Stray (16 page)

“I'm glad that's over.” Placing an arm around Aislynn, Brigid gave her a gentle squeeze. “It will be dawn in a few hours. I can never sleep on nights like this. Want to watch the morning glories open?”

The night was quiet and the breeze ruffled the leaves and flowers, making them bob and dip almost as if they were bowing to those who passed. The scent of roses surrounded them. Aislynn and Brigid settled on one of the few stone benches scattered around the garden, the moonlight illuminating the purple buds of the morning glories that climbed each trellis.

But the moon wasn't the only light. Across the garden, Aislynn could see a faint yellow glow in the cottage window. A shadow paced back and forth. Thackery. Suddenly the cottage went dark, and Aislynn imagined him crawling into bed, settling into sleep. The idea of Thackery sleeping so close by made Aislynn feel uncomfortable, as if even imagining it was inappropriate. She ignored the strange twist in her stomach and turned back to Brigid, who had also been staring in the same direction.

“You can't let him bother you,” Brigid said. “He just . . . well, we all deal with it in our own ways, I suppose.”

“Deal with what? What was that? Who was that girl? What did I just help you do?” The questions fell from Aislynn's mouth like a broken strand of pearls.

“I didn't even think to ask her name. . . .” Brigid shook her head with a small humorless laugh.

“Why does she have the same mark on her shoulder that Thackery does?”

“How do you know about that?” Brigid asked with surprise.

“I saw it when he was gardening. What is it?” pressed Aislynn. “Do all commoners have them?” Instantly she regretted the question, but Brigid just shook her head.

“No, not everyone.”

“Then what is it? Does it have something to do with why she was here?”

“It's why we're all here.” Brigid undid the top clasp on her dress and pulled the fabric off her shoulder, revealing a circular brand just like Thackery and Gilly's. Close enough to see it clearly, Aislynn realized there were four dots inside the circle. It looked a little like a button.

Brigid restored her dress. “I didn't show you this so you would feel sorry for me,” she said. “I showed it to you so you would understand how important your silence is. No one can know about this. Not just the headmistress and the monarch princess, but the other servants and other fairy godmothers. Not even the person you send letters to.”

“I don't understand.”

Brigid sighed heavily. She looked very tired. “Josetta gave us these marks, and she did it for many reasons. One was to remind us and anyone else that we were in her . . . care.”

“You belonged to Queen Josetta?”

“As much as you belong to Linnea,” Brigid responded drily.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean . . .” Aislynn tried to apologize, but Brigid just shook her head.

“Of course you didn't.” Her mouth was twisted in a humorless smile. “We only know what we are taught. I can't blame you for your ignorance.”

“I'm sorry?” Aislynn's words were indignant and colored with embarrassment.

“Not just about commoners.” Brigid tilted her head. “I saw the look on your face when I was fixing Gilly's gown. You were terrified.”

“Magic is dangerous and should be treated with caution and restraint,” said Aislynn primly.

Brigid let out a hoarse laugh. “You royals. I'll never understand why you started believing that. Magic is not dangerous.”

Shocked, Aislynn stood and moved away. It was one thing for servant women to disregard the damage magic would do to them, but to deny its danger completely was insulting and misguided. “It absolutely is.”

“If magic is so dangerous, then why are fairy godmothers allowed to use it?” asked Brigid calmly.

“We provide guidance! An example of why we should all follow the Path!” Aislynn struggled to explain something that needed no explaining. “Without fairy godmothers, royal women would be unable to resist the temptation to do magic, and they'd meet the same monstrous end as the four sisters.”

“Monstrous end?” Brigid scoffed. “I think you and I have heard very different versions of this story.”

“Yes, I daresay the one you learned from Queen Josetta is filled with all manner of interesting details.” As soon as the words left her mouth, Aislynn wanted to take them back. But it was too late.

Brigid clenched her jaw. “You royals like to believe you're so different, so much better than the Wicked Queen, but when it comes to magic, you all think the same. And you all act the same, too.” And before Aislynn could answer, Brigid was on her feet and stalking out of the garden.

Regret and confusion swirled through Aislynn. She was alone under the stars, and no longer sure of the things she thought she knew.

A
islynn woke with a start. She had overslept. It was too late to get the bouquet, too late to get the tea. Hastily pulling on her robes, she rushed into the monarch princess's room and froze at the sight in front of her. Linnea was sitting in her chair, her dressing gown wrapped around her, and Madame Moira was standing in the center of the room.

“No flowers this morning?” asked the headmistress with a hard glare. Then, she turned back to Linnea. “I thought you said—”

“As I was trying to tell you before Aislynn arrived, I said she was going to speak to the gardener about my flower arrangements.” The princess spoke in a haughty, unfamiliar voice. “If you had let me continue, I would have said that she was speaking to him about my desire to receive them every other day instead of every day.” Rising from her chair, Linnea swept across the room to the dresser, where yesterday's flowers stood in full bloom. “It's a shame to waste them, don't you think?” She stroked the bloodred petals gently, and a few fluttered to the carpet near Aislynn's feet. The look on Linnea's face made it very clear that Aislynn should remain silent.

But Madame Moira was not to be deterred. “That still doesn't answer my question, Your Majesty.”

“You asked if I knew where my fairy godmother was,” Linnea retorted. “I think I've answered you already. Don't you think so, Aislynn?”

“Perhaps I should have clarified.” Madame Moira clasped her hands together. “Do you know where your fairy godmother was last night?”

Aislynn's stomach dropped. Had the headmistress checked her room? There was a loud silence as a hundred laughable excuses raced through her head. She had gone downstairs for a drink of water and fallen asleep in the kitchen. She had been cleaning a classroom as punishment. She had gone for a walk and gotten lost.

“Of course I know where she was,” Linnea snapped, her back as straight as a spindle. “She was here with me.”

The headmistress's triumphant expression fell away, and Aislynn struggled to keep the surprise from her own face.

“On occasion I ask my fairy godmother to sleep here, in my chair,” said Linnea. “Last night was one of those nights.”

“If I may, Your Majesty . . .” Madame Moira was barely able to hide her annoyance. “Why do you require your fairy godmother to remain in your room while you sleep?”

“It really isn't any of your business.” Linnea lifted her chin defiantly, though her lower lip wobbled. “But I've found that with my fairy godmother nearby, I have a tendency to sleep better.”

“Everything that occurs within the academy walls is my business, Your Majesty,” Madame Moira responded, directing a purposeful look at Linnea's unmade bed. “I'm sure I don't have to remind you of that.”

“Yes, headmistress,” said Linnea, lowering her eyes. Her cheeks were red.

“Good. Now I expect to see you at breakfast, Your Majesty,” the headmistress said before sweeping from the room.

As soon as the door clicked shut, Linnea let out a shaky puff of air, followed by a whoop of laughter.

Struggling to catch her own breath, Aislynn felt her legs give. She stumbled and knocked into the edge of the dresser, causing the roses to wobble and fall. The vase hit an open drawer on the way down and scattered broken glass across the carpet. Dropping to the floor, Aislynn pulled the flowers from the broken vase, cutting her palm on a large shard of crystal.

“Aislynn!” Kneeling beside her, Linnea took her fairy godmother's hand in her own. She unwound one of her hair ribbons and gently used it as a bandage. The cut wasn't deep.

“I'm so sorry, Your Majesty.”

“It's just a bunch of flowers.” Linnea gathered the roses from the floor and placed them back on the dresser.

“Not just about that.” Aislynn couldn't look at Linnea and focused her attention on mopping up the mess. “About you having to lie for me.”

“Well, I'm afraid to admit there was some selfishness in my decision to do so.” Aislynn glanced up to see an enthusiastic gleam in the monarch princess's eye. “I want to know everything about your secret tryst last night!”

“My what?”

“Your secret tryst. The reason you weren't in bed.” Linnea's voice was full of excitement. “I want to know everything!”

Aislynn was speechless a moment. “I'm sorry to disappoint,” she said. “But there was no tryst.”

“Then where were you?” Linnea demanded.

For a moment Aislynn thought of using one of the many terrible excuses she had thought up, but she owed Linnea more than a poorly formed lie. So she told the truth. Part of it. “I was baking.”

“Baking?” Linnea crossed her arms over her chest, her disbelief obvious. “What were you baking?”

“Cinnamon bookbinder bread.”

“Where is it?”

“Uh . . . I burned it?”

“You burned it.”

“It didn't rise.” Aislynn thought of Tahlia's letter. “It didn't rise, and that's why it burned. So I threw it away.”

“Why were you baking?” It was clear Linnea didn't believe her.

“I was lonely.” It wasn't quite the truth, but it wasn't exactly a lie either. Aislynn had promised Brigid she wouldn't say anything, and despite their argument, she had no intention of breaking that promise.

“Lonely,” Linnea repeated.

Aislynn sighed. “I've been writing to my old fairy godmother,” she confessed. At least that secret was hers to share. “I know I'm not supposed to, and I don't plan to do it again, but I just needed to ask her some questions.”

“About baking?”

“I'm usually better at it, but I was . . . upset.” Aislynn swallowed, hoping Linnea would stop asking questions soon. “I went down to the kitchen and tried to make something, but I got distracted and it burned. Then I guess I fell asleep.”

After a long pause, Linnea sighed. “I'm not sure I want to believe you. I was so hoping it was a romantic tryst.”

“Unfortunately, Your Majesty . . .” Aislynn tapped her heart. “I'm not built for such things any longer.”

Linnea's eyes widened. “Of course! How foolish of me to forget.” The monarch princess lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “What was it like?” she asked, lifting a hand to her own chest. “Did it hurt?”

Aislynn shook her head. “It was like—like I was made of smoke and someone was reaching through me,” she said slowly, trying to find the words. “And afterward, it's as if everything became clearer. Less distracting.”

“And those feelings are gone? Completely gone? Do you still notice . . .” Linnea looked down, her cheeks pink. “When people are attractive?”

“It's different,” Aislynn said. “It feels removed from me. I don't . . .” The word she was looking for was on the tip of her tongue and the back of her mind.

“Swoon?” Linnea offered.

That was the word. Aislynn nodded.

“Incredible.” The monarch princess released a deep breath. “Sometimes I think it would be good for all of us to be without such messy emotions clouding our judgment.” Asking if there was anyone in particular clouding Linnea's judgment seemed rather impertinent, so Aislynn kept the question to herself.

“But before you were a fairy godmother,” said Linnea pressing on, “did you ever . . . ?”

“Swoon?”

The monarch princess giggled. “Yes. Did you ever swoon?”

“There was someone,” said Aislynn. “Once.”

“What was his name?”

“Everett.” She remembered the night of the ball, the quiet of the garden, his fingers on her wrist. Still, there was no longing.

Linnea leaned forward. “What happened?”

The breakfast bell rang.

“Oh, soot!” Linnea exclaimed. “Don't think this means you're out of the tower. I'll get the story from you yet!”

It took enormous willpower for Aislynn to stay awake during her classes that day. She also somehow managed to avoid Brigid, and she even found ways to distract Linnea so that she would stop asking about Aislynn's previous life.

That night, she didn't even bother to change out of her uniform, collapsing fully clothed onto her bed. She was asleep almost immediately.