The plan didn’t proceed as smoothly as it should have. They became entangled in each other’s feet as Stellan tried to imitate the moves of the other dancers. His three quick lessons before the trip were proving to be insufficient.
Clarysa giggled. “Unconventional is a good start.” But her expression turned to one of concern as she looked up at him. “What’s wrong?”
Stellan leaned toward her ear. The aromatic smell of her skin briefly distracted him, and he paused to quell a stirring ache. This soon melted into a vat of embarrassment. “I…don’t know this dance.”
“Which ones do you know?”
“Only one, actually. ‘Wind in the Willow.’”
Clarysa smiled. “I know that one! It’s certainly an old…a classic.” She glanced at the musicians. “But we’ll need a different tune.”
She raced away, leaving Stellan to awkwardly dodge a number of gyrating bodies. The music came to an abrupt halt, prompting disgruntled murmurs and numerous glares in his direction. He wished he could conjure a shrinking incantation from his magickal repertoire.
Clarysa rushed back, red-faced and breathless. “Here we go, then!” She pushed herself into his arms as the music resumed.
It was a grand, uplifting piece conveyed by gentle strings and modest horns. The couples drifted into a wide circle, spinning in place while each pair took turns in the middle showing off elaborate moves. Sometimes two couples or more pivoted about, chasing each other across the floor with laughs and challenges to whirl faster, harder. Clarysa had indicated her intention to step into the circle early on, but Stellan held her back. Not because he didn’t know the steps, but because he hadn’t expected the format to draw so much attention to individual pairs. He was content to remain on the sidelines.
But Clarysa foiled him. She yanked him toward the center, her petite figure belying such strength. Stellan gaped and nearly tripped. Thankfully, she steadied him as he bumped into her.
She shot him a wicked grin. “Let’s show them how it’s done!”
Stellan nodded. Her tone, her manner, her looks… They somehow empowered him. Tightening his grip, he swept her hard across the wide space. A rousing crescendo matched his mood.
Surprisingly, she kept up. They whipped about the floor and scattered the other couples with their enthusiasm. It was as if they had danced together a hundred times, so in tune they were with each other’s movements. Clarysa laughed and laughed. The music swelled into a thunderous wave of notes.
Stellan even forgot about the onlookers. Everything was a blur except for the lithesome woman in his arms. A woman…in my arms. He wondered at the strangeness of it all. Then he had an idea. It would be subtle, a little extra something to enhance the splendor of the dance and top off her evening. After having seen her nude, he wanted her to experience something exciting in return.
Ever so quietly, Stellan began to speak, the words of a charm issuing from between barely parted lips. As the words faded and the magick built, he swept Clarysa into a brisk spin.
But in his excitement he miscalculated. What started as a slight lift into the air became a soaring, head-turning ascent. Stellan and his partner twirled around as if birds in flight, gliding a solid six or seven feet into the air. Clarysa clung to him tightly, though she needn’t have worried, for the magick made it seem as though their feet were still on solid ground. He risked a look into her face and for a moment lost himself in her flushed, exquisite features.
After they drifted back to the floor, however, it was another story entirely. The music had come to an abrupt end as even the musicians became slack-jawed at the spectacle he had created. Clarysa smiled and encouraged him to keep dancing, but the faces behind her were awash with scowls and horrified looks. Caught up in the moment, he had forgotten exactly where he was and the expectations for his behavior. Not to mention who he was. Idiot! What were you thinking? Now he’d ruined any chance of meeting with King Leopold.
Stellan’s voice sounded tight as he spoke. “I…I should go now. Pleasure meeting you. Give Lionel my regards.”
He turned and strode quickly from the hall, ignoring her loud protests and avoiding the icy, fearful stares of the other guests. He hailed a stable attendant and asked for his steed. When it arrived, Stellan mounted, swiping the reins from the attendant in a mad rush. Flustered and dejected, he galloped away from Aldebaran as fast as his horse could travel.
Chapter 6
Katherine stoked the fire with more wood, attempting to produce a rolling boil in her kettle. The second wave of cabbage she and her husband Mathias had planted in the early spring was now rewarding them with thick, bountiful heads, the best she had seen in the past three years. She placed three on her chopping block and began to strip the outer leaves of one. This would make a fine meal tonight, no doubt.
Nearby, baby Andrew began to wail. Katherine looked plaintively back at the doorway of the child’s room. Her heart told her to check on him, but her head believed it would be best to attend to the thin strips of meat now rapidly frying on the stove. “Mathias? Can you please see what your son has gotten himself into?” The water was boiling; the meat looked ready. She dared not leave this delicacy to be burned beyond all recognition, especially seeing how rare it was for the family to have meat these days. “Mathias? My hands are tied at the moment!”
No answer.
Katherine carefully lowered the now-cut cabbage down into the steaming water. Her husband was a good man, she had to admit. He never hurt her, nor drank away their meager savings, but sometimes…at least once a month…she would’ve liked to see his head out of the clouds and concentrating on what he was doing at the moment.
“Land’s sake, never mind! I’ll check myself.” As Katherine turned, she failed to recognize that the sounds of her child, so acutely wailing moments before, had suddenly stopped. No, all thoughts of this fled her mind as she encountered the half-man half-monster before her. It was a shambling mockery of a being, one faintly resembling her husband. But was it really him?
The strange creature leaped toward her. A scream broke from the depths of her lungs–only to never see the light of day. The air began to fill with smoke from the unattended meat left burning.
* * * *
Midnight neared.
Seated in Vandeborg’s highest tower room, Stellan played his pipe organ. He pressed down upon keys that resembled the stained, cracked teeth of a village beggar. When he had first discovered the room, he’d found fragile, wrinkled music sheets in the pipe organ’s storage rack. The tunes predated him by at least a hundred years. Over time, he’d taught himself the pieces, having to squint and guess at smudged or faded notes.
Modest in size, the organ boasted six-foot metallic pipes and mahogany casework. Like the rest of the castle, it had fallen into heart-breaking disrepair. But other than forage for sustenance and ward off the cold, Stellan had nothing better to do in those early years than to fix it–so he had.
The room itself, large enough for the organ, the musician’s bench, and a small fire grate, was always bitterly cold no matter how much wood burned. Stellan’s fingerless gloves provided some warmth while allowing him freedom of movement. He loved the music dearly and played it so loudly the melodies often spread throughout the darkened castle halls. Over the years, many a sorrowful refrain delivered welcome respite from the eternal loneliness of his life. The organ was his pride and joy, and he spent hours keeping it well-oiled and maintained.
Stellan thought about the wedding party, the music a backdrop to his musings. Some parts of that evening he could have done without, particularly the stuffy and pretentious Aldebaran royalty. He smiled wryly, wondering what the wedding guests at Leopold’s court would think about his music, so troubled and mournful. Would Clarysa like it? She seemed so much the opposite, full of sunlight and happiness. After the stunt he had pulled, would she ever be allowed to see him again? Stellan frowned. Most likely the answer would be “no.”
“My oh my, why so gloomy tonight?�
�
Startled, Stellan slammed his hands down at the sound of the voice. Pipes choked and sputtered as the music died off. He shot a look toward the entrance. A tall, shapely woman in an ebony dress filled the frame.
“What do you want?” he asked with a measured stare. “And who let you in?”
A slow smile curled her lips as she glided forward. She unclasped her lavender cape and slipped the hood from her head. Lustrous black hair emerged. She gracefully smoothed it back, though no grooming was needed. The scent of jasmine preceded her.
Emerald eyes gleaming, she leaned an elbow on the organ’s edge. “Is that how you’re going to greet your loving sister?” She spoke in a low, sultry voice. “I’ve come a long way, and with diligent furtiveness. There’s no need to blame your poor servants. After all, we both know I have my ways.”
Stellan resumed playing. “And may I ask what suddenly brings you back into my life…after what? Four years? Five? How long has it been, Sada? But don’t think I didn’t appreciate all the help.” He pounded harder on the keys.
“Tsk,” she murmured. “You don’t have to be so cranky.” Sada rested her chin in her hand. “Hmmm…that’s a marvelous tune. What’s it called?”
His muscles tensed. “I know you didn’t come all this way to ask me the name of a song. Quit playing games and state your business.”
From the corner of his eye, he noticed her crestfallen expression. Once upon a time, he might have been fooled by her theatrics. Now, however, he viewed her every move with suspicion.
“Maybe I have come just to see you. Did you ever think of that? No?” She stepped over to the fire and stretched out her hands to its feeble warmth. “Stellan, I’ve come to warn you.”
As if you care about me anymore. Ignoring the heaviness in his chest, he continued playing, and said nothing.
“You need to end this little crusade of yours. Father’s becoming very upset, and so are the others.”
“Alucard, you mean.”
“Precisely. They’ve worked hard on this project, and your efforts are obstructing them. I’d be devastated if anything were to happen to you.”
Stellan barked out a laugh. Again he slammed his fingers down upon the brittle keys. “Naturally, you’d do everything within your power to prevent it. The effortlessness with which you speak from both sides of your mouth is simply astounding. You truly are a master enchantress!”
Sada turned a steely gaze on him. Her right hand balled into a tight fist. “All right. I tried being nice, now I’m going to order you. Stop hunting the experiments, Brother! They exist for a purpose, and any countermeasures on your part can only be construed as traitorous to your own people!” She left the fire and kneeled at his feet. Her heavy sigh lingered in the air. “Why are you so against everyone? Against me? I’m on your side whether you believe it or not.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “You may be the Mage’s son and heir, but don’t underestimate his ambition.”
Stellan hit the keys with barely contained fury. And neither should he underestimate mine.
“Will you stop that awful music for one moment, please?” Sada’s voice turned sharp. “Take a look about you–a good, long look! This bare-bones existence is destroying you, and it doesn’t have to be this way.”
She rested a hand on his arm. Did she mean to comfort him? Stellan jerked away from her touch, but a small, hidden part of him regretted the loss of contact. Sada used to be more than a sister–she’d been his closest friend.
Undaunted, she continued speaking. “Think about it–when the project succeeds, we’ll be mighty again. Invincible.” Her gaze softened. “Come back with me, and beg forgiveness from the family.”
“And destroy my integrity in the process?” Stellan began playing a melancholic tune. “You claim to care for me. How could you demand such a sacrifice?”
Sada shook her head. “Allow me to offer another perspective. If we return together as a united front, we’ll be so much more powerful. No one ever has to hurt you again or force a wedge between us. You and I will pretend to go along with their plan. When the time is ripe, we’ll seize the throne. Think about the possibilities!” She shivered. “And we’ll use other methods of control. Truth be told, I never did care for those monstrosities. The treatment makes them terribly ugly, and they stink.”
Stellan turned on her, his face twisted with anger. “Then why did you allow them to continue when it was within your power to oppose them? Father and Alucard’s mad call for revenge was a mistake from the beginning and you know it. It was misguided, moronic, and poorly executed. And I’ve spent the past fifteen years trying to clean up His Royal Highness’s ugly, stinking mess. Tell them they can both shove it all up their pompous asses.”
Sada’s laughter tinkled pleasantly throughout the room. “Such a colorful way with words! Is that what you learned from these servants of yours?”
Stellan sighed. “I don’t see how you can overlook what Father has done to us.”
“Well I don’t understand your reluctance to overthrow him directly. Have you forgotten the importance of ambition?”
He cut her a sharp look. “Will that be all now?”
“Actually, no. There is one other concern.” She stood and spent a few moments straightening her dress.
Stellan clenched his teeth. “Well?”
“Everyone knows about your little tryst, I’m afraid.”
“My little what?” Despite his flippant denial, he tensed inside. Had she or Alucard caught him watching Clarysa at the river? No–it was impossible! He’d been extremely careful.
She crossed her arms. “You know exactly what and who I mean.” She smirked. “I heard you took her on quite a flight the other evening.”
Damn! They had sent a spy to the wedding. He kept himself as rigid as stone. “I didn’t have a little…tryst. I didn’t have anything.” Stellan pounded more loudly. Notes bludgeoned the air. “You heard wrong.”
Sada laughed. “Of course. Keep at her, if you want. It’ll be our little secret.” She swooped in to murmur in his ear. “But remember, dearest, if it becomes anything more, I’ll be forced to take action.”
Stellan hunched lower over the keyboard and bared his teeth. “Leave me alone.”
“As you wish.” She departed as silently as she had entered.
Dark images of his family’s past flashed through Stellan’s mind. Noisome, malignant images that tore into his heart. Deeply troubled, he earned his reputation as the Dark Prince once more by playing long and hard into the night.
Chapter 7
Clarysa turned the pages of her book one by one. She had given up on actually reading it hours ago because her mind relentlessly wandered. Placing it aside, she gazed across the meadow. The hunting party, now swelled to double its usual number, had arrived midmorning. Men and horses spotted the field, both beast and human enjoying a light snack and games before the hunting began. The bright sun nestled against a clear blue sky.
Clarysa sat on a colorful woven blanket at the wood’s edge, a cup of tea by her side. This was her second time in two months joining the hunt, much to Lionel’s amusement and over Edward’s strenuous objections. But Father had arbitrated, and she was allowed to come. The reason for her presence was hardly a secret. The men knew the answer lay in a certain sorcerer prince named Stellan.
They were right, of course.
Clarysa sighed, for there was no guarantee he would come. He hadn’t showed the month prior, but it wasn’t a surprise considering the stunt he had pulled at the wedding. The memory never failed to bring a smile to her face. What an exhilarating experience! She regretted it had ended so quickly.
After he left, Clarysa had wandered the castle halls as if in a stupor. Sleep came only at dawn, and brought passionate dreams of one dark, handsome prince. Who could have known her destiny lay with a dark, mysterious sorcerer? At least, that’s what she hoped. Since she wouldn’t be allowed to visit Vandeborg to see him, she did the next best thing.
Bu
t the waiting had been interminable. And when Stellan had failed to make an appearance at the last hunt, the intervening days until the next were unbearable. Clarysa could deal with her sisters’ teasing and Edward’s staid lecturing about appropriate behavior. But to never see Stellan again…well, that was unacceptable. She would have to stir up another plan if today were no different.
She stood and adjusted her dress. It was meant for show only as she would not be hunting herself. Her father had laid down that condition quite clearly. Clarysa had chosen a formfitting jade piece with a plunging neckline and flowing skirt–green to herald the burgeoning summer season, and plunging to herald the Dark Prince’s arrival. Clarysa giggled at the thought.
This particular dress flattered her figure. Prior to the wedding, the effect it had on others hadn’t mattered to her. But now she only wanted one man’s attention.
If he even came.
She left her reading spot and sauntered around. One of the cooks handed her a crisp vegetable pastry. Clarysa thanked him and idly munched. But her stomach felt jumpy with anticipation, and so she tossed the other half to the ground as she wandered.
With a sigh, she figured she might as well join in a game to distract herself. She aimed for Lionel’s group, which was currently engrossed in a darts competition.
Within moments the earth began to shake as hooves thundered behind her. Someone racing, perhaps? Clarysa turned around, and barely had time to jump out of the way of a rider and horse bearing directly toward her. A mighty black stallion roared past. The force of its gallop caused her hair and skirt to flutter wildly. Clarysa shivered as excitement pumped through her veins.
Lord of Snow and Ice Page 7