“He had his reasons for that. He thought they had killed you. You don’t know him at all if you think he could kidnap his monarch—or steal his throne. He’s loyal to the crown. Dansen Arbre acted without his knowledge or permission.”
“If that’s what you think, then you are far too young to be playing politics.”
“I may be young, but I’m old enough to know who I love, and that is Merritt. I intend to marry him. Whatever his father has done or not done is nothing to do with him. You must announce the engagement tonight. You gave your word.” She glared daggers at her father, her lips compressed into a furious line, hands clenched into fists in her lap.
“And that is your final word? There is nothing I can say that will sway you?”
“Nothing. I will marry Merritt or no one.”
The king rose. “In that case, please give me that lovely shawl you’re wearing. Sir Hawk, you have your orders.”
She removed her sparkling shawl and thrust it at him, a look of confusion on her face. The king passed it to me, and I accepted it with at least as much confusion. What on earth was going on here?
When Kyrrim drew Ecfirrith, the princess’s eyes widened in shock, and she stepped back abruptly. But he only made the familiar three slashes in the air, bringing a gateway shimmering into life.
“Lady Willow,” the king said, “I apologise in advance for my daughter. She will not be an easy houseguest.”
Willow blinked in surprise but said nothing. Probably too shocked at discovering the identity of her houseguest to comment.
The princess looked back and forth between her and Kyrrim and shook her head violently. “No. No, I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“I beg to differ, Your Highness,” Kyrrim said as he sheathed his sword again. Mist swirled within the gateway, bringing with it the familiar fragrances of Willow’s gardens. “Don’t make this any harder than it has to be.”
Wildly, the princess looked around the room, searching for a friendly face in vain. “I’ll scream.”
“I wouldn’t advise that, my dear,” her father said. There was no threat in his voice, but plenty of authority.
But the princess wasn’t done. “You can’t force me to go anywhere I don’t want to. I am a princess of the Realms.”
“Of course I can,” the king said dispassionately. “I am the king, and you are my subject as well as my daughter. You have been spoiled all your life, and I can’t change that, but I can take steps to give you the education you should have had. You are going for an extended stay in the mortal world. It’s time you experienced real life outside the bubble of the palace.”
And away from the influence of Summer, though he didn’t say that.
Kyrrim took her arm while she was still gaping at her father in outrage. She struggled against his grip, but she was no match for the knight. Before she quite knew what had happened, he had drawn her through the gateway and the pair of them had disappeared into the swirling mist.
We all stood in silent shock for a moment, then Willow stirred. “I guess I’d better go with them.”
“Rowan, perhaps you could help, too,” the king suggested.
“Me?” He looked horrified to have come to the king’s notice.
“I’ll need the Hawk back here,” the king said, “and Lady Willow may need some support.”
“Of—of course, Your Majesty.” He executed an awkward bow, then he, too, stepped through the gate and disappeared.
I glanced at Sage, who looked as surprised as I felt. Rothbold had always been so charming, so welcoming to me, that I’d almost forgotten he was a fae king, which was practically the very definition of ruthlessness. It was a terrible risk he was taking, from a personal point of view. There was every chance that his daughter would never forgive him for this. They were hardly on the best of terms as it was. And he only had one child. But for the good of the kingdom and the future of his dynasty, this betrothal idea had to be put to bed once and for all. He had just demonstrated that he was more than capable of doing whatever it took to achieve that end.
The gate snapped shut, making me flinch. I glanced down at the diaphanous shawl clenched between my fingers. “But what will the queen say when she realises the princess is gone?”
“That’s where you come in, Allegra. It will be your job to make sure the queen doesn’t realise it.”
I boggled at him. Was he seriously suggesting what I thought he was? I looked at the shawl with new eyes. “But …”
“It’s only for tonight,” he said. “After tonight, Lily can disappear with impunity and I will face whatever consequences my wife chooses to bring.” A steely glint entered his blue eyes. “But I will have no doubt left in anyone’s mind about this betrothal. It must be clear to all that there is no chance of Lily ever marrying Merritt. I’m sure you can be sufficiently convincing.”
Oh, Lady save me. He was serious. He honestly meant for me to impersonate a princess of the Realms in front of the very people who knew her best. Was he insane or just desperate?
“But what about Illusion?” Ye gods. I, Allegra Brooks, was meant to be taking centre stage tonight. How could I be in two places at once, in two bodies at once? This was absolute madness. “I need to be present tonight. We should get Morwenna or one of the others to take your daughter’s place.”
“No. No one else must know. I’m sure you’ll be able to manage it.” Rothbold smiled at me. “It looks like you have a busy evening ahead of you.”
22
“This is crazy.” I crushed the shawl in my fists, my stomach roiling with nerves. “I can’t do it.”
The king had left the room, leaving Sage and me staring after him in shock.
“Yes, you can,” Sage said, fiercely loyal as always, though I would have been happier if there’d been a teensy bit more conviction in her voice. “You can do anything. And we’ll help you any way we can.”
I didn’t know what she could do, but her support made me feel better. I wrapped the beautiful shawl around my shoulders, my hands shaking. This was not how I had expected this day to go. And my expectations of enjoying tonight had already been pretty rock-bottom to start with. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. Rothbold was either insane or inspired, and we wouldn’t know which until the night was over.
“Okay, let’s do this. Watch the door for me, please. I don’t want someone to come in while I’m mid-change.”
Sage moved to the door and held the handle so that it wouldn’t turn, watching me with avid curiosity. She’d never seen me change forms before.
Feeling a little self-conscious, I closed my eyes. Lirra said that wasn’t necessary, but I found it helpful. I focused on an image of the princess as I’d just seen her, in the sparkling silver dress, her dark hair braided down her back, the diaphanous shawl draped elegantly over her pale shoulders. I felt the magic wash over me and heard Sage gasp.
“How do I look?” I opened my eyes, checking out my new form. “Did I get the dress right?”
Sage nodded. “Operation Fake Princess is a go.”
“Okay.” I squared my shoulders. “I’d better go find my room and start getting ready for the ceremony. Wish me luck.”
She flung her arms around me and squeezed. “You won’t need luck. You’ll make your own.”
I hugged her back, wishing she could come with me, but that would look strange, so I went downstairs and found a page to direct me to the princess’s room. My room. I kept my face carefully expressionless, trying for Lily’s natural resting bitch face. I didn’t even thank the page when we arrived at the room and he opened the door, merely swept past him.
Two maids waited inside, and they leapt up and dropped into low curtseys at my entrance.
“We have everything ready, Your Highness,” one said, opening a door that led into a light-filled bedroom. Another stunning dress was laid out on the massive bed, this one in a deep blue scattered with tiny pearls. “Would you like to begin?”
I nodded, and
they began to undo the myriad buttons that ran down the back of the silver gown I wore. I had a sudden panic as they slid it from my shoulders that my underwear might give me away, but that had changed, too, thank the Lady.
The whole experience was so bizarre. Did the princess do nothing for herself? I held myself stiffly, not wanting to put a foot wrong, but it seemed that nothing was expected of me. The maids did everything, working in silence. Did Lily normally chat to them? They made no effort to start a conversation, so maybe not. Or perhaps they assumed she was nervous about the evening to come and the announcement of her betrothal, and so left her to her thoughts.
The dressing took longer than I could have imagined, and then they led me to a chair in front of a dressing table and proceeded to spend another eon on doing my hair. I observed the pale beautiful face in the mirror as they curled my newly black locks and piled them on my head. The shape of that face and the famed Brenfell eyes were all her father, but the hauteur was definitely the queen. There was no warmth in that blue gaze. Maybe she was a bitch to her servants, and they were glad she was ignoring them.
How did I get myself into these situations?
We were interrupted by a knock on the outer door of the suite. One of the maids put down her curling wand and went to answer it, returning with a tiny bouquet of flowers.
“From Lord Merritt, Highness.”
And they were lilies. So creative of him. My lip started to curl before I remembered who I was.
“How sweet,” I said as the maid carefully pinned the corsage to my breast.
The waxy flowers did nothing for the dress, which was stunning all on its own. The pearls stitched onto it and woven through my hair glowed like tiny moons. They were a slightly different colour to the creamy lilies, but just close enough so that it looked like the flower-giver had tried to match the pearls and failed. Still, the real Lily would no doubt be thrilled with the flowers.
I eyed the gorgeous dress, thanking my lucky stars that my magic would reproduce the details for me when I needed to switch between forms. I’d have no hope of remembering the placement of every individual pearl and raven lock on my own.
The door opened again, this time without anyone knocking, and the queen swept in. The maids curtseyed as she brushed my cheek with her lips.
“You look beautiful, darling. Merritt is a lucky man. Are those lilies from him?”
I nodded, hoping to avoid too much conversation. Just because my voice would sound like Lily’s didn’t mean I knew what to say—especially to her own mother.
“I knew that colour would suit you. You should wear it more often.” She herself was in silver. It seemed to be a favourite of hers—probably because it was one of the house colours of Summer. And, of course, the other was blue, which I wore. Not very subtle of her, even though Summer’s blue was a lighter shade. “Are you ready?”
“Yes. More than ready.” I’d been here for hours, and night had fallen outside the windows while the maids worked on the elaborate hairstyle. The pins were already giving me a headache.
Impatience must have shown in my tone. “Not much longer to wait, darling,” she said with an indulgent smile. “We have to get through your father’s stupid ceremony for Illusion first, and then you will be betrothed.”
The ceremony. If only the princess wasn’t required to be present. Morwenna must be having a fit by now, wondering where I was. I was supposed to be there with the councillors when Arlo made its big entrance.
I followed the queen through the Hall and outside, into the grassy meadow that stood before it. There we joined the king, who was waiting with the Lord of Autumn and two of his knights. My gaze went instinctively to the Hawk, standing between the Lion and the Wolf, but I looked away hurriedly. The princess had no interest in her father’s knights.
Eldric greeted the queen, bowing over her hand. “We’re almost ready to leave,” he told her. “Just waiting for—ah, here they are.”
Lord Kellith and his wife and son joined the party.
“You look beautiful, Lily,” Kellith said, raising my hand to his lips. “Merritt is truly fortunate.” It was all I could do not to shudder as his lips brushed my skin. “I see you wear his flowers. An auspicious occasion for both our houses.”
The king ignored him, which amused me, merely signalling to Kyrrim, who drew his sword and created a wide gateway in the air with it. The king offered his arm to Queen Ceinwen, and they stepped through the gate and disappeared into the mist. Kyrrim, the Lion, and the Wolf followed on their heels, ever vigilant.
“Shall we, my dear?” Kellith offered his arm to his lady, and they followed in the king and queen’s footsteps. My knowledge of court protocol was limited, but I suspected that I, as the princess, should have gone next. Kellith really was getting too big for his boots.
Merritt bowed in front of me, extending his arm in silent invitation. I hadn’t yet heard him speak. You’d think he could make some kind of effort, considering we were supposed to be spending the rest of eternity together. Strong and silent or just not that interested?
Well, soon the point would be moot. I laid my hand lightly on his arm and we walked through the gate, followed by Lord Eldric and several other notables who’d been waiting with the king’s group.
Kyrrim waited on the other side, and he bowed to me, though anger smouldered in the depths of his tawny gaze at the sight of my hand on Merritt’s arm. I averted my gaze. The contrast between him and Merritt was so great. As quickly as I could, I removed my hand and moved closer to the king. When the whole party had come through, Kyrrim closed the gate behind us, and for the first time, I took in our new surroundings.
We were standing on a wide road on a cleared stretch of land, though the forest began again twenty paces or so on either side of the road. Ahead, the road dipped down to a shallow ford that crossed a wide river. To the right of the ford, the water quickly became deep again and the river opened out almost into a bay that held several small islands, hulking in the dark like crouched animals.
I drew in a sharp breath. I’d seen these before, once or twice. The cottage where I’d grown up was only a couple of hours’ walk from here. These were the islands of Illusion—the ones that were left, anyway, and all of them still bore the scars of the Night of Swords.
The biggest island, Verelho, which lay closest to the ford, held the ruins of a large castle, its walls broken off like smashed teeth, blackened and cracked by fire. A handful of rainbow drakes flitted around the ruins, their brilliant skins occasionally flashing in the dark sky above. Far overhead, half a dozen Air islands hovered. One of them must be Arlo, but they were too high up and the sky was too dark to make out details. I couldn’t tell which one it was.
On both sides of the road, long trestle tables were set up, ready for a feast, and people milled about, waiting for the event to commence. Smells of cooked meat and freshly baked bread drifted tantalisingly on the breeze. Fae lanterns bobbed in the air and festive picnic rugs were laid on the grass beside the river along with rows of chairs for the nobles. A bright canopy flapped above a small dais, and on it were three chairs of a more grandiose design, clearly meant for the royal family.
The king made his way to these chairs, and I followed. Thank goodness there were only three, so I didn’t have to sit next to Merritt. I barely knew the man, had never even exchanged a single word with him, yet I had already developed a violent dislike for him.
When the nobles had settled in their chairs and the crowds of commoners had found places on the picnic rugs, Lord Eldric cleared his throat.
“My lords and ladies, esteemed guests, welcome to Autumn—though tonight we are gathered to honour another Realm, the lost Realm of Illusion. Twenty years ago almost to the day, Illusion passed into history, and tonight we mourn that passing.” He bowed to the king. “Sire, would you care to address us?”
The king rose to his feet and stepped down from the dais. He nodded to someone at the rear of the crowd as he did so, a barely perceptible mo
vement. It was Raven, and he slipped away into the trees at the king’s signal. A moment later, a black bird winged skyward. I watched it from the corner of my eye as it rose toward the distant islands above until it was lost in the dark.
“Friends,” the king began, “we are here today to mourn the passing of a great and wonderful Realm, the Realm of the tricksters, of the shape shifters. The Realm of my dear friend Perony, may the Lady bless him and keep him.”
I glanced at Kellith, who sat in the front row with a bored expression on his face, and rage filled my heart. The king continued on, lamenting the loss of his friend’s Realm and all its people, and reminiscing about the good times he had spent there. He never said one word about the details of Illusion’s demise, but if I had been Kellith, I would have been squirming in my seat under that blue gaze.
Kellith, of course, didn’t have a conscience and appeared unaffected by it all. Merritt sat by his side, staring at the ground beneath his booted feet with obvious indifference. The only member of the family who seemed to be paying any attention to the king was Lady Brona, Kellith’s wife. At least her manners were better than those of her menfolk, whatever her morals.
The canopy above me obscured part of the sky from my view, but soon, I saw a patch of darkness begin to cover the gathered throng, growing larger and larger every moment. People began to look up and whisper to one another. The king continued to speak, but now hardly anyone was paying much attention, their gaze caught by the approaching island. Eventually, it moved past the canopy, and I could clearly see that it was Arlo, hovering low and moving with some speed along the course of the river.
I glanced at Kellith and knew the minute that he realised the island’s identity. His face drained of colour and he shot a quick, furious glance at the king. If looks could kill, Rothbold’s life would have ended in that moment, and I flinched, suddenly wishing I had thought to bring a weapon with me.
I caught Kyrrim’s eye; he had also been watching Kellith, and he gave me a reassuring nod. No need for weapons with the Hawk on guard. I relaxed, secure in the knowledge that he had the king’s back.
Changeling Illusion (Thirteen Realms Book 3) Page 20
