Shadows on Snow: A Flipped Fairy Tale (Flipped Fairy Tales) (9 page)

He shook his head. “I spared his life. I looked him in the eye and asked if he honestly believed me responsible for…” He swallowed. “The man threw himself at my feet and begged my forgiveness. He means to tell the king I’m dead and will present proof.”

A foul taste filled my mouth. “What proof, Highness?”

Looking away, he shrugged. “He wouldn’t tell me.”

Though we both suspected what might come to pass, neither of us voiced our thoughts.

“We must go,” I said, handing him one of the guard’s sleeping bundles.

“Go where?”

Now there was a question. Really, there was only one place we could go. Nowhere else would be safe for him.

As he took the bundle, I decided.

“We’re going to see my sisters, Your Highness, and it’s a very long walk.”

It took the better part of an hour for him to emerge from the shock of the afternoon.

“I need to tell you,” Prince Leopold began as we followed the deer run through the forest, “thank you for what you’ve done for me today. You saved my life.”

I glanced at him and nodded, continuing to scan the trees and the sky. “No thanks are needed, Your Highness.”

“I strongly disagree. I’m in your debt, Rae.” He stepped over a fallen tree. “But might I ask one favor of you?”

Curious, I stopped and turned to him, wondering what he would ask in addition to me saving his life. “Of course, Sire.”

Frowning a little, he urged me onwards. “I’d very much like if you stopped the formalities. As we’re considered outlaws as of now, it’s probably best if you not refer to me by title.”

It was a valid point. “And what would you prefer I call you then?”

“Leo will do well, I think. That was what my mother always called me.”

“Leopold was your father’s name as well. I’ve always wondered, wasn’t that confusing for you?”

He shrugged. “He was always Leopold, never anything shorter. I loved him dearly, but he wasn’t a man given to whimsy.”

I laughed. “Whimsy? Would you describe yourself with such a word?”

Clasping his hands behind his back, he turned his face to the sky, watching a hawk circle far above. “Perhaps in comparison to him. Do you not think me whimsical?”

I choked back a snort. “A whimsical prince? Well, not as such, but light-hearted is probably an apt descriptor, Sire.”

“Leo,” he corrected.

I sighed. “I think this will take some getting used to.”

He slapped me on the back, and I nearly tripped at the contact. “You seem an adaptable sort, Rae. I doubt you’ll have much trouble with it.”

“You think suddenly referring to a crown prince by a nickname an easy feat?” I chuckled. “It might take me a month or more to stop cringing in expectation of the lash.”

His expression darkened. “Whips are foul things. I would never condone their use on animals, much less men.” He waved it off. “But let’s speak of other things. You say we’re headed for your sisters? I thought you told me your family were travelers?”

I winced. “I may have stepped around the truth a bit, High—” I stopped myself. “That is to say…” The story was so long, I wasn’t at all sure where to begin.

“A lie?” he offered, ever helpful.

“More like…” I thought for a moment. “More like omitting a few details you didn’t ask for. When I said I traveled with family before taking the job at the palace, it wasn’t a lie. My sisters and I were forced to flee our home ten years ago. It was only recently that we found a place to settle. That was two years past, though, honestly, I haven’t lived there myself but in fits and starts. There were things to do, and I was the only one who could do them.”

“What things?”

Hesitating, this story would ultimately force me to reveal my true face, but I wanted to hold on to my armor for as long as I could. I didn’t know what he would do when he saw me then.

“We’ve kept our eyes on your stepfather in as much as we’ve been able without revealing ourselves. If he knew we were still living…” I shivered, and my shoulders slumped. “When we learned of his marriage to your mother, we decided to act. We wanted to prevent you from sharing in our fate.”

My steps slowed to a crawl as I shuffled through the leaves. “I was too slow, Highness. I couldn’t save your mother any more than I could save my own. I will never be able to forgive myself for that.”

“Then…” The prince stopped on the trail. “He was responsible for her passing?”

I nodded, unable to look at him. “I couldn’t get near enough to her in time. The flowers, Sire. They were poison of some kind. My sisters are still trying to work it out, but now…” Guilt washed over me, threatening tears. “I’m so sorry, Highness. It’s my fault she’s gone.”

In a single step he was before me and tilted my chin up to meet his gaze. “It wasn’t your fault, Rae. I blame the villain who did this, not those unable to stop him in time. I harbor no hardness in my heart against you.”

My face burned at the way his eyes bored into mine, so sincere, so compassionate.

“But, Rae?”

I blinked back tears. “Sire?”

“It’s Leo. Not Your Highness, not Sire, not My Lord, and definitely not Your Majesty. I’ll not have my friend and closest ally address me as anything but an equal. Is that clear?”

Nodding, I pulled away, severing the warmth brought on by his touch. Continuing our trek, I looked into the cold, gray sky and frowned. “It’s getting late, and we may be in for some snow. We’ll need to find some place to camp for the night.”

Glad for the distraction, the conversation turned to possible shelters from whatever the weather would bring. When at last we found a dense clump of trees, it was nearly nightfall. Seven large oaks grew in a haphazard circle, their branches turned inward, so thick they wove into a loose roof above us. We dared not risk a fire in the dark, however, lest the king’s men pursued us.

“We’ll be warmer if we keep close,” he said as he spread his blankets on the ground near the base of one of the trees.

“I’ve survived colder than this on my own,” I said, quick to avoid close contact with him. “I’m not concerned.”

I unrolled my own pallet by the tree beside him, keeping my distance.

“Don’t be foolish,” he said, bending and pulling my meager blankets up beside his. “You’ve not more than threadbare rags to keep you warm. Besides, I’ve seen my fair share of winter nights without the heat of a campfire. Every soldier knows that close quarters is far preferable to freezing to death.”

I frowned, but held my tongue. Were I to protest overmuch, he would easily guess there was more to my hesitation than a matter of rank.

We ate a small meal of fruit and dried meat before settling in for the night. Darkness fell heavy on the forest, and with it, the first few flakes of snow.

“I’ll take first watch,” I said, arranging myself into a more comfortable position. “I’ll wake you when I need to rest.”

“No more than three hours, Rae,” he said. “I’m not above ordering you if you insist on being stubborn and refusing sleep.”

I smirked at him. “What happened to the equal footing you spoke of?”

He laid back on his pallet, pulling his wool blanket up to his chin. “Friendship is knowing when to relent as well as when to argue. If we’re equal, then you’ll let me do my share. I’m not some fragile princess, after all.”

Bristling a bit at his comment, I held my tongue. “Sleep now. You’ll need your rest for the journey tomorrow. We’ve at least another day and a half of walking to go.”

He yawned. “Then I’ll see you in a few hours. Good night, Rae.”

When I looked over my shoulder to wish him the same, I smiled. He was already asleep.

“Good night…” I paused. “Leo.”

I slept so soundly, so thoroughly warm, that it took a cacophony of birds to wake me. But as conscious thought returned, immediate panic overtook me.

“Good morning,” his voice rumbled in his chest, vibrating against my cheek.

A surge of fear gripped my heart, and I jerked, attempting to pull away, but his arm wrapped around me, his strength pinning me to his side.

“I believe there are a few more details you’ve neglected to share with me.”

I swallowed, attempting to control my trembling. How the devil I ended up snuggled in beside him left me baffled. Was I so tired that I had no recollection of moving into this position? “Sire?”

“For example, how it is that your hair brushes my face when I can see plainly that it rests against your head, undisturbed. Or perhaps how it is that what my eyes tell me your shape is, my other senses find quite the opposite.”

I squirmed, attempting to pull away again, but he held me fast.

“Who are you, Rae?” he asked, his voice low and edgy.

In a last effort, I relaxed my entire body before pushing myself down and away from him. I was nearly to my feet before he grabbed my arm and jerked me back to the ground, pinning me by the shoulders as he hovered over me.

“I will not be lied to. What trickery is this? Show me who you are or I’ll not release you.”

I pinched my eyes shut, willing past events to stay buried, to not invade this moment, but the more I struggled against them, the more terrified I became. That horrible night, every second of the assault on my body, exploded in my head, overlaying the present with its ghost. I needed a new face to give him, but my mind was jumbled. Images flashed by me faster than I could grab hold of them, and my grip on my magic crumbled. When his breath caught, I knew my glamour was gone.

“You…” he whispered.

The prince’s iron hold loosened a little, and I took the advantage. Displacing his center of balance, I kicked him from me and rolled away, snatching up my bow. I nocked an arrow and aimed it directly at him.

Slowly, he raised his hands, palms facing me in surrender. “I won’t hurt you.”

My chest heaved as I tried to take in enough air to calm myself. “Do not touch me again.”

“I wouldn’t think to,” he said, “but I prefer to know the truth about whom I travel with. It’s a matter of trust.”

“I saved your life, Highness,” I said, my words laced with anger. “I hardly see how my face, true or otherwise, factors into your opinion of me.”

“I would’ve better understood your hesitation over our sleeping arrangements, for starters.”

“I don’t ask for special consideration because of my gender.”

“But I would give it all the same.”

I gritted my teeth. “Precisely why I chose another form.”

We stared at each other in silence for a moment, him calm against the force of my glare. As the rush of defending myself ebbed away, my hands trembled, and I lowered my weapon. In a hurry to be away from him, hopefully to rein in my terror from reliving past tortures, I turned.

“Build a fire,” I said over my shoulder as I walked away.

“Where are you going?”

Not giving him an answer, I slipped out of our shelter.

With half a mile between us, I sank to the ground behind a large tree. My shoulders shook with silent sobs. This enduring feeling of helplessness, of revulsion at my own weaknesses and failures, consumed me for a good quarter hour before I could catch my breath. I was exhausted after living with this so long. Was there no respite? Was there no way to keep from reliving that night every time someone came too close? Would it ever fade to match the pale scar that man left on my side with his blade, or would the memory remain, raw and angry as a festering wound?

Shaky, I got to my feet once more. The road ahead was a long one, and we needed breakfast to keep us moving.

I returned with two rabbits, continuing my silence. After cleaning and cooking our meal, we broke camp and headed back out into the forest. His eyes followed my every movement, but still I refused conversation even after a full day of travel. I knew he had many, many questions for me, but my ire simmered even as we settled in for another night in the cold. More than once he opened his mouth to speak, but shut it again at a foul look from me.

He made no assumptions about where I would sleep, and I set up a good ten feet from him this time. A very small part of me admitted to missing his warmth as I kept watch, but most of me refused to allow him any compromise on the matter. To wake him for his turn, I poked at him with a long stick and, when he looked at me, I glared and laid down, my back to him. I knew he wasn’t the cause of my mistrust and fear, but, still, I’d gone so long refusing to talk to him that my pride kept me silent.
 

When I woke at the sound of birds, I panicked again. I was too warm. But instead of finding myself with him, wool scratched against my cheek.

I sat up, confused at finding his blanket draped over me.

“Good morning,” he said, turning another rabbit on a spit over a fire. “Sleep well?”

“What are you doing?”

“I set a few traps while on watch. I caught a rabbit, so I’m making breakfast.”

It was a little embarrassing that I was still angry with him. After all, most people in his position would have been far less understanding or level-headed about the current crisis. He was right to be suspicious of someone who disguised themselves completely, as I would have felt much the same were our positions reversed. I needed to say something to him, but I wasn’t sure how to get past my lingering irritation.

“If you’re speaking to me now,” he said, glancing up briefly, “may I ask you a question?”

I rubbed my eyes and sighed. It was time to let it go. “Go ahead.”

“What’s your name?”

Dropping my hand, I leaned back on my elbows. “Rae. I told you honestly.”

He turned the spit. “Is that short for something?”

“Raelynn,” I said. He needed to know the rest of it. “Youngest of seven sisters.”

The spit stopped turning, and he looked at me sharply. “Seven sisters,” he said. “Forced to flee because of the king?”

Pushing myself up, I nodded. “I see you’ve already made some correct assumptions. You’ve heard the stories, I imagine.”

“You’re a Princess of Bern?” His jaw went slack. “I thought—”

I grimaced. “That we were all dead? We aren’t. And, please, I’m no princess. I haven’t been for ten years, nor do I expect to be again.”