by Lea Doué
She nodded and ducked her head, tears stinging her eyes as she packed her things. She needed Eben’s help to break her curse, but how could she say words to him that she had trouble admitting to herself? She had no guarantee that he would return them, even if he felt the same. His duty came first.
The sun hadn’t sunk low enough to signal her return to the palace, but she didn’t care. She was taking both of the boys with her; she wanted to see their reactions to whatever the twins had painted. It was time to trust her friends.
If nothing else, Eben was her friend.
Orin rounded up the geese and joined them without comment. Lily and Eben helped herd the birds into their shed at The Tree.
“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Orin asked.
Lily shook her head and tugged on his arm, indicating for him to come with her.
“You want me to come to the palace?” He looked from her to Eben, who shrugged.
She smiled.
“Should I change?”
She shook her head.
He offered his arm properly, and she took it.
Eben followed, wearing the unreadable expression of a royal guard.
*
The tower guards let them into the sitting room. Eben stopped at the threshold. He’d been in briefly over the years to deliver things, or people, like Wren the previous night, but none of the girls had ever invited him inside. Orin watched, a mixture of amusement and curiosity on his face.
Lily motioned for Eben to come in, but he didn’t move. She raised her eyebrows and gave him a pointed look.
He got it, but was slower to step through the door than she liked, so she let go of Orin’s arm and yanked him into the room. The nearest guard snorted, and she closed the door in his face.
Orin stood where she’d left him. He inspected the girly space and the princesses unabashedly, but his gaze returned each time like a magnet to Melantha, sitting on the floor in a nest of maps. Hazel and Junia sewed, and the twins painted by the window. Azure and Ivy played with a basket of kittens.
Hazel cleared her throat and nudged Melantha with her foot. They all knew who Orin was, but they hadn’t been properly introduced. Lily couldn’t do it.
Melantha stood, scattering maps. “Prince Orin of Gritton, may I introduce my sisters—Hazel, Junia, Ivy, Ruby, and Wren.” She waved to each girl in turn. “You know Azure.”
Azure saluted with a kitten, which Ivy quickly rescued.
Orin chuckled. “Pleased to meet you, and please call me Orin.”
Hazel’s eyebrows turned down just enough to let them know she wasn’t pleased with the casualness of the introduction.
Eben rubbed the back of his neck and then ran his thumb along the scar on his jaw. His gaze darted around the room but found nowhere to settle. Maybe she’d made a mistake by dragging him in. He’d said he would do whatever he could to help; but was it because he wanted to, or because he was a royal guard and thus duty-bound to help? She gave herself a mental shake. She couldn’t keep doubting the motives of her friends.
She motioned Hazel over and showed her the sketchbook.
Melantha approached Orin. “How’s Tr—did you have sweets before you came? Why didn’t you save us any?” She brushed crumbs off his tunic.
They’d shared sweet rolls on the way through the city. His face turned red, but he answered casually. “True is pining for you to visit, and I had no idea where your sister was leading me, or I would have brought you a basket of sweets.”
Melantha subsided, pacified.
“And another one for your sisters.”
“Hey!” She punched his arm.
Hazel studied the sketch of the maze and the mirror. “It’s . . .”
Lily took the book, and gave it to Eben. He glanced at the drawing and then at the two girls.
Hazel gasped. “He can see it. Nothing happened.”
Lily took the book back and pointed at the twins behind their easels.
“You want to show him?”
She let out a breath she’d been holding, relieved that Hazel understood.
Ruby and Wren laid their brushes down and moved away from the windows, eyes round with fear and excitement. Blacks and blues and greens spattered their smocks, evidence of the rush to capture their memories.
Lily motioned for the boys to join her. Hazel and Melantha followed and peered around their shoulders.
Ruby had painted dancers. A handful of shadow-people and a few white-haired courtiers smudged their way across the floor, while all twelve sisters almost leapt off the canvas. She’d paid special attention to the gowns, the gems and feathers, ribbons and textures. Coral’s red hair blazed, Hazel’s shined like gold in the candlelight, and Melantha’s copper locks twirled in a dance of their own.
She’d painted a close-up of Lily and Tharius, but his eyes should have been dark brown, almost black. Ruby had made them yellow. Or maybe they reflected the candlelight—yellow paint tipped each of her thumbs.
A tiny figure with brown skin stood under a tree in the corner—Neylan must have told the girls about Bay. Surely Eben recognized her.
Wren’s painting consisted of a series of small scenes scattered haphazardly over the canvas. Dark flowers and thorns wrapped around and between the images. She’d done the maze where it turned into a tunnel, leaves blending into stone walls, a close-up of a caged candle, a panorama of the clearing with the giant oaks, and the gazebo. At the bottom edge, two hands placed a teardrop pendant around a slender neck. Wren hardly ever painted hands.
Lily shuddered at the unwelcome reminders intruding into the safety of their tower.
Orin’s gaze roamed back and forth between the two canvases, not focusing too long on anything. He glanced at the girls, too, taking in their reactions.
Eben studied both girls’ works, and then his eyes settled on the image of Tharius and Lily. After a significant pause, he visibly shook himself and studied her face. No comments. No questions.
“Well?” Ruby asked, finally.
“They’re very nice paintings,” Orin said. “You’re obviously talented. Both of you. My own sister has no interest in such things.”
The twins sighed in unison.
“What?” Orin said, alarmed. “I’m sorry. Did I say something wrong?”
“No, of course not,” Hazel assured him.
“Are they trying to tell us something?” He studied the paintings again. “Like with Lily’s sketches, and the page from the records book. I’m just not sure what. Or why.”
“Look again!” Azure dumped a kitten in Ivy’s lap and ran over. “Keep looking! Study them. We ca—” She made an odd gurgling sound and fainted.
Orin caught her before she hit the floor and carried her to the couch.
The rest of the girls entered the room, followed by maids carrying supper trays, and the paintings were forgotten for the moment. Ivy cradled a kitten to her cheek to hide her tears.
“I should go.” Orin cupped Lily’s elbow lightly. The skin barely stung anymore. “I’ll do what I can to help, but I’m not sure what’s going on. Send word to the The Tree if you need me.”
Lily touched his shoulder in gratitude. No one noticed him leave in all the disarray. Well, mostly no one. Melantha saluted him casually, and he returned the gesture before shutting the door.
Eben bent down until his breath tickled her ear. “I’m off duty soon. I’ll try to find out what I can about the northern princess.”
He straightened, and she clutched his arm, willing him to figure something out. Anything.
He squeezed her hand. “I know something’s not right, but I’m not sure how everything’s fitting together.” He paused. The maids left, and the room started to settle. “Is there anything you can tell me?”
She didn’t want to shake her head again.
“Never mind.” He hesitated, and she recognized the look on his face as he struggled to find words to say something awkward. “This isn’t about, I mean, you’re not . . .” He took deep breath
and rushed on. “Runson’s not blackmailing you, is he?”
What?
“No, okay.” He recognized her look, too. “Okay. I’ll do what I can.” He patted her hand where it still rested on his arm and then walked out, deep in thought.
So close. They were so close to figuring something out. At least Eben suspected something. She hoped his next guess would hit closer to the mark.
Chapter Fourteen
Lily had three days to break her curse.
Failure all but ensured her betrothal to Runson, and she and her sisters would still be trapped.
Gwen suggested they leave early for the undergarden. The littles needed rest, and the older girls had The Masked Ball to attend tomorrow night. No one argued.
“I don’t get it,” Wren said, picking at her sandwich. “Why don’t we just let Mother announce the betrothal now and let him break the . . . you know. We don’t need to keep doing this when there’s a prince waiting for her.”
Wren thought she had a prince? Which one—Orin or Holic? Certainly not Prince Gower.
“That’s not how it works,” Mara said.
“How do you know?”
“There’s a reason Lily hasn’t spoken to the princes, yet. It’s not as easy as ‘I love you,’ and ‘I love you back.’”
“Why not?”
“They have to actually love her back, sweetie,” Mara said.
“Oh.” Wren thought about that for a moment. Her face scrunched up. “Oh, well that’s not fair!How are we gonna get out of this? There has to be someone else. Lily, there’s someone else, right?”
There was someone else, someone who might actually love her back. Maybe. Only she couldn’t be sure he would say so.
“Right?” Wren gripped the arms of her chair. Crescents of color lingered under her nails. She was usually meticulous about that.
Gwen took Wren’s hands and spoke in a soothing tone. “It’s her choice whether to speak or not. She’s strong. We have to let her take as much time as she needs.”
Lily dabbed her eyes with a napkin. She didn’t feel strong. She felt helpless and stupid for getting them into this because she didn’t want to face her responsibilities, including Runson. It wasn’t Father’s job to make him go away.
Sooner than she liked, Lily slid her tattered slippers onto her feet, grateful for Junia’s creams. She watched the guards from the spy hole as the girls arranged themselves behind her.
Something was wrong. With a jolt, she realized Eben had stationed a third guard on their door. She waited for them to turn their backs as before, but one guard or another always faced her.
“What’s wrong?” Melantha asked.
Lily held up three fingers, one at a time.
“How are we going to get past three guards?” Coral said.
After about ten minutes, Lily saw the pattern in the guard’s patrol, and not once did they leave the door unobserved for more than a few seconds. What would happen if she didn’t make it to the undergarden tonight? The girls fidgeted. They couldn’t climb out the narrow windows. The roof was an option, but twelve princesses scaling the side of a tower would be quite a spectacle if they lost contact with each other. The darkness could only hide them for so long.
No, it was the door, or nothing.
They weren’t forbidden to leave their tower at night, but it would draw too much attention.
“We’ve got to do something,” Melantha whispered forcefully, as if in answer to someone.
Lily had missed part of the conversation. Or argument.
“Splitting up isn’t the answer,” Gwen said. She spoke softly, even though the door was thick.
“Put the basket of kittens into the hallway,” Azure said.
Ivy gasped.
Azure nudged Lily out of the way and stood on her toes to peer out the spy hole.
“I’ll put a note on the basket to return the kittens to the stables. Sign my name.” Azure moved back. “Kev knows me. He won’t be surprised. And chasing the kittens will get them from the door. Hopefully.”
No one else came up with a better plan, so Azure wrote her note. All but two of the kittens slept in their basket. Melantha scooped up the strays and plopped them on top of the others.
“Be careful!” Neylan said.
“We want them awake and running around, don’t we?” Melantha said.
Lily shooed everyone back into place. Speed was key, or the guards would get suspicious. They didn’t need someone knocking on the door and finding the tower empty. This had better work.
Azure crouched by the door with the mewing kittens.
Lily peeked out the spy hole, her heart pounding. She had to time this just right. The minutes passed slowly. So slowly. As soon as all of the guards faced away from the door, she opened it. Azure pushed the basket out and retreated quickly to her place in line. One of the kittens tipped over the edge and rolled back into the room. Lily scooped it up before the door squashed it.
She couldn’t see the basket from the spy hole. The nearest guard read the note. He called the other two over, and they all laughed good-naturedly before he went down the hall to call for a maid.
It wasn’t working—the kittens were too sleepy. They must have settled back into the basket.Her kitten struggled and scratched her arms with its tiny claws.
Sorry, little guy. She waited until the guards turned their backs again, inched the door open, and gently tossed the unhappy kitten into the basket of sleeping fuzzballs. They didn’t like that. Good.
The nearest guard spun towards the scrabbling kittens and didn’t notice the slightly-open door, or that one more kitten darted about. Their big hands scooped them up too quickly, though. Except for Lily’s kitten. He’d made a run for it, no happier with the guards than he’d been with her.
The guards hesitated, allowing the kitten to put more distance between them.
Run, kitten, run!
A guard lunged after it, allowing the others a chance to escape. Here was the chaos Lily needed. She grabbed Melantha and yanked the girls out the door. Thankfully, they were used to their invisibility enough that they didn’t trip over each other.
“Oh!”
A kitten righted itself near the wall. One of the girls at the end must have bumped into it. Lily would make it up to the poor things tomorrow. Saucers of milk for all of them.
She slowed at the top of the stairs, and her breathing returned to normal as they descended. Even keeping to the less-frequented areas, the candlelit halls presented obstacles. At the last corner, just before the doors to the garden, she stopped short. Runson was in the way. She pressed her back into the wall and gripped the corner until the stone bit into her palm. He was in her way a lot, lately.
He paced slowly back and forth in front of the glass doors. The gardens beyond lay in darkness—the gardeners never bothered to light many lamps in this section—but if anyone were out there, they would see him clearly. He glanced around, as if to be sure he wasn’t being watched, and then pressed his nose to the glass. What was he looking for? Or who?
She could lead the girls to another door, but they risked running into more people. Literally. She would wait him out. They’d left early enough.
Melantha stepped close, her cheek brushing Lily’s as she peeked around the corner. “Get out of here, you little weasel,” she muttered.
Runson turned, looking right at the spot where Lily stood. She stared right back at him and had an odd impulse to stick out her tongue. He turned away after a moment, and she elbowed Melantha back.
As it had in their room, time passed too slowly. Two minutes ticked by, maybe three. Runson stopped pacing and crouched on the floor facing them, his hands held out in front of him.
“Here, kitty. Come here, little one.”
Lily’s head whipped around. Her kitten had followed them.
A guard would be close behind.
Oblivious to their danger, Runson baby-talked the kitten over to him. He scooped it up and stood. “What are you doin
g here, little wanderer?” The kitten melted in his hands as he scratched its chin and ears. “You’re coming home with me.” He nuzzled the kitten with his nose.
It was too adorable. She pushed aside thoughts of Runson’s soft side, knowing from experience that he buried it deep.
Footsteps sounded in the hall behind them. The guard would be here any second.
Runson cradled the kitten to his chest. After glancing around once more and peering through the glass, he straightened and exited into the gardens.
Lily had no time to sort through her confusion about Runson’s behavior. She looked outside. No sign of him, and she didn’t know which direction he’d gone. She led the girls into the gardens, listening carefully. Nothing. Just normal cricket noises, and laughter from a distant balcony.
Step after step, feet stinging in protest at cracks in the stones, unseen twigs, and stray pebbles, she led the girls to the maze. She didn’t dare let go of Melantha until they entered the secret passageway. Runson had entered the maze before, and she wasn’t ruling out his presence now.
No one asked for the candle, not even Junia.
The silver light guided them in the tunnel as it had the first time, and the darkness shivered and closed in around them. Lily didn’t bother counting. When they reached the forest, she gulped the damp cavern air to clear her head.
Around the corner and beyond the mist, Tharius waited. He looked almost boyish in a black shirt embroidered with silver-green thread around the cuffs, his hair tousled as if he’d run to meet her. She joined him right away, not wishing to irritate him tonight. He smiled, satisfied, and whisked her along the path.
As before, he led her onto the dance floor without delay, eyes shining like the forest of glass. “I missed you.”
His voice resonated against her ribcage, and she stifled a gasp. Her gown had no corset. Red satin bled into black from her neck to her hips, where layers of ruffles cascaded to the floor. The sleeves ended in points over the backs of her hands, and thousands of diamond chips dusted the entire thing like crushed glass. She was completely covered, but she’d never felt so bare.
