by J. C. Nelson
“She is dead, Marissa.” Not anger. Sadness. “Please, my dear, never wear her clothing. If you have any respect for me, you will never do that. When I saw you, for a moment, my dear, I imagined my daughter.”
I glanced down at my hand. “You could have told me it was her ring.”
“Would you have dared use it if I had?” Grimm dropped his shoulders and let out a breath.
“Never.” I had so many things to be angry at Grimm for. All the things he’d never told me, all the secrets he could have shared, but it wasn’t in his nature to speak openly. Secrets were his native tongue. “I didn’t mean any disrespect. To you. The High Queen sent Ari and I to our rooms.” As I spoke, the milky fade at the edges moved in and out, like an oil stain, but it never covered Grimm’s face.
“My dear, I believe you. I just wasn’t ready to see anyone wearing that outfit. It’s what she wore when she went out on assignments with her mother. They were my most trusted agents.” I let it go. If Grimm married someone, I figured that trusting them more than me was probably okay. “Arianna would like to speak with you.”
A knock at the door nearly gave me a heart attack for the second time in a row. The doorman entered. “Handmaiden, the court is assembled. It is time.”
“I have to change.” I started to unhook the top.
“Marissa, go. You can dispose of the clothing later. My feelings on the matter shouldn’t impact your focus.” Grimm faded out, letting the soap cover him.
“Now come,” said the doorman.
“Can you carry that box?” I pointed.
“It would be my pleasure. Shall I have it placed in the bag check?” At my nod, he placed his hand on the box, and it shimmered out of view.
As we walked down the abandoned hall, I stopped, wondering about something Grimm said. “Do I look like her? Like the Black Queen?”
The doorman looked at me, squinting. “You both have brown hair and brown eyes, but your queen is more beautiful than words can describe. I will have a painting of her sent to you so you may recognize her face when she comes.”
Queens, princesses, and handmaidens lined the plush seats of the amphitheater when we emerged from the hall. The doorman led me down to the front, where the Dian-Xi waited. On one side of her, Queen Mihail stood, dressed in a gray business suit, her makeup flawless. The doorman stepped between us. “Accusers must stand on the left.” I walked to the other side, where Ari waited.
Ari wore a simple white dress with long sleeves, and with makeup that hid her freckles and made her lips rich red. I suppressed a giggle at the black sunglasses she wore over her eyes.
“Marissa? What happened to your clothes? You look like a hunter, or barbarian, or something. I love the hair though.” Ari stepped to one side, making room for me.
“Let’s say my room hasn’t had a fashion update for four hundred years—” A whistle from the Dian-Xi silenced the amphitheater.
“Sisters, I gather you to hear charges. Queen Mihail stands accused of assassination attempts on royalty of another family.” The Dian-Xi waited until the murmurs died down.
Queen Mihail spoke first. “Who brings these baseless charges?”
“I do.” Ari stepped forward, taking off her glasses.
“Nonsense.” Queen Mihail gave a presumptuous laugh. “Girl, it is bad form for royalty to act on their own behalf. Not that you seem to know anything about good form.”
I stepped forward, wishing I’d brought a stun gun. “That’s why I’m here. I charge you with an attempt on Ari’s life. You tried to kill her with an apple. You sent the Gray Man to kill her.” I kept my voice calm and my gaze fixed on the Dian-Xi as I spoke.
“Doorman, does she speak the truth?” The Dian-Xi turned toward the doorman, and he walked over and took my hand. His ice-cold fingers brushed my palm, sending a shock through me.
“She does.” The doorman stepped away.
“Queen Mihail, what have you to say?” The Dian-Xi’s tone was neither accusatory nor supportive. Just simple, direct, factual.
“The apple was intended for Marissa Locks, who is no form of royalty. I’m not even convinced she’s considered human. Nor does she have standing to act as handmaiden. Her friend there is no queen, and her mother appointed no handmaidens for her.” Mihail kept her gaze on the High Queen, but the edges of her mouth turned up in a smile.
“Marissa, young lady, what have you to say?” The Dian-Xi looked back to me.
I made up my mind. Made a decision. This had to end, and it had to end right there. I held up my hand. “I bear the Black Queen’s ring.”
“Young lady, do you understand the penalty for using a queen’s signet without permission?” The doorman stepped forward, his eyes locked on mine. “It is death.”
“I too challenge her standing. The Black Queen is dead.” Ari’s stepmother stood up in the gallery, her hand raised.
“Then how did I get this?” I turned my hand over and pulled the sleeve back, showing the handmaiden’s mark. “I have her ring, and her mark. I am the handmaiden, and I dare you to prove otherwise.”
The gasps in the crowd grew louder, causing the Dian-Xi to whistle. “Doorman, is it truly the mark? If it is not, remove it, and the hand.”
He stepped up beside me and seized my hand. “I am sorry.” With that, a power like a heat lamp and hot tub combined blasted over my hand. When it withdrew, my bare skin lay clean and tan, without a trace of the handmaiden’s mark.
I cursed myself for believing Grimm, that he couldn’t remove it, and opened my mouth to give voice to the foul thoughts within.
And my skin split open in a long line, tearing as if sliced by something jagged and raw. I think I screamed, as line by line, my skin tore open, until every last line of the mark emerged. I can’t really say what I did. I remember Ari tackling the doorman, and I remember feeling like he’d wrenched my arm off at the elbow.
Chaos ruled the court, until I rolled over and found my hand still attached. Ari had the doorman in a hammerlock, doing her best to suffocate him.
“Stop. Stop.” I choked out the words, mindless of the tears that dripped down my face. Ari let him go and backed away.
“See?” The doorman rubbed his throat, then pointed. The black lines dripped with blood. “It is real.”
Now people actually fled, running for the halls.
“Peace!” The Dian-Xi’s order swept like a spell over the amphitheater, locking people in place.
Gwendolyn approached the High Queen. “I maintain my challenge. Mark or no, the Black Queen is dead.”
The High Queen looked down at the doorman. “Show me Isolde Faron.”
“As you command, Your Highness.” He dipped his head, concentrating. The audience gasped, staring past me.
“M, you need to look.” Ari put her hand on my shoulder and turned me. The wall behind shone with silver light as it transformed into a mirror. I recognized the grass and sky of Fairy Godmother’s realm. Where the thorn tree once stood, a blasted, torn stump remained, shattered into fragments like toothpicks.
Thirty-Four
“I CANNOT FIND her, alive or dead.” The doorman hung his head, ashamed, and the view of the field faded, leaving the wall normal.
“Then let it be left to her queen,” said Gwendolyn. “Let the matter be between them.” Across the amphitheater, faces nodded, voices murmured in agreement.
The High Queen crossed her arms. “So be it. You may remove that ring when your queen takes it from you, handmaiden.”
I clutched at my hand, but no matter how I moved my fingers, it stayed in place, turning loosely, but refusing to slide off. That was going to make removing the engagement ring even harder. Almost as hard as explaining why I was already wearing it.
“Your charges are accepted before the court. For the matter of the apple, an assault on even a commoner is not to be taken lightly. I fine you sixteen ounces of Glitter, Queen Mihail. Consider your actions carefully before acting again.” The Dian-Xi nodded to herself, obvi
ously pleased with her punishment.
“I’ll have a gift bag sent over.” Queen Mihail didn’t bother hiding her joy.
“What about the Rip Van Winkle? You sent him for Ari.” I tried to shove down the disappointment. The feeling of hopelessness. What had any of this accomplished? At the name of the Gray Man, queens began to giggle, like I’d asked for an honest politician.
Mihail chuckled. “Well, Kingdom be blessed, he obviously didn’t find her.”
“He found me.” I began to count the number of steps separating us. I could have my hands on her throat in three seconds. Maybe less.
“I’m so sorry. I’ll send over another pound to make amends.”
In the seats, chuckles of laughter began to echo out. The shrewd queen, once again flaunting her riches and power.
“I want my reward for killing him.” I glanced to the doorman.
If I thought I had the court’s attention before, I didn’t know stares or rapt faces.
The High Queen stepped down, walking over to look at me. “The Gray Man is a child’s tale. You should depart before you anger your betters.”
“He is not.” The doorman stepped forward. “Though you are safe within my confines, I have records of all his victims. A blood bounty promise was granted for his head. I concur. The princess killer is dead, by her hand. The bounty is due.” He looked to Queen Mihail. “The family Mihail consumed family Lach Connor, taking their power and assuming their debts. It falls to you.”
“Fine. Three pounds. Consider this the luckiest day of your miserable life.” Mihail shrugged and started to walk away.
The doorman flickered. One moment he was before me, the next he was blocking her exit. “The bounty was one pound, twelve hundred years ago. With interest . . .” He leaned over and whispered the rest to her.
It brought peace to my aching arm, the way she gasped, the curses that erupted from her. “Never. No one has that, not even the High Queen. You could unseal the realms and not have that much magic. I refuse.” She attempted to yank her arm free and squealed in pain.
He held on to her like a boat anchor. “It is a blood promise, Your Highness. Backed by your throne. Pay the debt, or I will take it from you in forfeit.” I wasn’t the only person who felt the mood shift, as people once again fled. This time, the High Queen didn’t call them back.
“Irina.” The High Queen dared call Mihail by her given name. “Calm down. Marissa, the blood promise cannot be kept. Will you compromise?”
“I’m glad you asked. See, I want something. Mihail made a deal with Malodin. He didn’t deliver on that contract, and shouldn’t have been allowed to enter a contract with me.” I caught Queen Mihail’s eye, like looking into the eyes of a rabid panther. “You hold him in contempt of his contract, you can keep all the Glitter. Everyone lives.” It was about time we got to something reasonable.
I said reasonable. When she looked back at me, I caught a glimpse into her soul, and while I wasn’t always the best judge of character, I felt fairly certain reason hadn’t slept in her bed for decades. The look of rage on her face defied words as she twisted in the doorman’s grasp. “I am nothing without my word.”
“Irina, choose carefully.” The Dian-Xi put a hand on her shoulder.
I saw the slap coming, only because I’d gotten the backhand from Ari’s mother the same way once before. Queen Mihail sent the High Queen rolling with a backhand. “Never. Let the world burn around you. Let everything die. I promised you rewards beyond anything a fairy could deliver, in return for my son. I would sooner die than grant your request.”
She bit her own arm, drawing blood, then spat it. “Demon. I release you from your contract. Keep your payment.”
The lights in the court dimmed, like something massive had switched on. The doorman radiated menace, almost darkness, as he bent Queen Mihail’s arm until it cracked, forcing her to her knees. “Your throne is forfeit, debt breaker. You have no heir, nor will you. Let any who you have wronged seek you out and find justice as they wish.”
Mihail gasped, choking, as the darkness seemed to swirl in about her.
That I didn’t mind. When I realized that Ari was hiding behind me, I started to get worried. Grimm always assured me that being a prince or princess was ingrained in your soul. A process that could never be reversed. Then again, how much of Mihail’s soul remained, I couldn’t say.
When the doorman threw her backwards, he almost sent her over the first row of chairs. Instead, she caught on the top of one, and flipped over, collapsing to the floor. Not everyone had made it out of the amphitheater, and of those that remained, more than a few sobbed quietly.
“Begone, Irina Mihail. You have no place here.” The doorman turned his back.
She rose slowly, one arm hanging at an odd angle, blood smeared down her face. “Wrath. I have promised you wrath, Marissa. Let all the wrath of Inferno fall on you. And you, princess. I will see you dead.”
I lunged for her, fueled by blind anger, a rage that welled up from the tips of my toes and colored the world red, but the doorman flickered and appeared before me. I’d run head-on into trucks less solid. With one hand, he gripped my face so tight, my teeth ground.
“Let her go. I will not permit murder in the presence of the High Queen.” Only after Mihail limped away did he relax. “Your Highness, the matter is settled. She has forfeited her title.”
She sighed. “Hers was a proud line, and a long one, but not the first to come to an end.” The High Queen’s gaze turned to me. “Let another begin today.”
Ari rushed the doorman, swinging her bag at him like a club, pushing him back. “Oh, no you don’t. You leave Marissa alone. She’s got enough crazy in her life as it is.”
Though I’d struggled uselessly against his grip, the doorman dropped me, turning to face Ari. “Young one, this is not up to you. The blood debt has been forfeited to Marissa. I will have the papers drawn up immediately.”
I rose to my feet, rubbing my cheek where he’d grabbed me, when Ari grabbed me by the roots of my hair and pulled.
“We’re leaving now. I insist.” As she spoke she pulled, and because I remained somewhat attached to my hair, I followed.
“This is not settled.” The High Queen sat on the edge of the speaker’s mound, rubbing gnarled hands on her knees.
Putting my hands on Ari’s wrist, I stopped her long enough to look back. “Damn right it isn’t. What am I supposed to do with a throne? I don’t have room in my apartment. I’ve barely got room for a couple of cat beds. And the only thing crowns are good for is getting me mugged.”
Ari’s voice rose to near hysteria. “M, I said we are getting out of here. I meant it. Now.” To emphasize, she gave a yank that sent spirals of pain down my neck. “Don’t make me spell you.”
We limped, almost ran up the aisle, her hand still gripping the short hairs at the back of my neck. At the top of the stairs, she swung me right, then stopped at a white door with brass handles. “Here.”
She swung it open, revealing a broom closet, then shoved me inside. A moment later, the door closed behind me as Ari stepped in.
“There’s a knob in front of you. Open it.”
I felt about, then clicked the door and stumbled out into Ari’s bedroom. I flopped on the memory foam mattress I’d bought Ari for her birthday and groaned.
“Grimm. I need you now.” Ari stood in her bathroom, her face set in a look of determination like I’d never seen.
“Arianna?” Grimm’s voice echoed in the tile. I closed my eyes and listened as Ari relayed the events of the day, becoming more and more frantic.
Finally, she described Mihail’s insanity. “They want to give Mihail’s title to Marissa. I won’t let them. You can’t let them do that to her. You have to intervene.”
“Ari, come here.” I waved to her. “This isn’t the worst thing I’ve been through. So I got a throne today. You want it?”
“Marissa Lambert Locks, sit up and listen to me.” Ari spoke with an author
ity I’d never heard before. I opened my eyes and sat up, feeling the world swirl as the beginnings of a migraine took root.
“I know what you two say about me. Someone walk Ari to college, make sure she’s safe. Someone go with Ari, make sure the princes don’t creep on her. Someone go bail out Ari; she ran over the postman again.” Tears streamed from her eyes as she clenched her fists.
“I won’t let them pull you into that world. I won’t. You think it’s all salons and pink and pretty. I’ve seen what happens when they elect High Queen. I have friends who were around when the last High Queen was chosen. I visit some of them in therapy. Others, if I want to see them, I have to go to the cemetery. I won’t let that happen to you.” She put her hands on her hips.
I shook my head and started to rise, but she put a hand on my shoulder. “M, you owe me this. If it’s about the money, I’ll give you what I earn. If you want pink, I’ll buy you a closet full of clothes. Don’t get involved with the court.”
Grimm appeared in Ari’s makeup mirror. “Arianna, calm yourself. Marissa can no more be made a princess than you can be unmade. I don’t recall any similar situations, but we’ll find a nice young girl who’s offended Marissa and make her an offer she can’t refuse. I can use a puppet in the Queen’s Court.”
I flopped back on the bed. “I’m more interested in my three pounds of Glitter. When exactly do I get that? Do I have access to Mihail’s bank accounts?”
Grimm laughed. “Hardly. The only thing you actually won was a title that would pass to your children. They would be princes, or princesses, and live with the benefits and drawbacks.”
His words chilled me to the core. There wouldn’t be any little princes or princesses in my future, assuming there was a future at all.
“I’m sorry, my dear.” Grimm’s tone sounded of pity, which offended me. “I meant no offense.”
“Can I borrow a dress? I need to change into something made in the last century.” Ari’s stuff would be short on me, but wearable.
“Place the clothes in a pile, Marissa. Call me when you are done.” Grimm faded away, not even pretending he’d peek in on me.
