by Kris Black
“Has the queen returned?”
“No, not as of yet.” Ella replied and Alina thanked the gods for small mercies.
She wished for an excuse to get out of it. To just recover in her bedroom and to pull the mirror out and spend as much time as she wanted speaking with Christian.
Alina let her mind flicker to Christian. She had passed all of her free time either trying to find a way to reach the faeries or in the garden to keep her mind off of him. Off home. To stop trying to imagine what happened to Charles and have her mind running wild with theories that did not do to dwell on. But she suddenly wished Christian were here with her. He would know what to do, he would know what to say and how to help her.
Her hand itched to grasp the mirror. She wondered, not for the first time, if he were looking at her in his enchanted mirror. If he was missing her half as much as she missed him.
If he were keeping his temper in check around the rest of his subjects.
She knew that he wouldn’t be lying around in bed, withering away from courtiers. Alina’s body screamed in protest as she pulled herself up and heaved her legs over the side. The remnants of Finley’s energy had left her in the night. Now, she was left with the aches and pains of almost depleting her magic and having suffered some magical stigma.
“Perhaps a warm bath first?” Alina asked, hoping it would soothe her worn muscles.
“I couldn’t agree more. I’ll have one drawn up immediately.”
The bath, and another strong dose of tea, had Alina was halfway well again, at least for a little while. She sat at her mirror while Ella did her hair in intricate braiding, making sure that a tiara was again visible.
“Court will be in the Presence Chamber,” Ella was explaining as she finished. “It should last three, maybe four, hours at most. It is mainly for the sovereign to hear requests, settle disputes and to hear about any incidents occurring in the kingdom. While he does this, the courtiers attend him. And by that, I mean we stand around and gossip and conspire. You’ve really been lucky to not have to go, to be honest.”
Alina only nodded as Ella fed her information. Ella lay a gown out for her behind her changing screen and Alina slipped into it. With help, they laced her up in a matter of minutes. It, like the rest of the gowns provided, was gorgeous. It was a pale, blush pink with intricate lacing over the bodice. The skirting fell to the floor in a slim waterfall.
“Are we ready?” Ella asked when Alina stepped out from behind the wall.
“As ready as I’ll ever be, I suppose.” Alina stepped over to her bed, remembering the mirror she had safely hidden in her pillowcase. “Could you get me some water first?”
“Of course.” Ella turned toward the water jug as Alina slipped the mirror from her bed and into the pocket hidden in the folds of her dress.
“Just remember, if you don’t know the answer to just nod and take a large sip of wine,” Ella said as she handed Alina her glass of water.
The Presence Chamber was a large room, just as large as the throne room, but on the other side of the hall. The rooms almost a mirror of each other. Her father’s throne raised on the dais was less ostentatious than the throne room. There were also chairs and benches scattered throughout the chamber for the court to lounge on. Courtiers filled the room already, with people splitting into smaller groups and more than a few occupying the seats.
Her father, King Belmont, sat on his smaller throne. He wasn’t wearing the large crown from the night they met, but a smaller coronet that looked far more comfortable. Alina remembered the loud thud it made when Belmont had tossed the priceless crown on the table. It had to have weighed at least twenty pounds.
“Now presenting Lady Ella and Her Royal Highness the Princess Alina, Crowned Princess of Lormount.”
Everyone stood, other than Belmont, and bowed or curtseyed. Alina noticed, for the first time, that her siblings were among the crowd. All save for Abigail.
Of course. Her sisters would never pass on the opportunity to attend court.
Once Alina stepped into the room, everyone went back to how they were before they announced her. Her father smiled at her from his seat, coronet glittering in the sun. She curtseyed low to him and smiled on the way back up. He looked tired, and she didn’t want to add to his worries by accosting him with the fact he hadn’t given her warning for this charade. She also was steadfast in not telling him about the recent issues she had been having with the pains that wracked her body - she was sure those were supernatural and didn’t want to burden him with preternatural torture. No, King Belmont had enough to concern himself over.
Alina, instead, did as instructed and met with the nobility. She had remembered everyone’s names and titles she had studied and, as far as she was aware, had stuck to the firmly laid out politeness and hierarchical rule book. At least, Ella had stayed near to her and didn’t need to help fill in often, but Alina had gone through over a few goblets of wine. Nevertheless, she had met with much scorn and consternation from the nobles - even with her father sitting there in front of them. She understood - a lot of these people had stood to have a chance at the throne had Belmont died without a declared heir. She had, to them, all but stolen the crown off their heads.
Despite the callousness of the courtiers, Alina had enjoyed her time at court. Listening to Belmont receive news from other kingdoms, listening to complaints of subjects and solving disputes proved to her exactly what kind of king he was. He seemed to be fair and just and kind. Her heart warmed to him even more. It made her truly wonder what had happened all those years ago that started the war that had ended with the curse.
But she was still aching from the evening previous, even with the help of the bath and the teas. She was dreading the nightfall. She was dreading the next minute. What would happen if she had a sudden attack of imaginary pain during court? In front of the courtiers, her family… her father? She would have no control over it. Would they think she was unfit to rule?
Did she want to rule?
Alina tucked that thought away carefully. She was engaged to Christian. They were mates. Whether or not she liked it, whether she ascended the throne, she would rule.
As the hours wore on, the aches worsened until Alina had to sit, hardly able to stand. Her mood wore thin as the pain increased until she even caught herself snapping at Ella.
After the king dismissed the court, there was a mandatory dinner required for her to attend. Her father had retired, which made her envious and more than a little irritated. If the king managed to leave after court, why did the princess have to stay?
Alina managed through the whole dinner. The food, as always, was delicious. The company… well, they left much to be desired. Bickering and gossiping the whole time, she heard snippets of conversations here and there. Planning and scheming and backstabbing seemed to be the rules at court, like a war within the walls of the castle. A war with words, reputations, and slander instead of swords, shields, and arrows. She ate through the aches and ground her teeth to keep her mouth shut.
She glanced down the table at her sisters, each one flirting with a man next to her. Hoping to marry into the nobility through their connection to her.
When dinner had finished, Alina had lost count of the amount of wine she consumed throughout the day. It had been enough to dull the ache of her body and wish for more company - pleasant company as she staggered to the greenhouse.
Alina was certain it hadn’t been enough to truly intoxicate her. However, she did find herself having to blink more frequently to help keep the surrounding corridors in focus as she ping-ponged between the walls like a ball on the tennis court.
“Mercy, Your Highness,” Brigit said as Alina grabbed her apron from the shed. “Did you leave any wine in the cellar for the rest of the castle?”
Alina giggled at the thought of herself laying in the wine cellar, drinking bottle after bottle. One of her guards caught her when she tripped over her own skirts on her way to the other side of the gardens, where the wi
steria and ivy danced for her. She wanted to frolic among the daffodils and tease the lilies.
“Are you all right, Your Highness?” The guard asked as he straightened her up.
“I am absolutely delighted.” She answered as she made her way to one of her favorite spots.
She had almost made it there before being intercepted by the Duke of Northurst. “Good evening, Your Highness.” He bowed.
“Your Grace.” Alina greeted, instantly stopping up.
“I was wondering if I could have a few moments of your time.”
Alina looked past the man who looked so much like Felix, towards the spot she had been aiming for. The night sky shone through the domed glass ceiling of the greenhouse, allowing the stars to partially illuminate the plants. Her favorite flowers were bulbs, folded up against the moonlight. They would open for her with a touch, they would sway and sing for her when she reached them.
“I suppose a few moments couldn’t hurt.” She replied to the duke, hoping that if she let him say his peace that he’d leave her alone and let her get back to it.
The duke ushered her to sit on one of the stone half-walls near the glass wall of the greenhouse. She was a little wobbly, so she straightened her skirts and sat as graceful as a gazelle. Well, other than almost missing the wall entirely. But that didn’t count.
“Your Highness, I would like to take this time to truly speak with you about how much Northurst has to give and aid the kingdom.” The duke remained standing. “As you know, we guard the northern border from the country of Welby.”
“With which we have a truce.” Alina supplied.
“We do at the moment.” The duke continued. “But how long will that truce last? When you are queen, the current one will no longer be on the throne. Who is to say that, then they will not decide that they favor our land?”
“Please, just get to the point. I have things to do.” Alina waved her hand, glancing at the pretty posies she’d rather be playing with.
The duke looked flabbergasted that she had the gall to interrupt him. Puffing up like a bird, he continued. “During my time here, I have garnered support for my cause. For the cause of putting my son, the Viscount Farley, on the throne.”
“I’m sorry?” Alina looked away from the flowers and up the man whose face was now red with anger. She stood. “What did you just say?”
“The people love Felix. The court loves Felix. He knows them, he has been with them. Everyone always meant him to be the next king.” He paused. “He is one of them.”
“And I am not?” Alina asked, her nose flaring in anger.
“No, you are not.” The duke hushed his voice so that the guards could no longer hear. “You may have been born in this castle, but you were not raised here. They raised you in a tiny little border town barely in Lormount at all. You are barely Lourmountian. You’re barely human.”
Alina clenched her fists, her jaw tightening. Around her, the energy thrummed. The plants and fauna sang out a chorus louder and louder.
Barely human? She could show him barely human with a few flicks of her fingers.
“And does my father know of this plan?” Alina asked. She looked towards her guards, each one stationed close enough to leap if something were to happen but not enough to listen in on their conversation.
“The king need not know, because you will marry Felix and make him the legitimate king.” The duke growled.
“Will I, now?” Alina snarled. “And who will make me do that?”
“I will. If you do not, I will destroy your family. The Everstons live on trade. I know a few people who sink ships for a living.” The duke said. “I will destroy the ships, salt your father’s fields and tarnish your sisters’ reputations. Even being the crown princess of the realm won’t save them from the fury I will bring down on them.”
Anger like she had never known flooded through her body.
How dare he?
How dare he threaten her family, insult her and tell her whom she would marry? He was no one! She was the Crown Princess of Lormount. She was a faerie princess.
Her anger exploded within her, drawing on the nearby plant life.
The energy built and built and built. The influx was so great that Alina clenched her fists to hold it in, to keep it at bay. But she was a well and the power was overflowing until she no longer felt herself, until she was nothing but nature and pure power crying out to escape. When she could dam back the energy no longer, Alina exploded. Every plant, flower, shrub, and tree had loaned her their energy, and she screamed.
Swifter than lightning, plants struck. Vines, leaves, branches, and dirt all whirled in the air. The duke reached for her, before all her guards tackled him. In doing so, one knocked her into the stone retaining wall. A shot of pain shot through her as she looked down to see the crimson blood pooling and making a path down her forearm. She had been nicked by a pair of pruning shears that had been left precariously in the mulsh.
Alina couldn’t process what was happening, until the cut started burning, swelling and welting like an infected would. She screamed again at the anguish. She grasped her arm, applying pressure to ease the scorching wound. In a moment, her hand was painted crimson as the blood continued to flow.
The duke shouted something and one guard, she couldn’t tell which, lunged for her. A tree branch knocked him out of the way, vines encasing her in a protective shield.
She had to get out of here. She had to get out. Get out get out get out.
Something shattered to the left. One panel in the greenhouse was completely knocked out by one plant. The vines opened as Alina raced towards the exit, jumping through the broken glass and landing in a bank of snow.
Her entire body was numb, even the coldness of the frigid winter night’s air and the snow soaking the hems of her dress had no impact on her. Despite that, her whole body wracked with tremors. She wasn’t even sure it was from the cold. Lifting the damp skirts of her dress, Alina ran through the shin-deep snow in her silk slippers; her slippers and her underskirts becoming drenched with ice-cold water.
“Princess?” The voice in the darkness startled her and she let out a little shriek, turning to see Felix walking towards her. “What are you doing out here this late? You’re not even wearing a cloak. Are you all right?”
Alina was dizzy and disoriented. Maybe it was the wine, or the expulsion of so much magic, or maybe the cold. Perhaps it was all three. Her mouth was drying out a clear indicator she would have a screaming headache in the morning.
“Felix?” She asked weakly.
She must have looked as terrible as she felt because he was by her side in a blink. He pulled the cloak from his shoulders and put it on her. The residual heat enveloped her, but that couldn’t stop the shivering that seemed to take up a permanent hold over her body. Her teeth began to chatter.
He reached out his hand and cupped her cheek with his palm, using his thumb to caress just under her eyes. His hand felt like molten lava against her frigid skin. She pulled away instantly.
“You have the most beautiful smile I have ever seen,” he whispered. Her brow furrowed, and she stepped back slightly, almost losing her balance. He let his hand, now holding nothing, drop back to his side.
“What are you doing out here, Felix?”
“I discovered something in the woods and I was investigating it. It seems to be of faerie origin.” His brows furrowed.
Faerie origin.
Alina’s head was swirling as she tried to focus her eyes. There was something dangerous going on. It was strange to be outside after midnight, with only one cloak and with that strange look in Felix’s eyes.
But, there was something in the forest. Maybe something that could help her.
“Take me to see it.”
“Are you sure you’re up for it?” Felix looked at her hesitantly.
Alina could tell that something hadn’t been quite right, but her shivering had stopped. Her teeth had finally stopped clicking in her head. In fact, she
was even starting to warm up. Her whole body was like an oven. She might even take off the cloak and give it back to Felix if he would accept it, and she would be completely fine.
Maybe she should take off her dress, just so she didn’t get overheated? She was terribly warm.
“Princess? The grotto?” Felix asked again.
Grotto. Felix thought he found a faerie grotto.
Alina’s thoughts flashed to the fae male who had saved her life. Perhaps that was how he had come so suddenly. She remembered how it felt when his hand touched her face, feeding powerful magic into her. Sharing his magic with her. She looked down at her own hands, only to see that a pool of crimson snow was starting to appear at her feet. How strange. She probably shouldn’t stand in it.
Alina didn’t answer before Felix reached out once more and took her hand. Her slippery, garnet-painted hand. She couldn’t remember why she had hesitated before. Felix had done nothing to harm her. Her feet stumbled along as he half-dragged her into the forest. It was only a few yards in that the trees cleared in a circular pattern, opening up to a grove with a beautiful, clear field.
“It’s beautiful.” Alina’s breath hitched as she stumbled to the center of the grotto. A perfect circle. Maybe not faerie-made, but something magical, nonetheless. She twirled to face Felix. “This is amazing.”
It was only then that she noticed the strange look on his face and the glint of sharp steel in his hand.
Chapter Eighteen
And Blood
What are you doing?” Alina whispered, heart thudding and suddenly alarmingly sober. He took two steps forward, she stumbled three back.
He looked from Alina to the knife in his hand. Then back again. Taking a deep breath, he threw the knife towards the edge of the forest. It bounced off the solid ground and slid into the shrubbery. Alina breathed a sigh of relief.
The thought of that knife made her arm throb. She looked down to see it coated in crimson now like she had dipped it into a bucket of paint. Her thoughts were still hazy, and her head throbbed. Something had happened to her arm. The duke had been there, right?
