I brushed my hands together and pushed my nose into the air. “Edwin, it’s nice to see you, but if you could please excuse us we have important matters that need to be addressed right away. I’m sure you understand.”
“Of course.” He bent his left knee and made a dramatic bow, sweeping an arm out in front of him. “I’m glad to see that you are taking your role so seriously. I’ll show myself out.”
He paraded past, his stare full of fire and holding tight to my face until he had to let go to close the door behind him. I exhaled, the air lighter again, then returned to my seat at the table.
“Now, how exactly do you propose we remove Edwin from the castle without incident?”
Lord Anwar looked over his notes, then at his two cohorts and then down again. “We discussed the issue while you were away and we’ve decided that maybe we need to hold off making any rash actions while there isn’t a king in place.”
I fell back in my seat, the weight of what I needed to do pressing me down. The relief of having Edwin gone fluttering away. “Okay then. I’ll go through with the coronation, assume the crown, and then we can get rid of Edwin.”
“I’m sorry, my prince,” Lord Marchand continued. “I don’t think you quite understand. We’ve decided not to do anything right now. No coronation. No hasty decisions. Besides, isn’t that what you said you wanted when you came in here? To hold off until your father returns to power?”
“Yes, I did, but don’t you think Edwin is a threat?”
“Or maybe he’s the experienced hand you need to guide your rule,” Lord Covington said as he tapped the arm of my chair. His soft eyes rested on my face along with the combined stares of the rest of the Council. Pity stares.
The three of them rose from their chairs, in sync like cavalry. The meeting now over.
Lord Covington glanced at me again before heading toward the door. “Give Edwin a chance and see if he can’t help make a difference. He may surprise you.”
I stared at the ceiling as I lay awake and waited for the night noises of the castle to fall away. Today's encounters with Edwin seemed stranger and stranger, or maybe I did have him all wrong after all. He'd swooped in and managed to win over the staff, the Council, and even Griswold after his stern warning about the potential threat Edwin presented to the kingdom. Maybe the problem just rested with me. My own ego getting in the way, or maybe just frustration over the fact that he'd promised to help my father and it had yet to be done.
But I still had the diaries. Who knew what kind of secrets those may still hold? Edwin had exploded when he knew I'd read one, but was that just invasion of his privacy or something more? How could everyone change their opinion of him so quickly, when his obnoxious behavior nagged at me? Pulled me as if tied by invisible strings. Didn’t they see it, or did I make it all up in my own head? This was it. If the diaries didn’t have anything incriminating, I’d have to admit I was wrong and finally accept his help.
I crept from my bed and slid into the empty hallway, my bare feet moving silently across the stone floor. Dark shadows lingered in the corners and the portraits of past kings and queens of Aboria seemed to stare as I moved past.
My blood pumped fast in my temples, the sound echoing in my head and hopefully not for anyone else to hear. I looked left then right, then sprinted for the staircase.
"Couldn't sleep, Your Highness?"
I stopped on the first stair and grabbed the railing to keep from toppling over.
"Good evening Edwin. Yes, I’ve been feeling a bit off lately. But I'm sure I could ask you the same question since you’re wandering about just before midnight."
I straightened myself and casually stepped toward him as he entered the hall from the opposite end.
"I'm not a very good sleeper. Clarity of the mind can sometimes be a lonely and terrifying place."
"I see." Except, I didn't. His lurking about the castle irked me. "I was just hungry."
Edwin laughed. "Your hunger must be ravishing since the kitchen is the other way."
Not again. If he could just stay out of my business I wouldn't need to lie. Clearly, I wasn't very good at it.
"I know. I heard a noise and decided to investigate. I must've heard you coming down the hall."
He nodded as his left eyebrow shot toward the ceiling. "Possibly. And I'm feeling a bit peckish myself, mind if I join you?"
Yes. "Not at all."
"Excellent."
I tried not to grumble as we walked back the way I'd already come toward the kitchen. So much for getting to the library. Did this man really never sleep or was it his personal mission to keep his eye on me at all times? Maybe someone was spying on me in my chambers.
The kitchen stood pitch black in the night. No windows or outside doors were in this room to let any of the natural moonlight in. I fumbled near the door but managed to light a lantern and lead us in deeper as the flame began to grow.
"Craving anything in particular, Your Highness?" Edwin puttered around investigating every shelf and counter he could reach, popping anything small or loose into his mouth. Grapes, nuts, small pieces of cheese, whatever might be around. A scavenger, like a raven hopping around the kitchen.
"Not particularly. Just a little something to put me back to sleep."
Edwin leaned against the counter and held palm out in front of him. A path of blue smoke emanated from his hand. "If it’s sleep you need, I have other ways to help with that."
I jerked back nearly dropping the lantern in my awkward retreat. "No thank you. I'm sure some fruit will be fine."
Edwin closed his fist and the smoke disappeared. "Suit yourself. However, if you ever need you can always ask."
I crept slowly to the table in the middle of the room and pulled back the stool, keeping my eyes on Edwin. He gathered up apples and some pears then rolled them out onto the table in front of me. I reached for an apple but Edwin snatched it from my grip as he pulled a large knife from the counter. "Allow me. You've been more than kind with your hospitality. It’s only fitting that a king be served."
He sliced the apple into quarters, working with the precision of a professional with the sharp blade, then offered them back to me.
I cleared my throat, a sudden dryness itching at my vocal cords. "Thank you."
Edwin chopped himself a pear and pulled a stool across from me. For a moment we sat quiet, the snap of bites and grind of chewing the only noises between us. I settled on my stool and enjoyed the calm rhythm of the lull. A rare instance of silence in an otherwise cacophonic week.
Once the pear and apple disappeared, Edwin chopped the remaining fruit and arranged the pieces into concentric circles on the table. He stared at me as he ran the side of his forefinger down the side of the blade collecting the juice, then licked it off his finger. I swallowed in time with him, but for different reasons, one foot already flexed and ready on the floor. Finally, he rested the knife on the tabletop and my muscles relaxed.
"Your father always used to sneak into the kitchen late at night too, you know? An insatiable appetite, that man."
I grabbed a piece of apple and took a large chomp. "Really? I’ve never seen that."
"Maybe he stopped. People change. Or maybe he's more stealthy than you?” Edwin flashed a mischievous smile.
I cringed. “Maybe.”
His eyes rolled toward the ceiling, glassy in the lantern light. “I have so many memories sitting around this table. Nights we talked for hours about anything and everything. About the pressure of the crown. About beautiful women and far off places. About his visions for the future of the kingdom. So many grand plans.”
“Like what?”
“Nothing important. We’re both in different places now. Grown up and moved past boyish dreams.” He shook his head and the haze of nostalgia floated out of his expression. “Do you have mates that you rely on?”
“I used to. But I don’t think so anymore.”
“That’s unfortunate. It’s a tough road you’re walking,
it helps to have people on your side.”
I dug my fingernail underneath the apple skin and peeled it away from the crisp, white flesh.
Edwin leaned further across the table and lowered his voice as if someone might hear in this late hour. “Don’t you have anyone you can rely on? Outside the castle, that is.”
I shook my head, then pictured Kalmin. I missed him but thinking of him stung a deep pain through my body. It kind of felt like a knife in the back. “Not really. As soon as my father fell under the curse again, my friends didn’t want anything to do with me. Turns out when I’m the Party Prince, I’m everyone’s best friend, but as soon as things turn rough they disappear.”
“It happens. Just remember to be thankful for what you have. Your world can change quickly and without your consent, and just because it happened once doesn’t mean it won’t happen again. In the end, you need to look out for yourself and you’d be wise to keep your circle small and closed.”
“Thanks.” I took another bite and concentrated on the tart juice as it washed down my throat. My circle couldn’t get any smaller. Other than Veda, this was the most meaningful conversation I’d had in forever. Veda. Her face flashed in my mind. Where was she?
I polished off the last of the apple and my jaw stretched into a deep yawn. “I think the food is starting to set in. I’m going to head off to bed.”
“No problem. I’ll clean up.”
I nodded and slid off my stool.
“Wait, one more thing.” Edwin met me at the door before I could turn the handle. He placed his hand on my shoulder and locked his stare with mine. “You should let me get more involved in the running of the kingdom, save you the stress.”
I tapped his hand then removed it and let it drop back down by his side. “I’ll think about it.”
Pulling open the door, Edwin kept his eyes on me watching as I headed back toward my chambers but further away from the library, and potentially the truth.
5
7th June
"Make me a servant."
I gripped the sides of my dresser. The tingling started in my hands and flowed up toward my face. Crystal blue eyes and dark wavy hair. Short in the front, at least that was a relief, but longer in the back tied with a leather strap at the neck. A thin white scar jut through my new right eyebrow. The face looked sort of familiar, but not entirely. Was this face even based on a real person or just a combination of several of the servants in the castle? Once things calmed down, I needed to do some more experimenting to figure out exactly this power could do.
Late-night missions didn't end well with Edwin patrolling the halls and pre-dawn probably had the same luck. Time for a new plan. Instead, of trying to sneak up to the library unnoticed, I'd go during the busiest part of the day and just hope that no one cared.
I peeked out the door and slid into the hallway casually walking through the maze of corridors. I concentrated on my feet. Would this person walk just like me? Or maybe they would have a swagger, a bit of attitude that people would notice? So many things I still needed to uncover.
I quickly made my way to the east staircase. Many of the other servants were busy scrubbing floors, dusting, or moving items from one room to another. Edwin had kept everyone hopping with a list of chores longer than the West Mosa river. But busy people were distracted people.
I took the steps two at a time until I reached the top, waving at everyone as I passed and smiling at them. At the top and to the right of the staircase, Edwin addressed one of the guards, his face red and showing his temper. They couldn't already be looking for me. I’d barely been gone ten whole minutes. I walked down the hall and slipped behind the guard. Neither of the men even noticed as I continued on down the hallway. Success. Finally. I hurried the rest of the way, not wanting to risk my luck when I was so close to my goal. I double-checked behind me again and disappeared behind the library door.
"Make me myself again," I whispered in the dark.
I grabbed the thick trunk from the corner and slid it across the door. It wouldn't hold a strong guard for long, but it might be enough to hide the journals or hide in the secret passageway before someone made it through. Inside the trunk still sat my cloak and bag, except they'd clearly been rummaged through, the bag I'd left tucked in the corner now across the top with all the pockets pulled out.
I grabbed the lantern and slid it underneath the desk, without lighting it. The skylight would be enough for a while, but if this took too long I’d need it later and I couldn’t chance the glow under the library door.
After one last check of the room, as if maybe someone or something could be hiding in the corner, I reached behind the picture books and sighed with relief when my fingers grazed the aged leather diaries in the back. The three books weighed like bricks in my hands. This may be my last chance to find the truth, whether it be about Edwin or my own prejudices. No wonder my mother obsessed about her books--they held powers even a wizard couldn’t defeat.
I laid the books in a line across the desktop and sat down in my mother's chair. The velvety upholstery slid soft against my arms, immediately stirring up images of late nights curled in my mother's lap listening to her angelic voice tell me tales of pirates and knights and lands beyond my imagination. A sudden ache to hear her voice again spread through my chest. I allowed myself to wallow in the feeling for a few brief moments, then cleared my tightening throat. I had work to do.
I flipped through the middle diary, the one I had read over and over that night in Veda’s cottage. The story stayed the same, a ferocious beast, a kidnapped girl, and a mysterious baby boy on the doorstep. I followed each line and analyzed every word as if somehow the story had changed since the last time I read it. With context, however, the story filled in with color. The harsh brutal encounters with my father and an unknown disdain for my mother. Edwin clearly didn't like having her in the castle, whether due to the circumstances of her supposed kidnapping, or maybe something else, but I would've expected more sympathy for a prisoner.
I closed the book and rested my hands on the cover. My fingertips picked at the edges of the pages while my mind drifted and tried to piece together what I knew, what I'd read, and what I thought I knew. A lot of the story linked with my mother’s, but something still felt unsaid.
The diary to the left predated the other two and started back to just before the curse. Lines and lines of my father and Edwin's exploits filled the pages. Late nights at the tavern, pointless duels with civilians for sport, lists of women that came and went. A roster of names eclipsing my own experience. But underneath the stories, a common theme arose. An emotion laid bare in script. Edwin, my father's closest companion, needed him. His long flowing monologues describing how handsome my father was, how gifted, how charming, and how spoiled. Edwin wanted to be just like him but resented him for it in equal measure. My father was Edwin’s best friend and his worst enemy.
Midway through the diary, the story began to change. My father's father, the king, fell ill and his condition worsened. As my grandfather slowly passed on, my father took on more responsibility in the castle. He struggled between his playboy lifestyle and taking on the responsibility of the crown. On a night in cold January, Edwin wrote:
I've had it. Ezra treats this kingdom like his own personal playground. His vain and womanizing ways have to change or we are all doomed. He simply takes as he pleases and I can't stand by and watch anymore. Samara was the last straw. Watching her tangled in his arms gut me like a fish, my insides torn apart and strewn along the coast. I loved her. He knew I loved her, yet he didn't think twice before taking her for himself.
He doesn't deserve this life. Just because his father was born first doesn't make him a better ruler. My father would have made the better king. He's always been the better man. Then even more insulting, the awful tyrant passed his turncoat ways to my despicable cousin and now he's not only taken the crown but what's left of my bleeding heart.
The throne should be mine and Samara should be a
t my side as my queen. Ezra is unfit to rule Aboria. I just need to prove it.
A chill coursed through me. His cousin? Does that mean…was Edwin a prince of the blood? If his father was my grandfather's brother, that meant he would have been in line for the throne behind my father. Could he really be my uncle? The familiarity when we first met. Maybe it wasn’t in my head. Maybe he reminded me of my father more than I realized. Maybe they were family.
I continued flipping pages reading how Edwin's anger and contempt for my father grew. The lady, Samara, didn't last long in my father's orbit, and that seemed to make Edwin's anger grow as she rejected him for my father's mistakes. The writing itself changed. Letters sharper, tees crossed with deep slashes that cut through the paper. And symbols, ones like I had never seen drawn in the margins. Circles and stars and ancient-looking drawings, maybe runic or some other foreign alphabet.
I shifted in the chair and leaned closer to the book, Edwin's anger grew paragraph by paragraph, page by page. It drew me in, like a fabricated tale from a fictional land. The evil wizard descending into rage and madness.
And as Edwin's frustration with my father increased, it changed his magic. Darker and harder to control, nearly killing a servant at its peak by magically tossing him off the castle tower. According to the story, my father fought with him often about what it would mean if the kingdom found out about his powers, until one hot July morning.
I don’t know how much longer I can control it. Every day Ezra grows more suspicious of me. More intent on keeping me close and under his watchful eye. He sends guards to follow me around the city. I’ve seen them, skulking in the alleyways, thinking I don’t notice them there. But I do. I always do.
But last night he crossed a line. He stumbled home late, after the rest of the castle was long asleep, and found me in the courtyard practicing my craft. He called me a monster. An abomination. A danger to myself and the rest of ‘his’ kingdom. My dear cousin has no concept of how powerful my magic has become. How adept and capable I’m getting each day. Why doesn’t he understand that the kingdom should’ve been mine?
Fallon: Son of Beauty and the Beast (Kingdom of Fairytales Boxset Book 6) Page 22
