I glanced at her and wondered why she was so keen on the topic. I, too, had thought them odd, and the quick resolution did seem too tidy. Does she know more about them? Those were questions for later, however.
Jon shrugged. “If only I had ears in the council, I could tell you how the prince managed such a feat. But I am a lowly servant of the Danhadine crown.” He cast his eyes downward in a decent show of humility.
The countess laughed, and that was the end of it.
“Darling, if you need anything, I will be in my study.” He kissed me on the brow, and I watched him leave, making a show of being a devoted young wife lest the countess get something new to gossip about with courtiers.
“You make a stunning couple,” she remarked as Jon left the courtyard. I was certain he heard her because he swaggered a bit more before disappearing from sight.
I lowered my lashes, mimicking Jon’s humility. “Thank you,” I replied and fretted with the tea things for a moment to pretend to be embarrassed. “Oh!” I said as if just remembering something. “You did not bring along that Danhadine gentlemen. Where is he?”
She smiled and tilted her head at me. “Hilliard? He’s about. I must admit, he is quite like a wild animal. I cannot keep him indoors for very long.”
“I see,” I replied and tried to tactfully bring up the next subject. “He seemed familiar to me upon later reflection. Was he ever in service in western Danhad, perhaps in the Sixton province or even Nanore?”
She shook her head. “I could not say, really. He likes to keep his secrets, and I like the mystery, so we do not share much.” Her gaze towards me had changed subtly. It had gone from one of light interest to scrutiny. I have gotten her attention.
“Of course,” I replied and then lapsed into pensive silence, or so I hoped it seemed.
A few moments passed in this way before the countess asked, “You mentioned you had been to court once, if I am not mistaken?”
I smiled, as I thought she had been keeping tabs upon my doings. “Yes, when I was a young girl, my father and I travelled there together.”
“That is it!” She clapped her hands together. She smirked, and I wondered if she had just made a connection.
“Countess, I would ask a favor of you, if you do not mind.”
She raised an arched brow, and I knew I had her intrigued. “Why, of course, my dear.”
I grabbed a sealed letter from beneath my tray. “I was to go to court and deliver a letter for a travelling companion of mine to the Princess Arlene.”
I approached the countess with the correspondence outstretched. She edged to the lip of her seat and looked prepared to snatch the letter from my very hand.
“What is it?” she asked as she took it with vigor.
I shrugged. “I honestly cannot say. My friend just begged me to deliver it to the princess unopened, and I have been so busy with domestic matters, I have not had a chance to deliver it. I know you are often at the palace, and I thought perhaps you could assist me in this matter.”
She rested the letter on her lap with one hand over it, fingers flexing. “Who is this friend, may I ask?”
“No one you would have heard of, I am sure. She is a young woman of low birth who works in a playhouse in the city.”
The countess’ eyes danced. She thought of Antoinette just as I had intended. She would not deliver the letter without reading it first, and I suspected she would send someone to watch the exchange, as I had hoped. “What colorful company you keep, Duchess Sixton.”
“I suppose I do. It must come from my heritage, not being of noble birth.”
“Indeed.” She looked down at the letter, and I imagined she was plotting ways in which she could crack the seal undetected and reveal the contents. I did not worry that she would find out more than I was willing to reveal.
The letter read: Meet me at the playhouse at 7pm or I will reveal the truth about Sarelle.
I, of course, had no such information about Sarelle. I could think of no other way in which to entice Princess Arlene to speak with me. She had threatened me to not search into Sarelle’s death once, and I hoped the threat that I would divulge her secrets would spurn her enough to come.
“I shall see it delivered,” the countess said after an overlong pause. “You are quite more mysterious than I previously thought, Duchess. I shall have to keep my eye on you.”
I laughed. “I would be honored if you did.”
Johai insisted that he join me at the playhouse. Though I protested that I could manage on my own, it was comforting to have him by my side. He seemed more stable as of late, and I hoped it was a good sign that we were getting closer to the answers to save him. I told Jon of my plans. He laughed but arranged for an unmarked carriage to take us to the playhouse. I departed with playful warnings that he would not bail me out if the princess’ temper proved too much for my farce.
Elenna, who I had conspired with to plan the meeting, greeted us. I had asked her about my dreams, but she did not know anything about them. I was so worried about my meeting with Princess Arlene that I did not pay it much mind. She showed me to the changing room, where I once more donned my costume for the meeting. My hands shook as I fastened a button on the back of my gown. If I had gambled and chosen wrong, the results could be disastrous. Once I was garbed in the fortuneteller’s ensemble, I waited. I did not want to risk my guise as the ambassador’s wife so I wore my first disguise instead.
We were to meet backstage once the play was over. It gave me adequate cover and hopefully would drown out any listening ears that I did not want privy to our conversation. I paced the wing in which Elenna had set me to wait and wrung my hands, practicing over and over what I would say to the princess. The muted hum of the night’s crowd bled through the walls, and the sound echoed through me and put me on edge. Johai leaned against the far wall, with his arms folded over his chest, and he made no comment. On the opposite side of the stage, the players were aligning themselves, and props were put into place.
I stopped to watch for a moment. The curtains opened and illuminated a summer field. The crowd hushed as a lilting flute song drifted over the scene. Three of the women players bedecked in garlands danced about and threw petals in the air. They drifted downward and clung to their hair. Antoinette slept, hands pillowing her face.
The women shrieked and fled off stage in my direction. I was nearly bowled over, and I pressed my back flat against the wall.
Philippe entered from the opposite end of the stage. My breath caught. His face had been painted white, and his cheeks were smudged with gray, giving him a sunken appearance. He wore a long black cloak that he swirled around him as he walked.
My heart beat faster. He reminded me of the specter in the flesh. He crept up to the sleeping Antoinette and kneeled down beside her. His hands hovered over her, as if caressing her without touching her. It made my skin crawl.
“Oh, delicious innocence, ripe for the taking,” Philippe said to the crowd with a sneer.
The crowd held their commingled breath. Antoinette’s eyes flew open. She sat up and rammed her back against the tree.
“I fell asleep, and when I awoke, the face of death looked upon me. Please spare me!” She held her hands up to him, palms up.
He laughed, and the sound echoed through the amphitheater and chilled me.
“There is no hope for you, my beauty,” he said.
“Goddess above, help me!” she prayed, throwing her hands out as if in prayer.
Philippe laughed his high, cruel laughter. Then the tree Antoinette had been lying against split open. It swung open on hidden hinges, revealing Elenna. She wore a gown of white and a garland of flowers upon her sable hair.
She stepped out, and Philippe took a few steps back. He hissed and blocked his face with his forearm.
“Who dares to threaten one of my daughters?” Elenna asked. Her musical voice was hard-edged like the blade of a knife. Her voice echoed through the hall and seemed to pierce me through with its
power.
“This woman has fallen asleep during my festival. Your time has passed. Now it is my turn to rule. This heretic must be punished.” Philippe pointed a pale hand at Antoinette.
Elenna looked to the woman. “Is this true?”
“I was so tired, and I thought to close my eyes only for a moment,” Antoinette cried and clung to the hem of Elenna’s gown.
“See, she confesses.” Philippe cackled and jutted a finger towards Antoinette. “By our laws she is mine to do as I wish.”
“Please, you must do something!” Antoinette begged.
Elenna looked down at Antoinette and brushed her hand across her brow. “Take me in her place,” she said to Philippe.
He laughed. “You would give your life for hers?” He rubbed his hands together with a twisted smile.
“Gladly,” she said with a tilt of her head that made her look like a queen and a goddess in one.
“Then you are mine,” he cried. He grabbed Elenna by the hand and dragged her off stage.
The curtains closed, and behind them I watched as the players scurried to rearrange the props for the next scene. Beyond the curtain, the narrator continued with his monologue.
“The goddess of spring and new birth gave herself unto the god of darkness and death. He took her to his dwelling far beneath the earth into a cavern of stone. There he took her as his bride and bid she sing for him, for it pleased him.”
My rendezvous with Princess Arlene was soon, and when I turned to slip away, Elenna caught my hand. “Wait, just a moment more. She has been delayed, and I think you should see the next scene.” She smiled and squeezed my hands.
I was shocked and a bit intrigued. The curtains opened once again. Philippe sat on a stone throne of gray marble. Elenna stood before him, singing a sad song. The words were a language I did not know, but the emotions were real enough. Longing, despair and hope hidden beneath it all.
“You do splendidly, my queen,” Philippe said as he clapped his hands. “However, I would prefer if you sang me songs of springtime or danced as you once did.”
“How can I dance and sing in a place without light?” she asked.
“My new bride is dissatisfied with her life in the dark; then I shall illuminate it for her.”
An underworld servant wearing a mask with twisted horns and a black doublet and jerkin brought forth a basin of water, and they placed it on a pedestal before her.
“Here, my sweet one, I have gathered the sun and placed it here for you,” he said.
She looked into it, and light seemed to illuminate her face. The crowd oohed and awed. From my vantage point, I could see the series of mirrors and candles used to create the illusion, but I was also beginning to see what she wanted to show me. This was a story of a diviner.
“Look into the water, and you shall see life above the ground.”
Elenna smiled at the god of death, and it seemed as if the sunshine came with it.
A narrator stepped outside the curtain once more. “So the goddess attended her husband. Two months and twenty-seven days she remained until whispers came from the land above…”
Then the curtains opened again. Antoinette was walking about the garden. Now it was a desolate place devoid of life. The trees were barren, and the grass was brown and brittle.
“Oh, goddess of springtime, giver of life, will you return to us and bring with you the new birth this dying land craves?” Antoinette prayed to the goddess.
Elenna, across the stage, gazed into the basin as Antoinette called out to her, begging for assistance. Elenna rose, the black gown of the underworld billowing behind her, and she approached the basin. Antoinette behind her fell to her knees, begging and clutching her stomach.
“We are starving. The rivers have run dry. Nothing can grow in this withered land,” Antoinette said.
Philippe appeared behind Elenna. She whirled around. “Let me journey to the surface just once, and I will bring life back to the land, and then I will return to you. I foreswear it.”
He put his hand to his chin. “I shall give you three days; any longer than that and you will not be able to return here.”
She looked down into the water’s surface. “And what of our bargain?”
He did not answer but came over to her and brushed his hand across the water’s surface. “Just this once, I will let you look into the water and see what the future holds.”
Elenna regarded him for a moment before looking into the basin. What she saw was not revealed, but she jumped up and fled from the scene. “I will return to you before the third day, I swear it.”
The curtains closed, and once again, the narrator stepped out. “The goddess of springtime returned to her people, and with her, flowers bloomed beneath her footsteps, the crops grew, and the life-giving rains fell. On the first day, they feasted, and she ate of the food of the above world and began to forget. Tomorrow I will return, she said to herself. Then tomorrow came, and the people wished to dance for her, and she could not refuse them. Tomorrow I will return, she said to herself. The third day came, and her conviction to return seemed murky. She had a difficult time remembering what she was meant to do. The third day ended, and she had forgotten her promise to the god of death. And then he came for her…”
The curtain opened a final time.
“You have broken your promise to me,” Philippe said, pointing a finger at Elenna. She sat at the head of the table with her daughters, and they were toasting glasses of wine.
“Now out of the kingdom of darkness, she had lost all memory of her time therein,” the narrator explained.
“Who are you?” she exclaimed as she danced around.
“The lord of the darkness was grieved by this. He had come to love the goddess, and in the water he had revealed to her that she carried his child.”
He stood with arms spread out before him. “A curse I put upon you and all your descendants. Forever you shall foresee the future and will not be able to stop it. Forever you will look upon the past with only regret. My sons will strike your daughters, and your daughters will smite my sons, and forever it shall be forevermore.”
A knot grew in the pit of my stomach, and I could not stay to watch further. The story had struck too close to home. What does Elenna want me to learn from this? I hurried along the wing. The time of the meeting was upon us, and I dared not linger any longer. I heard Princess Arlene’s agitated voice from behind the curtains on the wooden stage where I hid.
“I have come as you requested,” she said as she walked along a corridor that led to the wing.
I stepped out of the shadows and hailed her. “Thank you for meeting me, Your Highness.”
She strode towards me quicker than I anticipated, and I took a step back. Johai stepped out from behind me, more imposing than normal. I realized he was using a bit of the glamour to intimidate her.
The princess halted and reached for a dagger that she wore in a small holster at her hip. “What is this? Some sort of trap? Believe me, if you are to harm me, there will be retribution from the palace.”
I took a step closer to her, and I tried to impart a bit of the mystery that the first diviner used whilst speaking with me. “I am sure if I were to kill you, I would be making quite a few people’s plans all the easier.”
She flinched, and I suspected I had hit home. “What do you know about Sarelle?” she asked instead.
“That she is the key to everything. That her death was no accident as public record would have it be.”
“That much you have made readily apparent. You said you would reveal the truth if I did not come. What do you want from me, and what do you know?” she snarled and took a few steps closer to me.
I held my ground, and when Johai attempted to move between us, I held up my hand to stay him. “I only know that the culprit is among the royal family, and I think you know who.”
“Are you saying I killed her?” Her voice raised an octave. “Sarelle was like a sister to me! I loved her in place of S
abine. I would never have harmed her!”
Her confession was unexpected. I had thought she would play her cards closer to the chest. The daughter of sunlight slain by love. Was she the one that killed her; have I come to the answer at last?
“Then what did happen?” I pressed.
She narrowed her eyes at me. “Don’t you already know, illusino?”
“No,” I answered. “What I do know is there is a great test that lies before you, and I want to see where you loyalties lie before I can make a decision.”
“If you know something about my future, then you must tell me. You cannot keep it from me if I ask; does your order not require such an oath?” she demanded.
I paused, my order? My ancestors had not practiced in nearly a century.
“She does not know her roots,” Elenna replied. The play had ended, and she joined us with a sheen of sweat upon her brow. She leaned against the doorframe, looking at the proceedings.
Princess Arlene watched her with a wary gaze. “And you do?”
She tilted her head to regard the princess. “I believe the illusino has requested answers from you, Your Highness.”
Princess Arlene rounded on me once more. “If I tell you the whole of it, will you tell me my future then?”
I nodded, and she sighed. She paced back and forth in front of us.
“I did not kill the princess with my own hand, but I may as well be complicit. She had made plans to kill Prince Reynard come their wedding night. I begged her not to and even bribed her with land. She swore to me that she would not see it through, and I thought we had heard the end of it. I suspect my uncle caught wind of her plot and planned a counterattack before she could strike. Before their wedding was to take place, Sarelle went riding as she was oft to do, and while she was riding, she was thrown from her horse.
“It happens…” She paused and glowered at me as if I would blame her for the ill-tempered animal. “At first it was considered an unfortunate accident, and then they found a dart on the horse’s hindquarter. Someone had enticed the beast to rear. She was murdered. The palace guards investigated, but it came to naught. My youngest sister, Sabine, was engaged to the then prince, and the matter was laid to rest.” She turned and looked at me. “Now tell me; what do you see in my future?”
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