She stepped back. “I wasn’t proposing marriage to you, or even desiring it. Truth be told, I was only working to avoid someone else. I apologize if consideration from a woman of my inconsequential status and tarnished reputation has offended your propriety yet again.”
At last, Armond reached her, taking her hand into his. “I’d like to finish our conversation,” he beseeched.
She turned to him, partly confused over their conversation not having reached a close but also finding the sight of him so much less disturbing in comparison with the alternative. “Oh, come on, Armond. Let’s have this next dance.”
It had been some time since any of them had danced and Hazel had scarcely done so in her youth. But it mattered little. They were in a room of rich and poor alike with few nobles present to critique.
“Are you going to tell me what that was about?” Armond asked.
Avoiding his gaze, she said, “I don’t know what you mean.”
“You went from fleeing the sight of me to fleeing with me… and from the golden king of Bashtii.”
She peered up into his face in time to discover a smirk there. It was true he was jealous, but at this moment, he was only teasing.
“It was nothing of consequence, I assure you,” she replied lightly.
“Well, whatever it was… good for him.”
“Are you saying you’re pleased he insulted me so I would dance with you?” she asked, feigning irritation when what she was beginning to feel was… flattered?
“He insulted you?” He ceased dancing and moved as if to confront Fredrick.
Swiftly, she took hold of his sleeve and towed him back into the dance. “The last thing we need is a feud between allied kingdoms,” she said laughingly.
It was a moment before he could shrug it off, but he was soon smiling down at her. “Well, if he doesn’t stop flirting with you, we may have one anyway.”
“Flirting? Hardly!”
He chuckled. “Yes, flirting, my lady. Have you not been shown enough special attention in your life to understand when you’re receiving it?”
She grew somber a moment. Thinking over her life, she certainly had not.
“I’m sorry…” he said softly, staring down with the old consideration, as if he knew her thoughts.
“I don’t want to be pitied by you,” she said. It was truer now than ever. It had been that pity that had made her believe he felt for her more than he had all that time ago. Of course… now he actually was claiming to possess feelings. But she had some serious misgivings.
He appeared surprised by her response and said soberly, “You do not have my pity, Hazel.” In his tone, she read how much more he felt. She did not think it love. It was admiration, respect, esteem. As a girl, she’d wanted others to find her beautiful. But he honored her for who she was and she found that reached her much more significantly… crawling under her skin in a way she dreaded.
* * *
It was difficult to fall asleep that evening. Her mind spun with the events of the day—astonishing confessions, exasperating insults. But she was so proud Armond was crowned king. And his first decree had been to pardon Dorian by making him part of his personal guard. It did Armond credit that he recognized the quality of man Dorian had become, and had even seen fit to pardon the past by offering him a very promising second chance.
As for her sentiments about Armond’s admission, she hardly knew what to think. She still firmly believed his sensation of feeling was due to his need of her. It was true he owed her much, she would not deny it. But she could not believe he was any more in love with her now than he had been before, even if so much had changed since then.
As for the state of her own heart… It was such a mess of emotion, she hardly knew how she felt. It was true: something of the old feelings for him had re-awoken when he’d spoken to her. But she could not bear to let it take root again. His prior rejection had cut deeply. She’d felt her world had fallen apart. The next morning, it actually had.
The look on Fredrick’s face when she’d asked him to dance flashed into her memory. It was a little humiliating to know he’d thought her chasing after him and had so detested it. But why had he shown her such attention only a short while before if she was so far beneath him?
She pounded her fist into the mattress as she realized it must have been in response to Armond’s little rivalry over her. How could she have believed he truly esteemed her? Well, she would do all in her power to avoid him until he went away again.
But then… she remembered why he’d come, how he’d arrived with a whole battalion. Surely, there was kindness in him… but that did not mean she had to concern herself with it. That was up to Armond, as was negotiating the renewed alliance. In his treatment of Dorian, Armond had proven to her how worthy he’d grown of his crown. This negotiation was his chance to prove himself to the people.
17
That night, Hazel awoke to a burning in her chest. Upon peering down, she found the place from which the pain stemmed was… glowing. With a squeal, she leaped from the bed and raced to the full-length mirror. It continued to burn as she watched it work its way toward her throat. Another gasp and she was singing. It was nearly involuntary, but she found it helped, so she continued wailing out her obscure note. When it hit her throat, the note was cut off and she bent over, choking and heaving. Finally, with a guttural hack, it flew from her mouth.
Taking up the skirts of her nightdress, she raced to where she had heard it crash. Relief of being free of the unidentified object washed over her as she knelt before what appeared to be a radiant stone… a diamond? But how and when had she swallowed it? And why was it glowing? She reached for it but hissed when it seared her fingers. Nursing the burned hand, she reached for a nearby kerchief and used it to take up the stone to examine more closely. It was large and, if she knew anything about gems, pristinely cut. But how on Kaern had she ended up with it inside her? And what was she to do with it?
“Go,” the voice she’d heard in the prison earlier in the evening whispered into her ear.
“Who is it?” she cried out, frightened now.
“Go. The door.”
Hoping beyond all hope this voice meant her no harm—that, indeed, it was the god-Entity of the land—she went for the door.
Abruptly, it struck her: the day they’d discovered The Mirror had survived. There had been evidence of another room behind it. Within it had been a stone much like the one she held, but it had been broken to pieces. She still had it in the drawer of her nightside table.
“The Mirror… is that where I must take it?” she asked the air.
The stone shone hotter, sending her feet racing. It struck her that the room behind The Mirror had not been rebuilt. Who could have foreseen a purpose for it? Now, what was she to do when she got to the mirror room and could not place the diamond in its rightful place? Moreover, why was it to be put there at all?
The Mirror’s door was before her. It possessed no keeper. It was all but forgotten to them at the present. If noble eighteen-year-olds were no longer forced to enter, what was its use to anyone? Stepping in, she found a somewhat familiar feeling carpet in the center of the room.
“Great Entity, I am here. But what am I to do?”
As if lifted by the great gust of wind that followed, the far wall rose into the ceiling. Another room was revealed—one they had not built. Within it, stood something like a fireplace, but set higher so its hearthstone reached her waist.
“What on Kaern…” she whispered.
The diamond burned severely through her kerchief, so she swiftly emptied it onto the hearthstone. But it did not feel right to her. Mind racing, she came to the conclusion that the diamond burned because it was meant to act as a fire-starter within the hearth. But hot as it was, it wasn’t nearly hot enough for that. Some other act was expected of her.
Placing hands on hips, she nearly leaped as she looked to her waist. Somehow, her scabbard containing the red sword had been fastened aro
und her. She had some small recollection of having done so before she’d picked up the stone in her bedroom, but she’d not been conscious of what she’d done at the time, nor even why.
Nervously, she withdrew the ruby blade. It glowed in answer, fully knowledgeable of its use. On an inkling and with great apprehension, she touched its tip to the diamond.
The explosion hurled her back into the mirror room where she was caught safely in the arms of the wind. She coughed and waved at the smoke as she worked to regain her breath. After the haze dissipated, she wandered to the threshold of the secret room.
An enormous fire blazed from the place, white at the center, then purple, with a red ring on the outside. It was the strangest flame she’d beheld and hotter than any usual fire. It made her feel alive, rambunctious. Its heat pulsated through her body, into her heart, beating in time.
That was it… that was what she was hearing. It possessed something like a heartbeat. The diamond at the center beat like a live heart. That was what made her feel so lively. The flames pulsated in time. Within them, she saw visions of kings, knights and ladies performing all sorts of deeds—some wicked, others courageous and awe-inspiring. The images flashed so fast, she scarcely grasped a moment of it for her own recollection. But when she gazed down at the carpet piece, she recognized some of those heroes and villains as the men and women within the embroidered chronicle.
A woman with her mouth open and music streaming from it caught her eye. She bent to touch it and suddenly the wall to the diamond’s room slammed shut. She raced to it, touching her hands to its stone. It was already warmed through. With the raising of her brows, she suddenly recalled the note she’d left herself the last time she’d visited the room. This, then, was what she’d been searching for, this peculiar room with no doors except that which could be opened by the room’s Entity.
With a sigh, she turned away. Approaching the exit, her hand went for the doorknob. She paused. Like always, she would not recall what had occurred within. But perhaps she might piece it together in time. After all, she would not forget the stone nor from where it had come. That, along with her note about the wall all that time ago, might be enough. Not to mention, the Great Entity had spoken to her twice in one night… outside of the room. His attention to her would not soon be forgotten.
* * *
Shouting sounded throughout the castle for some time before Hazel peeled her eyes open. The sunlight in her bedroom revealed she’d awoken later than she’d meant. She was utterly exhausted, though she could scarcely recall why. There’d been a burning in her chest… Oh! That got her out of bed. She’d coughed up a diamond, and then taken it to The Mirror. After that… she’d crawled back into bed. Swiftly, she dressed and patted her hair into place before opening the door and nearly colliding with her maid.
“Oh, my lady, you mustn’t go about with your hair like that. And you missed breakfast, so I brought a tray for you. Perhaps you’d like to sit at the little table on the balcony. It is a fine morning.”
But Hazel stood eyeing the hall outside her door. It wasn’t a hall at all. It was their meager library.
“Yes, my lady,” Anna said, “as you see, the castle is up to its old tricks. Took me some time to locate your chamber. In the end, it was a poor guardsman who found you. I’m afraid it was with an embarrassment he will not soon forget, waltzing into your ladyship’s room while you were fast asleep.”
“But… I do not understand. We were meant to believe the old castle had been built to alter itself each day. We certainly did no such thing with the new one.”
“Then we must believe it was—is—enchanted, just as the ‘fools’ always believed. In any case, it has come back to life, though none can gather just why. It’s driving everyone just crackers. Well, only those who did not secretly miss it. But since it is a new fortress, with all new rooms and corridors, you cannot blame them being troubled. No one’s got the schedule yet. It’s been knocking upon door after door all morning until we learn its ways again.”
Hazel bit her lip as she sat to breakfast. Could it be that whatever she had done in the mirror room had altered things? Could it be her fault that the poor guardsman had gone waltzing into a lady’s bedchamber—that they must all spend weeks learning the new fortress’ ways?
Looking up at its walls, a smile crept onto her face. It was back—her old friend. Despite it all, she was grateful. If it had been her doing, she was delighted. Their slain stronghold had returned from the dead.
Once finished with her meal, she wondered how she would use her time that day. She knew there was much to be done, but as Armond had not officially offered her a position now he was king, she wasn’t certain what she had a right to dictate to. It was not in her interest to overstep. Even so, it wasn’t long before much of the castle staff were coming to her for answers. She sent as much as she could on to Armond, but she thought it her duty to the promise she made to him to continue helping as best she could. And as the staff were so accustomed to coming to her, it would not hurt to aid in the more menial tasks… That was, until she made her way to a quiet corner and heard her name uttered.
“…They’re saying it doesn’t bode well for the alliance,” said a woman’s voice.
“Which is exactly why the king must be ousted, and the great Lady Hazel crowned in his stead,” said the other.
“That’s what everyone’s wanted all along. It was only due to her loyalty to him that we went along with the coronation.”
Hazel stepped out from around the corner, hands on hips. “And my loyalty to him does not waver.”
The serving maids leaped and flushed shades of red.
“But, m-m-my lady—”
“Let it be known,” she interrupted, “I’ve no intention whatever of entertaining notions of taking the throne for myself. If King Armond should be ousted, I go with him.”
“Yes, my lady,” the first gasped with a deep curtsy, the second not far behind. The two scurried on their way.
Hazel shook her head. This would not do. How could anyone imagine her upon a throne? Why, only the year before, she’d been despised for who her parents were. Her parentage had not altered since then. She was not ruler material.
Working to subside her anger, she recalled an invitation to do needlework with Stacia and Rebecca. She’d not thought to take them up on it, but as she thought it in everyone’s best interest that she retire from aiding the staff until arrangements could be made with Armond, she supposed returning to her old pastime might be a comfort.
The ladies were more than pleased to see her, just as they were every time they met. It seemed she was a favorite of theirs, which was more discomfiting than complimentary. Always, they wished her to accompany them in whatever menial project they meant to perform. But for a girl who was accustomed to being both useful and alone, it was a bit much.
“We were just discussing how difficult it is to return to courtly life after a year of utility,” Stacia said.
“But not too difficult,” Rebecca added.
Hazel and Stacia exchanged silent smiles. Despite everything, nothing could change Rebecca.
“But it has been scandalously dull of late,” Rebecca continued. “Even at the ball last night, there was scarcely a dignified partner to be had. If it hadn’t been for that gorgeous Bashtiian king bringing all those knights, there wouldn’t have been a one.”
“Speaking of King Fredrick,” Stacia said, “he seemed rather taken with you, Hazel… as did Armond.”
Hazel blinked. “I don’t think they—”
“You were hogging them,” Rebecca blurted crossly.
Stacia laughed. “If merely being herself is hogging them...” She looked to Hazel with understanding.
Hazel smiled back. She had once thought Stacia had got her to announce her love to Armond for the pleasure of seeing her rejected. But as the lady continued to encourage her about him, she reconsidered. It wasn't as if the two were going to be the closest friends, but it was nice to know one
of the old foes had grown to respect her even before she’d become “Lady Fortune.”
“I'm not sure what I wouldn't have given to be sat where you were, Hazel,” Rebecca said.
“To have not one but two king’s fawning over you…” Stacia added. “I can't say I've ever been hugely fond of Armond myself, but he does have rather astounding eyes.”
Rebecca sighed. “I was never allowed to pursue him with Dianna around.” She perked up. “But she's not around anymore.” She turned to Hazel. “I don't suppose you’ve laid claim to him?”
Hazel was stunned by the notion that, at her command, Rebecca would consider him off-limits. Things certainly had changed. “Where is Dianna these days?” she inquired. “I didn't see her at the coronation.”
“She doesn't leave her quarters,” Rebecca said. “Cannot bear being seen by anyone but us and a single maid.”
“Doesn't even like seeing us much,” Stacia added. “Not that we relish the idea of spending all day every day in that drab little room of hers, anyway.”
“I don't understand,” Hazel began. “Hasn’t her hair grown back?”
“No,” Stacia said with sudden sorrow. “The flames seem to have damaged her to the follicles. It only grows in wispy patches.”
Hazel’s brows rose. That did put matters into another light. Even so, it should not stop the lady from living. “All she's lost is her hair. Her legs work fine. And her face is still... as it was.” She couldn't bring herself to call the girl beautiful when she possessed such a cruel heart.
“Indeed,” Rebecca replied. “But a woman’s hair is her pride, especially when hers was such a brilliant auburn. Thinks herself grotesque without it.”
Hazel refrained from rolling her eyes at the inane statement about a woman’s pride. “But a headscarf of some kind was offered?”
“It does no good,” Stacia said. “You know Dianna.”
Hazel did... but not as a friend. Even so, it was not difficult to imagine her too vain to be seen in her current state. She could almost pity the girl, but she was not there just yet.
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