Stray (11 page)

Aislynn picked up a dish and began drying it. The bitterness in Brigid's voice made her nervous. After all, the custody spell was performed for a peasant woman's own good. Without it, she would be prey to her own uncontrollable urges.

Maybe Brigid just didn't know any better. The advisers always said that servants were unable to welcome the help they so desperately needed, since they didn't have the same capacity for self-preservation that royals did. As
The Path
stated, “A wolf raised in a barn may have food and warmth, but if the gate is left unlatched, it will return to the forest it came from.” It was up to royals to latch that gate.

“I can finish the rest of them,” Brigid said quietly. “It won't take me long at all.” Suddenly the air in the kitchen felt hot. Aislynn backed away from the sink.

“I'm allowed,” added Brigid mildly, and though it seemed logical that a kitchen servant would be allowed to use magic in the kitchen, Aislynn wanted no part of it.

“I'll head to bed, then,” said Aislynn. Brigid nodded.

Moving quickly, Aislynn left the kitchen, not stopping until she had climbed the stairs, crossed the hallway, and locked her bedroom door behind her.

A
islynn ran. She could not see the wolf, but she could hear it, racing through the twigs and leaves that covered the forest floor as it pursued her. With her arms lifted in front of her like a shield, Aislynn felt the slap of branches whipping against her skin. She ran faster
.

The only light came from the brilliant moon, giant and round, casting a bluish glow through the thick branches. But it was not enough light to illuminate the thick tree trunk until it was too late. Aislynn fell. There was no containing the cry of pain as she slammed into the earth
.

Whipping her head up, Aislynn searched the night for the wolf, catching only glimpses of its silvery coat as it darted in and out of the shadows, circling her. Then the moon shifted and the wolf stepped out of the darkness, its yellow eyes glowing
.

With a gasp, Aislynn woke. Legs aching and heart racing, she lay still, trying to understand what was happening to her. How was this possible? Her loving heart was gone. That dangerous, corruptible part of her had been removed. Why had the nightmares returned?

Rescuing herself from the damp snarl of her blanket and nightgown, Aislynn pressed a cold fist to her chest. The teacup, and now this? Removing her loving heart was supposed to protect her, but she felt just as dangerous as before.

The early bell had yet to ring, but Aislynn dressed anyway, eager to leave the nightmare behind.

Getting into the fairy godmother uniform yesterday had been a struggle, and this morning was no different. But Tahlia had been right, Aislynn thought as she tugged the purple fabric into place, the hem spread out on the floor around her. No one would ever see her legs.

With her hair twisted into a tight braid, she arranged her wimple as best she could and slipped Tahlia's mirror into her pocket. Its small weight was a comfort against her hip.

The academy was quiet. Aislynn hurried toward the kitchen, where the servants' day had already begun and the sounds and smells of breakfast greeted her.

Her stomach grumbled, but she didn't stop. As she headed out the back door, the early bell sounded, no doubt waking the rest of the fairy godmothers. The grass was wet with morning dew, and though Aislynn did her best to hold up her robes, the hem of her uniform was quickly soaked. She reached the bouquet table just as Thackery was exiting his cottage, his arms full of roses.

Fixing a smile on her face, Aislynn decided that she would forgive him for his comments the night she had arrived and for his rude behavior the next morning. There was no reason for either of them to hold a grudge. She lifted her hand in greeting, hoping to start anew, but before she could say anything, Thackery threw Linnea's bouquet into her arms and went back into the cottage, slamming the door behind him.

Clearly he was still out of sorts.

Aislynn gave a small huff of frustration, turned on her heel, and stomped back to the castle. As she passed the rest of the fairy godmothers just exiting the kitchen, she told herself that it didn't matter what the castle gardener thought of her.

Linnea's room was still dark when Aislynn entered. She placed the flowers on the dresser and went to open the curtains, just as Tahlia had always done. As morning spread across the carpet, Aislynn carefully arranged the roses in their vase. She was examining her handiwork when she remembered that her fairy godmother had also greeted her each morning with a tray of tea.

“Thorns,” she swore under her breath. It wasn't even eight o'clock, and she had already made a mistake.

“Hmmm?” came a sleepy voice. Linnea was sitting up in bed, rubbing her eyes.

“Good morning, Your Majesty,” said Aislynn, inching toward the door. There was still time. Chances were that the tray was waiting for her downstairs. It wouldn't take long to get it. But before she could, she noticed that Linnea was holding out her arms with a look of confusion.

The robe. Aislynn snatched up the dressing gown that lay across the plush chair next to the bed. The delicate fabric seemed to tangle and wrinkle as she struggled to wrap Linnea in it. Finally the monarch princess kindly batted her away and put on the robe by herself.

Rising from her bed, Linnea made her way to the vanity and, once she was seated, looked at Aislynn expectantly. There was a quiet knock on the door and Brigid entered, carrying a tray of tea.

“Good morning, Your Majesty.” The servant girl gave a bow and was gifted with a dazzling smile from the monarch princess. “Aislynn thought we should divide responsibilities so as to best ease you through this transition.”

“Oh, Aislynn.” Linnea beamed up at her fairy godmother. “You are so thoughtful.”

“Shall I help you with your hair?” Brigid asked. She set the tray down on the dresser next to the flowers.

“Yes, thank you, Brigid.” Linnea's posture was in line with the back of her chair.

Over Linnea's head, Brigid nodded toward the tea set, and eager to do something useful, Aislynn busied herself with pouring a cup. Enough to drink, but not too full. She even blew on it a little.

Placing the delicate porcelain teacup on an equally delicate saucer, Aislynn brought the tea to Linnea. Brigid had begun to unwind the monarch princess's hair, and Aislynn stepped back to observe.

With gentle fingers, Brigid untied each of the ribbons that secured Linnea's curls. She unfurled each glossy lock until it rested against Linnea's pale neck and shoulders.

The monarch princess seemed to appreciate Brigid's assistance. Her eyes were closed, a small smile appearing in the corner of her lips . . . a smile that quickly faded when she took a sip of her tea.

“Your Majesty?” Brigid's hands stilled as the princess placed the tea on her vanity and with a delicate finger pushed it toward Aislynn.

“Perhaps I could have some sugar in this?”

Aislynn cursed her pumpkin-headedness. She took a deep breath. She could do better. Quickly spooning sugar into the cup, she handed the doctored tea back to the monarch princess.

It wasn't long before each curl was untied and draped across Linnea's shoulders like an ocean of red waves. “Thank you, Brigid,” Linnea said as the servant girl gathered the cloth ribbons into a basket.

“Your Majesty.” Brigid curtsied and departed.

Linnea's tea had been abandoned. Perhaps it had been too sweet this time around. The air in the room seemed heavy with Aislynn's mistakes.

“I am so sorry, Your Majesty,” she offered.

“It's quite all right,” said Linnea. “I suspect it will take some time to get used to each other. And you'll need some time to get used to—” She gestured to the fairy godmother's uniform. “This, I imagine. It must be difficult for you.”

“It's my Path.” But instead of pride, Aislynn felt only shame and embarrassment. She cleared her throat and lifted her chin. “I will not yearn for what I cannot have.” She said it more for herself than anything.

“Yes, of course.” Linnea seemed strangely flustered, and her eyes dropped to her teacup. “I never meant to imply . . . that is, I was getting quite used to Brigid, and it will most likely take some time for us to become accustomed to each other.”

“I'm sorry, Your Majesty.” Aislynn rushed to apologize again. The last thing she wanted was to cause her princess discomfort. “Perhaps if you told me the things your last fairy godmother did that you'd like me to do, then I could be of better assistance.”

“I never really liked my last fairy godmother.” Instantly Linnea's hand flew to her mouth and her eyes grew round with shock, as if she couldn't believe what she had just said. Then a tiny sputter burst from her lips, followed quickly by an eruption of giggles. “I'm sorry, that's a sooty thing to say.”

“Not if it was true,” said Aislynn, causing Linnea to laugh harder.

“It was true! Oh, goodness.” Linnea wiped her eyes. “Poor woman. It wasn't her fault, really. She was more like Adviser Lennard's fairy godmother than mine. He's been my guardian since . . .” Her tone grew more somber. “Since my parents died. And I think sometimes he forgets that I'm older now.” She turned her head, watching her locks bounce and sway. “He still thinks I'm a little girl with little-girl curls.”

Frowning at her reflection, Linnea wrapped her finger around a chunk of copper hair and pulled. Hard. Aislynn winced. The monarch princess did not.

Across from the kitchen was a small room with no windows and one long table jammed up against the wall. To the left of the door was a trolley bowing under the weight of a tureen of steaming porridge, flanked by bowls of apple slices and dishes of brown sugar.

The other fairy godmothers had already collected their breakfasts and were crammed together on one side of the table, eating silently, their eyes directed downward. They all glanced up when Aislynn entered. Some of them glared, clearly still angry about yesterday's incident with the exploding teacup, but quickly returned their attention to their meals. Their movements were unnervingly uniform. They even appeared to be chewing in unison.

Her stomach gurgling with hunger, Aislynn filled her bowl halfway with the hot porridge, trying to keep her sleeves out of the gooey, bland breakfast. That morning she had tried to tie them up as Brigid had done the night before, but it had been impossible, and she had the sense that the headmistress would not look too kindly on such adjustments.

Still, despite the sleeves and the constant itching around her neck, Aislynn was surprised to discover that she actually enjoyed her uniform. She appreciated how invisible it made her and how the draping fabric completely obscured her figure. A figure that no one would ever look upon again.

The realization should have made her sad, but Aislynn only felt a dangerous trickle of excitement. She added another heaping scoop of porridge to her bowl. And then another, adding a pile of brown sugar to the top. Then, gathering up a handful of apple slices, Aislynn took her heavenly smelling breakfast and settled at the far end of the table.

With a wall of blank eyes watching her, Aislynn took a thick section of apple and dipped it into her porridge. The chewy oats and sweet sugar softened each crunchy bite, infusing the warm concoction with a cool, tart finish. Without a corset tight around her ribs, she could swallow comfortably. She wasn't afraid of taking one bite too many and pulling her perfectly tailored gown unpleasantly against her skin.

It didn't take long for her to clean her bowl. The others stared at her the entire time. For a moment, Aislynn thought of suggesting that they might enjoy doing the same with their breakfasts, but she quickly rejected the idea. After all, their time together was only temporary, and it was better to focus on pleasing the monarch princess than on trying to form friendships. Searching for companionship among fairy godmothers was as pointless as befriending a winter's frost, or so
The Path
said.

Aislynn rose and fixed herself another serving. As she was stirring the sugar and oatmeal together, one of the teachers appeared in the doorway.

“Thea,” she said, summoning a fairy godmother with a curled finger.

Everyone else stayed at the table, playing with what remained of her porridge and watching Aislynn as she ate. It wasn't long before Thea returned and the teacher gestured to another fairy godmother at the far end of the table. “Cecily,” she said, but the girl shook her head. “Nothing to report?”

“Nothing,” said Cecily.

“Very well. Juliana?”

This time, she was rewarded with a nod as a petite fairy godmother rose and followed her out of the room.

Thea leaned over to Cecily. “Maybe you're not watching her closely enough,” she said.

Cecily's eyes narrowed. “I watch her as closely as is necessary.”

“I don't have anything either,” one of the other girls interjected, and Thea shook her head condescendingly.