Shadows on Snow: A Flipped Fairy Tale (Flipped Fairy Tales) (7 page)

“I shall try.”

I doused the fire, succumbing to slumber in moments.

Three nights passed before I returned to the secret room again. It took longer than my sisters thought to assemble words that might find the useful entry in the Dinnish book of the king’s. They sent a small bundle consisting of a tiny parchment and an impression crystal, which I stashed away with my bow and quiver. The parchment contained a list of ten things to search for, which I memorized and promptly burned.

Another impediment to my progress was in having to wait for the man to leave his evil workshop. To say “evil” was not an exaggeration. What little Dinnish I was able to translate in the book chilled my blood. As such, I couldn’t risk entry if there was a chance he was inside. For three more nights I waited, dozing in the cold December darkness, and he did not emerge.

Unable to trust my faculties from lack of sleep, I took a night for myself. Finally, the next night, I caught the king leaving and could put myself to work in earnest. It was a slow and painful search, and I was only able to read through a quarter of the tome that night.

Two more visits over the course of the next week, and I finally hit on a possibility. The words for “bloom,” “eternity,” and “death” appeared on the same page three-quarters of the way in. Of course, I couldn’t be sure this was the thing I sought with total surety, but it was the best I had. Taking the pink-hued crystal from my pocket, I set it against the page and whispered to it.

“Preserve what my memory will not.”

The crystal glowed from the inside, the illumination spreading out until it covered the page. The glow flared to full brightness, and I looked away until it was finished.

A sudden unease crept over me. In that instant, I knew I had to run. The wards were rigged to send the room’s occupants a warning in the form of fear.

Slamming the book closed, I rushed to the stairs and out the door, sealing it as quickly as I could before bolting further into the woods. I didn’t stop until I was well clear of the ward and concealed in the underbrush.

There, panting against the frosted ground, I realized I’d made a grave mistake.

The scrying mirror was still covered.

“Good morning, Highness,” I said as Prince Leopold found me amongst the saddles I was tasked with polishing that day. When his expression registered, I stood and brushed off my hands. “Are you unwell, Sire? You look in need of rest.”

With a tired sigh, he shook his head. “It’s not my health that concerns me, Rae. I thought I’d take a ride to clear my head a bit.”

“Certainly, Your Highness.” I stepped out from the piles of tack surrounding me, retrieving his saddle from its place on the wall.

We walked in silence back to the stalls. His brooding quiet worried me. A small part of me wished to tell him the truth, to give him hope that the situation might yet be rectified, but I knew I couldn’t risk as much in the light of day.

“Speak your mind, Sire. Perhaps it will help ease your burden. I see plainly that you’re troubled, and, though I might not have useful advice for you, I’ll listen if you’ve need of it.”

He greeted Remy with a soft pat on his nose, the horse nuzzling his palm. “While I thank you for the offer, Rae, I wouldn’t know where to begin.” He paused. “Though, I suppose you’re aware of the queen’s condition?”

“Aye, My Lord.”

“I imagine you don’t know the whole of it. The staff likely talks, but…” He took the saddle from me, slinging it across the horse’s back. “She’s very close to death. I fear she may not last the day, but I couldn’t bear another moment in that room. I’ve spent nearly every day by her side this past week, but my courage wavers. I…” The prince closed his eyes against a sheen of tears. “All the power of a kingdom behind me and I cannot save the only family I have left. It’s cowardly of me to not be with her in these moments, as each one might be her last, but I…”

Heart breaking for him, I set a hand against his arm, as inappropriate as it was for someone of my status. Still, I couldn’t bear to see him in so much pain and not reach out to him. His was a suffering I knew well.

“You’re only human, Your Highness. You mustn’t berate yourself for it. All life begins, and all life ends. It’s right that we mourn the passing of a great light, but take comfort when you can. She wouldn’t wish you to suffer. If a single ride in the open air will lift your spirits enough to carry on, she would want that for you.”

Taking the buckles from his hands, I continued to speak as I readied his horse. “I’ve never met the queen myself, as she took ill before my hiring, but I’ve heard many tales of her kindness and compassion. Wherever I’ve traveled, there were stories in the towns and villages about her. Even the soldiers spoke well of her diplomacy when it came to avoiding war. As such, I can’t imagine a woman such as her would keep you from a small moment of peace in the storm.”

I tightened the last belt and straightened, standing beside him as he frowned to himself. “This heaviness suits you ill, Sire. Were there anything I could do for you, know I would help in any way at all.”
 

When he met my gaze, I willed myself to keep breathing. A deep, lonely sadness passed from his eyes into my heart. I couldn’t share my knowledge with him. He wouldn’t be able to hide the truth from King Alder. Even so, I wished it were different.

After a moment, he broke his hold over me, giving a sad smile and a nod. “And I thank you for it,” he said. “And for your words as well. I needed them dearly today, as I likely will in the future. Are you still set against the position I offered you? It would be nice to not need an excuse to see you.”

I balked. “His Highness is free to see me here whenever he likes. Are excuses necessary?”

He chuckled a little as he set a foot in a stirrup and mounted his horse. “I suppose not, though I might be thought odd were I to spend inordinate amounts of time in the stables for no apparent purpose.”

“And why should royalty have care what others think of him?”

At this, he frowned again. “It’s not for a ruler to place himself above others,” he said. “In truth, what more does a ruler have than how he’s seen by his people?”

Feeling reprimanded in the face of such wisdom, I shrunk back a bit. “Of course, Highness. I only meant to say, what good is the opinion of others when you don’t like yourself? A miserable ruler would be a poor ruler indeed, incapable of clear, level-headed leadership. Without peace of mind, what peace can you bring to others?”

He tilted his head, weighing my words. “I suppose that much is true, though there’s a fine line between finding small respite and being selfish.”

I nodded. “Balance in all things, Sire. I wouldn’t suggest an extended trip abroad if one’s country was in the midst of war.” I handed him the reins. “But a short ride to fortify yourself during hardship isn’t selfish, so much as necessary.”

“You’re right, of course,” he said, adjusting himself in the saddle, “but you didn’t answer my question.”

“What question, Sire?”

Leaning against the pommel, he pinned me in place with a look. “You won’t reconsider my offer? There’s a place at my side if you wish it.”

Swallowing, I tore my gaze away and shook my head. “My answer is the same, Your Highness.”

He eased Remy out of the stall and towards the exit. “Then I shall continue to wait. I’ve been gifted with patience and perseverance.”

Laughing a little, I saw him out. “There’s wisdom in knowing futility. You may wait forever if it’s me you’re attempting to sway.”

Casting me a last look over his shoulder, he smiled. “We’ll see.”

With that, he set off on his ride, leaving me shaking my head and praying to the spirits that I could be as stubborn as Prince Leopold.

The smoke wafted into the air, and I huddled close to soak up the warmth of the small fire. When Delphine did not immediately appear, I scowled and tried to focus on the memory of her face, her voice, her words. After several minutes of this, she appeared at last.

“We’re working as quickly as we can, dearest one,” she said, “but I’ve nothing for you yet. We need more time.”

“There isn’t any more time,” I whispered back. “The queen may not last the night, let alone another day. This, from the mouth of the prince himself.”

“What do you mean from the prince himself?”

I paused, suddenly aware that she didn’t know of my conversations with him. “He was in the stables today. I overheard him talking.” That I wanted to hide his attempts to befriend me surprised me. It was innocent enough, but still, I thought that telling her might earn me teasing at best, uncomfortable questions at worst. We had time for neither.

“Talking to whom?”

I grinned a little. “His horse.”

“His horse?”

“Yes,” I said with a giggle. “They’re quite close.” Waving off the subject, I turned the conversation back to the important topic. “How much progress have you made? Was the page I trapped in the crystal the correct one, or must I go back into that foul crypt?”

“We’re still translating the words,” she said. “It’s a very ancient dialect that’s giving us some difficulty. If we’re not precise with the translation, we cannot replicate what was done, and thus we wouldn’t be able to counteract it.”

“I’m all for caution, but is there something we might do in the interim? Something to slow the effects at the least?”

She exhaled in a tired sigh, and I wondered if she’d slept since receiving the impression crystal. “All we know is that it’s both poison and enchantment. We cannot fight what we do not know. You must be—”

The low, hollow clanging of the palace bell brought the conversation to an immediate halt. My stomach dropped into my feet, and I covered my mouth with a hand to keep from crying out.

“What is it? What’s happened?”

I pinched back tears, but a few escaped.

“We’re too late, sister,” I said, my voice breaking. “They’re ringing the bells.”

“The bells?” she said. “Then that means…”

Slowly, I nodded. “They ring in mourning. Queen Muriel is dead.”

Few people will ever cause an entire nation to weep when they pass from the world. Queen Muriel was a beloved ruler, and each person I saw in the days following the announcement of her death had swollen, red-rimmed eyes for the tears they shed. I kept to myself, going about my tasks quietly and with more veracity than I had before.

She was gone because I failed her. I wasted too much time. Perhaps I should’ve tried to return to her chambers, to dispose of the wretched flowers. At the least, maybe it would have afforded us a few days more to find a permanent solution.

Again, I was too late to save someone from the wickedness of King Alder.

Mourners arrived en masse to the castle, tripling my duties overnight, then yet again by week’s end. There were more horses than stables to house them, and Master Grey was forced to find extra space for them or send the visitors away.

My only free moment was for the queen’s internment in the family crypt. I kept far back from the processional led by King Alder and Prince Leopold, but even at the furthest reaches of the crowd of black-clad mourners, the prince’s eyes found me for a sliver of a second. What passed between us in that tiny fraction of time left me breathless. I knew then that he would seek me out at his first opportunity. His absolute need for a friend was so clear, it was as though he’d screamed it over the gathered crowd.

My certainty of his feelings vanished as he passed into the stone entrance to the crypt, the queen’s ornately carved coffin following behind him on the shoulders of silver-armored knights.

I would have been a liar if I said to anyone that I thought him safe. The prince was heir to the throne, and would step into that place on his next birthday, but that was yet a month away. With the queen gone, King Alder would have the gentle prince in his sights. I could not save his mother, but I wouldn’t fail again.

Even if it cost me my life, I would save his.

“Are you sure that’s wise, Highness?” I asked, incredulous that he’d even consider it.

“I am. It will be my last opportunity to do so before the coronation,” Prince Leopold said.

He waited three full days before finding me, though I was sure it was being otherwise occupied that kept him, rather than lack of desire. Guests had finally begun leaving, and I’d spent the last day cleaning the excess mess from the stables. I couldn’t imagine how horribly I must’ve stunk after that, but the prince didn’t so much as pause before telling me his plans that afternoon.

I fidgeted with the shovel and brushed the sweat from my forehead. “A two-day hunting trip?”

“Yes,” he said. “And I wish you to come along to tend the horses.”

Frowning, I couldn’t hide my anxiety. “Master Grey won’t care for that, Sire. And I don’t like the thought of leaving these other animals to his mercy.”

“I don’t wish to order you, Rae, but I can’t tell you how desperate I am for company other than the Royal Guard. They hound me, endlessly shadowing my movements.” That same need in his eyes, a pleading for my presence, again stilled my breath with its strength. “Any companions I’ve made these past four years are all on the battlefield. I’ve been away from here for far too long. Those I knew even amongst the palace staff have dwindled to but a handful. Will you not grant me this request?”

Unable to stop myself, I relented. “If that’s what His Highness requires, I shall provide it. If it will ease your burden, then, yes, I’ll oblige.”

When he smiled, it was as though the sun returned after a month’s absence, stunning me with its brilliance.

“Thank you, Rae,” he said, clasping my shoulder. He might as well have called down lightning to strike me for as shocked as I was at the contact. He removed his hand quickly, retreating back through the stable. “We leave at first light. I’ll pass word to Master Grey,” he called back to me.

Shaking a little, I tried to recover my wits. What must it be like to have such a startling effect on others? Any time the man touched me, my entire body lit up like a great bonfire was ablaze in my belly.

I returned to shoveling out the stall, replaying our conversation over and over in my head. I tried to think of some way I might’ve persuaded him against this expedition, some words that could convince him to remain at the palace, but, instead, my worry deepened.