castle, then to me. “Do you think we’ve gone far enough now?”
I look back as well. Madrid is keeping her distance so we can speak in private, but staying close enough not to lose sight of us.
“Let’s move a bit farther into the woods,” I suggest, and continue walking forward. He follows suit, his arm still entwined with mine. I keep looking back until we’re surrounded by trees, with no part of the castle in sight. “I think we’re gone far enough now.”
I remove my arm from the prince’s and step back. Madrid jumps into Chavez’s arms. He spins her around, kissing her on the lips. Her cheeks turn bright red, but she kisses him back. I turn away, wandering off alone to give them a moment.
Jossa can never know that every time Chavez comes here, it’s to see not me, but my maid. Our little secret. Just as Chavez knows that Osric is mine.
The first time I told Chavez the truth was a night I’ll never forget. I wander to the very meadow where I spilled my heart out, just the thought taking me back to that cool summer night only a year ago.
Prince Chavez had been here a month already, and still, I couldn’t find reasons to let go of my feelings for Osric in trade for Chavez. So I played nice, pretending to be enjoying myself, and all the while, I wished I were dancing with my prince, speaking with him, taking long walks with him, riding with him, being with him.
Chavez was pleasant company, no doubt. He was kind, caring, a gentlemen in every way. He is just as kind to Madrid as he is me, which I appreciate. But still, I was at a loss when it came to how this could possibly end well for everyone.
As I arrived at breakfast, Mother clapped excitedly. “Oh, Roselyn, you’re here! Fantastic timing. I think today would be a splendid time for you to show Prince Chavez the gardens. Take him to the forest edge and show him around.” The glint in her eyes told me something was very wrong with this, but how could I argue? Chavez was here to spend time with me so we could get to know one another before our wedding in one year. Unless Osric and I could stop that from happening somehow—but none of our attempts had worked just yet.
Realizing I had not answered Mother, I turned my attention back to her. “Of course. I would love that, if Prince Chavez is willing.” I looked at him, hoping he wished to do something else—on his own, preferably.
“I would love to see the gardens.” He smiled at me, and for a moment, I truly felt sorry for him. It wasn’t his fault I had no feelings toward him aside from friendship. He didn’t ask for this any more than I did. And yet, here he was, trying his hardest to win me over and getting nowhere because he didn’t know that my heart already belonged to someone else.
“Splendid! You two will have a grand time. The weather is perfect. In fact, perhaps you should take a basket filled with goodies and have a picnic while you are out there.” Mother clapped her hands again, thrilled with herself.
“That would be lovely,” I commented, a smile on my face. But on the inside, all hope seemed to vanish.
“I agree. The weather is very pleasant here. Even when the sun shines, it does not feel like it will roast you alive,” Chavez joked, I’m sure in reference to his home.
Breakfast was eaten hurriedly, and not a moment after, Mother was parading us out the castle doors, a basket shoved in Madrid’s hands. This was planned long before the idea was presented to me and the prince, of that I’m sure. How else could she have gotten a basket ready so quickly?
I led the way, staying ten steps in front of Chavez the entire time. I only looked back once to make sure he was still following me before I continue forward, marching to the meadows Mother spoke of.
No doubt the area was beautiful, peaceful and quiet, secluded so no prying eyes or ears could spy on us. And right then, that is what I needed because I couldn’t go another day with this charade. He must know the truth.
I looked back again. Chavez was taking longer now, admiring the beauty we were surrounded by. I marched back to him, took hold of his arm—giving Madrid a knowing look—and disappeared into the trees.
“Where are we going?” He laughed nervously.
I didn’t let go or slow down, nor did I answer him. I ran until we reached the river bed. With the sound of rushing water calming my nerves, I dropped Chavez’s hand and turned to face him.
“Your Highness, please.” I shivered. “Prince Chavez, I cannot marry you.” I shook my head as I spoke, unable to hold still. “I’m sorry. I love Prince Osric, and it wouldn’t be fair to you if we go through with this.” My words were caught up in the shaking of
my voice, but I continued. “Please don’t make me marry you. Please break off the betrothal.” I put my hands over my face, unable to look at him.
I heard the rustle of fabric, was enveloped by his arms as he wrapped them around me. My heart stuttered, beating erratically. A strong, calloused hand cupped my cheek, the other hand tilting my jaw up to look at him. “Dear Roselyn, I want you.” He gently wiped away the tears still streaming down my face, and my heart stopped. I couldn’t breathe as he leaned closer. I then knew his answer. I closed my eyes, unable to bear what I thought he would do next. When his lips didn’t press against mine, but instead his breath was hot on my ear, I startled. “To be happy,” he finished.
“You mean . . . ?”
“I will not marry you when it is not I you want. I could never put you through the same unbearable pain I myself am facing.” He stepped back, grasping my hands in his.
“You’re in love with someone else.” A small smile played on my lips.
“Yes. Though, you do have the advantage. Your one true love is royalty, whereas mine is a servant. And while it does not affect my feelings for her, my parents would hardly approve.”
My smile fell. “True love shouldn’t be bound by status. Even if Osric weren’t a prince, I would love him anyway. Perhaps this is your chance to show the world that royalty does not equal snobbishness.”
I sat on a log and pulled him down beside me. “Don’t let this stop you from following your heart, Chavez. Love will always find a way. If it’s meant to be, if your love is true, then it’s possible to be happy with her, whoever she is. Do not allow anyone to tell you that you shouldn’t be with her because she’s not royalty. Why not just be with the one you love?”
“I wish more people saw things the way you do. I believe a lot more people would be happy. I want you to know that if your heart did not already belong to someone else, I would gladly learn to love you because you make it so easy.” He leaned closer and kissed my cheek.
“Who is she, the one you do love?” I smiled, grateful that, after all, we could be friends.
“I do not know if it is a good idea for me to tell you, of all people, considering you are closer to her than anyone.”
My heart beat a little faster. “Madrid.” Her name escaped my lips before I could think about it.
Chavez turned away from me, his cheeks red from blushing. “It could never be, though. I do not even know if she cares for me. After all, I am to marry you.”
I rested my hand on his arm. “I do not think that is something you need to worry about.” “I will take that into great consideration, Your Highness.” He nodded a bow.
“I must warn you, though,” I said in a more serious tone. “If you break her heart, it will not be forgotten or forgiven, Prince.” I gave him my most stern look.
“I assure you, that will also be taken into great consideration, Your Highness.” He looked at me meaningfully, but a hint of a smile plays on his lips.
“Good.” Relief flooded me, knowing he was on my side.
“Would it be acceptable if I were to approach her now and let her know of my feelings?” Chavez then looked bashful.
“Go. I’ll be right here waiting. Just don’t be too long because I would hate for anyone to see you two alone and for word to get back to my mother. I can only imagine what kind of war it would start, considering everything.”
“Of course. I will be right back. And Roselyn?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you!”
“Thank you, Chavez.” I smiled and watched as the prince I was supposed to marry walked away in search of my maid and best friend. Perhaps there was hope left after all.
The sound of giddy laughter brings me back to the present. Madrid and Osric walk hand in hand toward me, smiles on their faces, a bounce in their step.
“I hate to tear you away from the moment, but we do need to get to Nadi’s before someone notices we’re not where we need to be,” I say to both of them.
“Of course, milady. I am sorry we took so long. Let us go, then.” She turns, heading for the village just beyond the market, where Nadi lives.
Chavez falls back, now walking beside me. Once we reach the forest line, Madrid steps into place behind us, as it should be if Chavez and I were truly in love, planning on getting married.
Once there, Madrid approaches the door and knocks while Chavez and I stand aside, all three of us playing our parts.
He opens his mouth as if to speak, but it is not his voice I hear. “Your Highness,” Madrid interrupts. “Nadi awaits you.” I look at her and nod.
“It appears the seamstress is ready to for us,” I say to Chavez. I move to follow Madrid, but Chavez doesn’t allow our interlinked arms to separate.
The seamstress smiles when I walk into her little cottage. I note how all the structures in this part of the kingdom seem untouched by the storm. “Welcome!” She wraps her arms around me. I’m a little stunned, not used to such affection.
“I’m sorry, Your Highness. I am so sorry. Please forgive me.” She steps back quickly, realizing what she did.
I laugh. “Nadi, it’s all right.” I return her hug, and the woman relaxes.
“Thank you, Roselyn. Now, you in this room, and the prince over here. I would hate for him to see your dress before the wedding.” She pushes the prince into another room and calls for one of her children, Ellie, to begin my measurements while she works with the prince.
Ellie walks into the room timidly, hardly looking at me as she asks for me to move one way or another.
Madrid stands in the corner dutifully and waits for something to do. I wish to speak with her in private. If it were Nadi in the room, I would speak aloud, but with Ellie, I know not what could tempt her to speak of what she heard.
I need Madrid’s help to spy on the queen. That is not a matter lightly discussed, and certainly not within earshot of anyone I do not trust with my life.
She looks at me quizzically, an eyebrow raised, completely prepared to do whatever I ask of her. She may hate me for what I need her to do, or it may end up being the best day of her life.
Selma has tossed and turned, moaned and shivered. But she has yet to wake. I sit and watch over her, waiting for something to happen. She gave us clues, hinted at something huge, and left us without the answers.
The woman who shouldn’t be queen. Those words replay over and over.
Gwydion continues flipping through page after page of his book, searching for any information. Thus far, every queen’s story is true. They are all royal born, gifted with magic through blood.
It wouldn’t make sense for any of them to need the Oracle’s magic, so we continue waiting, and the time is passing by. I fear what will happen if this isn’t resolved before the storm is too strong to stop.
“What happens to Selma when this is all over?” I ask.
“I die,” a weak female voice replies. I look down at the Oracle and find her eyes open.
“You’re awake!” It surprises me. Not two seconds ago, I was watching her, and she looked like she would never wake again.
“My time is not yet here, but it nears. Prince, please allow me to speak to the wizard alone.” She squeezes my hand. I nod and walk to where Gwydion sits, lost in his book.
“She wishes to speak with you,” I announce before walking a little farther to the edge and sitting down. I’m cold. Everything is ice up here. I attempt to find warmth by looking out over the valley, if only to distract myself from the lack of heat. The world has grown dark, but off in the distance, a tiny sliver of Tivor is visible.
I wonder where Roselyn is, what she’s doing. If I were to make a guess, I would say she is working to break off the engagement. Perhaps arguing with her mother—finding another way to save us. I thought that was my job. I thought I was risking everything by coming here to fix the mess I made, to ensure that Rose and I still had a fighting chance.
But I realize that actually, it’s up to her. I might not make it off this m
ountain in time for the wedding—or hopefully, the lack thereof. I rest my head in my hands and try to not think about it. If I had ignored the wizard and just continued on to the castle, this might never have happened. I brought this upon us by giving her the enchanted rose. Our fates are bound to it.
Gwydion sits beside me with a disgruntled look.
“Why did you offer me that rose?” I turn just enough to face him. I need to know what I ever did to him to deserve this kind of torment in my life.
“You remember the fairies, yes?” He looks out around us.
I gaze up at the sky, noticing how much darker it’s gotten. It doesn’t seem right that something so dark and evil, something causing so many people such an amount of pain, can still be beautiful to the eye.
“Of course.” I nod, thinking particularly of the one who gave me the roses to begin with.
“They work for me. And like many creatures in our world, they thrive on magic. Each one has a unique power, a gift. They find my clients for me by telling me what they need.”
“The fairies find clients for you?” I raise an eyebrow, trying to grasp this concept, and ensure I know what he means.
“Yes. Each of them possesses a gift for certain magic. Ophelia is the most attuned to the woes of love. She can sense when someone’s worry in life is about the loss of love or of never finding it to begin with.”
“And she told you I had those concerns? Who I was?” It wasn’t fate or destiny that brought me to the wizard. It was a fairy, looking for a client.
“I already knew who you were, the moment I saw you. You walk like a prince. There is an air of royalty about you.”
“You realize, that rose could be the undoing of any chance I had to be with Roselyn. Because of this storm, the lack of magic, the rose is now turning red. You said it yourself, Gwydion—once that happens, our chance is lost.”
“Ophelia knew that you suffered from the fear of losing the one you actually love. She could feel your pain. I would not have offered you that rose had she not been adamant that I help you. It’s why I didn’t ask for money or riches of any kind. I asked you for a favor. I didn’t want for this to happen. There’s no coming back from making royalty your mortal enemy, but the fairy begged that I help you. I tried to help Ophelia, and I was too late. But there was still hope for you, so how could I tell her no?” “If you’ve already failed once, what makes you think you should try again? Now you’ll have messed up two relationships, not just one.”
The Enchanted Rose Page 10
