Ever stood perfectly still for a long moment. Finally, he told the soldier in words nearly too quiet for Isa to hear, “We’ll set out tomorrow before first light.”
Isa wanted to groan.
“How many days should we prepare for, Sire?”
“It’s a three-day ride to the town.” He paused. “We will travel without speed this time. I will need to save my strength for the meeting, should it go badly.” He glanced up at Isa, then told the man that he would be down to discuss logistics with him soon enough, but for him to relay the plans to Acelet in the meantime. Isa took that as her signal.
“Please.” She approached her husband and took hold of his arm, keeping her voice low so the passing servants wouldn’t hear. “Let me talk to the children.”
“I think not.”
“Ever,” Isa said, “you are angry right now. I know how much Gigi means to you. But how much good will it do for you to frighten Henri more? That is how this mess began in the first place.”
Ever glared at her for a long time, but to her relief, Isa could feel him beginning to soften. She hated using her gift on him but sometimes it was necessary when he refused to see sense. Thankfully, however, she did not have to use it this time, for he finally let his head droop to his chest as he let out a gusty breath.
“Take Garin. I don’t want you alone with them until I know what the boy is capable of.”
“Actually,” Isa leaned in, “I was hoping you would both accompany me. I believe this is something you need to be a part of.”
Ever hesitated, casting one last look of longing in the direction of the soldier he had just sent away, then nodded reluctantly. Isa sent him the most confident, peaceful smile she could muster, praying all the while for her plan to have success. For if it didn’t, this could end very, very badly.
By the time Isa and Ever arrived at the children’s door, Garin had unlocked it and was standing by the hearth with his arms folded. Genny seemed oblivious to the fact that her brother was curled into a little heap on his bed, or that there was a problem at all as she pulled at Garin’s trousers and begged for him to tell her a story. The little girl’s blue eyes lit up as she spotted Isa, but as soon as she spotted Ever, she wilted like a flower in the dead heat of summer. Ever must have noticed, too, for Isa felt a flash of guilt move through him as she wrapped the little girl up in her arms. Good. He hadn’t needed to scare Genny, too.
“Are you ready for bed?” Isa asked the little girl as she plopped her upon her bed and began to braid the child’s hair. Genny gave her a big grin.
“We still need a story.” Then she turned her little face to where Ever stood, and drew her lips up into a pinched frown. “Except from him. I don’t want a story from him.”
“Well, I have a special story tonight for both of you.” Isa tucked Genny in, then went over to Henri and began to unfold him from his little ball. “In fact, it is one of my very favorites because it’s a true story.” As soon as the children were both beneath their covers, she sat down beside Henri.
“Long ago, there was a boy, a prince who had special powers from the Fortress.”
“This Fortress?” Genny sat up, her eyes wide.
Isa laughed. “Yes, this Fortress. You see, the prince was very strong. Even as a boy he could best grown men with the sword, and with only his hands he could create a power so strong that it was like the lightning in the sky.” As she spoke, Isa watched Henri. He still looked terrified, but the more she spoke, the less he hid his face beneath the blankets.
“When he was thirteen, the prince was in a royal procession with his parents. Many people came to see the prince, for news had traveled far and wide of the young prince’s power and,” she added, “his kind heart. And his heart was indeed kind. For when a girl fell into the street, he climbed off his horse and help her stand.”
“That was nice,” Genny nodded matter-of-factly.
“Yes, it was nice,” Isa said with a sad smile, flicking her gaze over to where Garin and Ever stood by the door. Garin’s arms were still folded in front of him, but his eyes were closed now. Ever’s face was slightly twisted in a way that made Isa’s heart ache. But, she reminded herself, bones needed to be broken before they could be reset. Ever needed to hear this before he allowed his anger to carry him away.
“Unfortunately,” she turned back to the children, “the prince also had a temper that often got him into trouble. And on that day, it did just that. You see, the girl didn’t know she wasn’t supposed to touch the prince, so when she ran up and grabbed his sleeve, hoping to thank him for his kindness, he lost his temper and accidentally hurt her with his power.”
“Was it fire power?”
“Yes.” Isa nodded, thankful Henri was finally talking again.
“What happened?” The boy studied his hands thoroughly as he spoke, still either unwilling or unable to look her in the eyes.
“He had to realize that the Maker still loved him, as did the Fortress, and all of his friends who lived there with him. But, that didn’t mean there were no consequences. You see, his power hurt the girl badly, and it changed her life. She couldn’t walk well, nor could she use her left hand the way she once had. It took her many years to heal.” Without looking at him, Isa could feel the shame burn through Ever as it always did when her injury was brought up. Directing her next words to him, Isa lifted her gaze, wishing he would meet it.
“But the Fortress would not allow the prince to go on in sadness and loneliness.”
“What happened?” Genny asked, somehow more out of the blankets than under them by this point.
Isa smiled and tucked her back in. “The Fortress and the Maker brought the prince and the girl together so that neither of them could go on until she forgave him and he learned how to say he was sorry. In that forgiveness, they fell in love.” Isa smiled to herself as the joy of that forgiveness filled her even now.
“Did they get married?” Genny asked.
“They did.” Isa grinned as she leaned over to kiss Genny, then Henri. “They were soon married, and are now living happily.” She stood to leave, but Henri’s words brought her to a halt.
“I didn’t mean to do it.” Henri’s voice was quiet. The way it cracked broke Isa’s heart. “I never even asked for the fire. I just have it.”
“None of us did.” Isa sat back down and took Henri’s hands. “But the Fortress has a purpose for everyone it gives strength to.” She lifted his chin. “Including you. The hard part is waiting to see what our purposes are. Patience is a lesson we must learn.” She looked up at Ever. “All of us.”
Henri sighed and nodded before laying back down. “Fine. I’ll think about it. But I’m not marrying Gigi!”
Isa laughed, and even Garin smiled, but Ever’s face remained grim.
After Isa had snuffed out the candles and made sure the fire in the hearth had enough wood, for it was still chilly in the evenings despite the coming of spring, she, Ever, and Garin filed out quietly.
Before going his own way, Garin turned to Isa in the hall and gave her a wry smile. “Five hundred years I’ve spent in this place and yet you still manage to surprise me. If I ever need more humility, I shall be sure to come to you in the future.”
“Does that mean they’ve won you over yet?” Isa asked.
“Perhaps,” Garin said thoughtfully, “I am beginning to see that dealings with my own people are not as black and white as I remember them to be.” Isa returned his grin, and Garin excused himself, leaving her alone with Ever.
“Come,” she said, taking his hand and leading him down the hall. “Let’s get some air.”
As they walked, she tried again to read him, to see into the depths of his soul. What was it about the children that bothered him so? But, as usual, she was shut out.
Isa had once asked Garin why it was sometimes so difficult for her to read Ever’s heart. Others came more easily to her, but for some reason, Ever could close himself off like a bear in its den.
“You
were privy only to the last few months of Ever and Nevina’s rivalry,” Garin had told her.
This mention of Ever’s old enemy had surprised Isa. She’d been sure Garin would talk about Ever’s father and all of his infamous lessons in denying his feelings.
“Nevina knew how to use Ever’s feelings against him and did so until the day she died.” Garin had given Isa a wry smile when she’d stared in surprise. “I know what you’re thinking, and yes, King Rodrigue did have a great hand in teaching Ever to keep his emotions hidden, but much of that training is gone. You, my dear, have worn it away. The shield Ever places over his heart at this time is one born of need. He placed it there to keep Nevina out.”
“But she’s long dead. How do I get past it?”
“I helped him build it for his own safety, but I’m really not sure now, to be honest. He was still building it even up until her death.” Garin had shrugged. “I don’t know how long it will be before even he knows how to take it down, or if he’ll ever have the ability to do so himself.”
Now Ever’s defenses were up in full as he followed her out to the crystal balcony. No musicians were there, as the hour had grown late, but Isa pulled him to the center of the blue floor and began to lead him in a slow, simple dance. That her story to the children had touched him was sure, for his eyebrows were drawn into a thoughtful, somewhat pained frown, but to what extent she had really reached him was still a mystery.
“Ever, what’s troubling you?”
In response, he drew her in for a kiss. It was gentle and sweet, but there was no passion to it tonight. Rather, his lips seemed to match the expression on his face, reserved and unsettled.
“What was that for?” she asked.
“For showing me the truth,” he said slowly. “You were right. I reacted far too quickly with the children. My anger was out of place.” He gave her a soft kiss on the cheek. “Now, you need to go to bed. You’ve been staying up entirely too much lately.”
That was quick. Isa had hoped to talk more. Although, since he had mentioned it, bed was sounding wonderful. “We all need reminders.” Isa smiled up at him.
Ever gave her a tired smile of his own in return, then turned and began to walk away.
“Wait!” Isa called out.
He turned, raising his eyebrows in question, and Isa’s blood suddenly raced, for she knew what she was about to say couldn’t be taken back.
“It... It will take a while for the children to find their places here.” She gave him the most hopeful smile she could muster. “They’ll need time.”
The blue flames that were always dancing around the pupils of Ever’s eyes changed direction, and Isa knew immediately what he thought of her suggestion as his face settled into its most guarded mask. “Isa,” he said softly, “I don’t know if—”
“Your Highness!” a young soldier, Eloy, burst through the door of the dining hall, stopping so fast he nearly fell over when he laid eyes on Isa. “My Queen!” He bowed, breathing hard. “I am sorry. I didn’t know you were both here.”
“What is it?” Ever stepped forward.
“We have found where the woman appears every day. She comes from...” he hesitated, looking at Ever and then Isa as though unsure whether or not they would believe him. “A tree. There is no door, no way to enter or exit, but she still comes from the inside of the tree every day. She melts through it, like a mist.”
“Where?” Ever asked.
“Just outside the small forest village of Samsin where she does her daily healings. And not only that.” Eloy still breathed heavily, the white of his dark eyes standing out in the low light of the moon. “The people are beginning to talk. And not just in the forest villagers either.”
“What are they saying?” Ever asked, and Isa held her breath.
“Forgive me for uttering their words, Your Highnesses... but they are saying that you have failed them one time too many.” Eloy’s voice fell to a whisper. “They wish to make her queen.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Ties of Blood
One day, Isa thought ruefully as she donned her bow and quiver, she would get a full night’s sleep again. But this was not that night. For as soon as the mention of an uprising had fallen from the soldier’s lips, Isa knew they were leaving. And though her exhaustion was great, she didn’t dare mention it to Ever. Mentioning a weakness of any kind would only send him into a worried tizzy that would land her in bed. If she was lucky, he might let her out again in another decade.
So instead of complaining, she allowed the servant to help mount her horse. She would sleep again, she told herself.
Eventually.
“Tell Henri that I will teach him to read his new book when we return,” Isa said to Garin as the steward adjusted one of her saddle bags. “And please ask Gigi to tell Genny a story every night before she tucks them in.”
“I think that by the time you return,” Garin said with a sly smile, “Gigi will have spoiled them so rotten they care for nothing but sweets.”
Isa had to smile at this, for she knew it was true. Despite Henri’s incident, Isa knew the Gigi would spare no expense in making sure the children were cared for and happy.
“Let us go,” Ever announced. The horde of servants who had come to help them prepare stood back as their king, queen, and five handpicked soldiers set out into the blackness of the early morning.
Isa tried unsuccessfully to quell the fluttering in her stomach as they began to make their way down the mountain road. If there was truly an uprising, there would most likely be blood shed at some point. And though no one could equal the strength or ability of her husband, Isa knew his reluctance to take up arms against any of his citizens. For all his hard exterior, Ever loved his people. And just as it had nearly killed him when the evil enchanter had tried to take the Fortress three years before, Isa worried that his compassion might lead to his injury now, or even worse.
She must not think of these things, Isa admonished herself. They had a three-day ride ahead of them. Ever did not wish to spend his strength on speed, but rather wanted to save it in case there was a confrontation. Instead of worrying the entire time, Isa decided to focus on what she wanted to say to Ever about the children. What she needed to say to Ever about the children. They had been on the cusp of such a conversation before Eloy had interrupted them, and whether Isa wanted to or not, they would need to finish their discussion sometime. They might as well get it done sooner rather than later.
Her chance did not come that first night, however, for they rode straight through the rest of the night and then on through the following day, stopping only to rest their horses. Isa slept each time they paused, managing to get an hour of sleep here and there, but it was never enough. On the second night when they finally did stop for the entire night, Isa fell asleep before supper was cooked. It was only on the third night that she finally got the chance to speak with Ever. The sleep she had gotten the night before had strengthened her some, and Isa felt as though she might burst if she did not speak to Ever soon.
Her prayers were answered that third night when Ever took the first watch. Isa waited on her sleeping roll until she could hear the steady breathing of the three men who were not on duty, and Ever had walked far enough away that whispers wouldn’t wake them. She wrapped her blanket around her shoulders and slipped out of the camp to stand beside him as he studied the moonlit landscape before them.
“I’ve never much liked these open valleys,” he said softly without looking at her. “They make me feel vulnerable. I would much rather travel along those bluffs in the distance.” He nodded at the tall shadows along the horizon. “But they’re too far out of the way for where we are going.”
Not sure what to say to that, Isa simply waited for her courage to catch up to the moment, her breaths coming too fast and making her feel almost dizzy. But this was her chance.
“Ever, I’ve been thinking,” she began, suddenly unable to look at his face. “When this is all over,” she gestured bac
k at the camp, “with the children, I mean...” Despite her nearly incoherent words, she could sense him stiffen in the dark and his heart began to seal itself up again.
“Before you fall in love with them,” he said, his voice kind but firm, “have you considered the repercussions of such an action?”
“Giving two orphans a home?” Isa’s voice was suddenly too loud and one of the men stirred. “Yes, I have considered that. I’ve concluded that taking them in permanently would mean we have two fewer children in the streets!”
“Isa, I know you want a child. And I understand—”
“No, Everard! You do not understand!”
“Then please enlighten me!” He finally turned toward her.
“You want an heir! Someone who will follow the rules and take the kingdom and do exactly as he’s told. But I want a child... children! Soft, warm children who make mistakes and make messes and say the wrong things at the wrong times. I want to hold a girl in my arms and whisper that all will be well when she cries, and to straighten her braids and have the tailor make her a dress that twirls when she spins! I want a son who is honest to the point of offending an odious supper guest because he is only saying what everyone else is thinking.” Isa leaned forward. “I want us to be needed, Ever, and those children need someone to love and hold them, to undo all the hurt their parents inflicted upon them.”
“I am sure they have family somewhere,” Ever said, his voice growing stiffer. “Your parents have a wide range of influence in Soudain. Surely they would know someone who could take them.”
“Henri has power. Genny might very well, too,” Isa said. “Other homes wouldn’t be prepared for such children. Genny told me that their stepmother didn’t like Henri’s fire. That might very well be why they were abandoned!”
“But you haven’t considered the long-term effects!” The fire in Ever’s eyes leapt wildly. “Say we do keep them! What happens if we die without an heir? Who do you think the people will crown?”
Beauty Beheld: A Retelling of Hansel and Gretel (The Becoming Beauty Trilogy Book 3) Page 11
