The Firethorn Crown (20 page)

Chapter Twenty

F
ather had arrived. Lily’s heart raced as if she’d been the one running instead of Melantha.

“He wants to see all of us,” Melantha said. She threw a stick at Orin. “Even you, boy.” With a wave of her arm, she drew their attention to his replacement approaching from the road.

Lily didn’t wait for the goose girl to reach the field.

Orin and Melantha took turns carrying True, while Orin explained their guess about the sorcerer.

After dropping the goose off at the kitchens, they headed straight to the king’s study.

The girls and Yarrow waited inside. Holic stood near Hazel by the fireplace. Father sat on the window seat, silhouetted against the afternoon sky, an arm around each of the twins. Wearing travel-stained clothes, his grey-winged hair disheveled, he looked more a leader than Lily ever would.

Eben dropped to one knee, and Orin bowed.

Lily wanted to throw herself into her father’s arms, but she hadn’t done that in years. She’d let him down and endangered her sisters and the whole kingdom in the process.

Only a second or two passed before he strode over and folded her in a hug. She stiffened, taking in the scent of horse and leather, and then tightened her arms around him, wetting his tunic with her tears.

Father spoke over her shoulder. “Get up, son.”

Eben’s scabbard clacked against the floor as he rose. She’d never heard Father address him that way.

“I can’t promise you that everything’s going to be okay,” Father whispered into her ear, “but I promise that I will do whatever I can to help you. Don’t ever think you’re alone.”

He stepped back. Gwen introduced him to Orin, while Lily wiped her eyes on the handkerchief she’d forgotten to return to Eben.

“Yarrow told me what he knows.” Father sat on the edge of his desk, one foot on the floor. “We found no sign of your mirror or secret passageway, but I’ve never gotten lost as many times as I did looking for them. There is something at work in there.”

“Your Majesty,” Eben said. “Prince Orin has some information that might help.”

Orin’s story about Princess Ambergina was met with silence. If they couldn’t find the sorcerer, there might be no way out of this mess. And with Mother’s decree still in effect, there would be those still snooping around trying to solve a mystery they couldn’t fathom.

Where
was
Mother?

Yarrow broke into Lily’s thoughts. “No need to look in the library.”

“Explain,” Father said.

“I’ve traveled in the far north, heard the stories. I’m old enough to know about the princess who married the sorcerer. Even met him once or twice, and his wife.”

“What’s his name?” Orin asked.

“Idris, but his name don’t matter.” Yarrow scratched his beard. “There’s no way he’d remove a curse, ‘specially one he spent so much energy craftin’.”

Sounds of dismay filled the room.

Lily reached over and tugged on Eben’s hair, waved the end of her braid at him as a double reminder, and tipped her chin towards Father.

Eben cleared his throat. “Your Majesty.”

Father held his hand out to silence the room. “What is it?”

“We believe the sorcerer, Idris, might be the real father of this underground sorcerer-prince.”

“Why?”

“The prince’s mother and the man everyone thinks was his father both had light hair.”

“This prince does not have their coloring?”

“No, sir. His hair is as dark as yours.”

“Idris was raven-haired in his youth,” Yarrow said.

Father’s eyes widened with understanding. “The sorcerer cursed his own son.”

“If the princess was carryin’ him before the curse, this could change everythin’.” Yarrow crossed his arms and addressed Lily. “You need to find out what the exact words of his curse are, but don’t let him know anythin’ about what we suspect. Might be it’ll do more harm than good. He don’t sound too stable.”

“What are you thinking, old man?” Father asked.

“I’m thinkin’ that boy might not be under any curse.”

Was that even possible?

Wren gurgled and slumped against Ruby. Father hurried over and lifted her into his lap. He ran a finger underneath the chain on Wren’s neck, thunder in his eyes. “I’d like to get my hands on whoever did this to my daughters.”

Lily’s feet itched to go
now
, to confront Tharius and get this over with, but she didn’t know if the passage would be open, or if she could get in alone. Besides that, Yarrow had warned them not to alarm Tharius.

“Eben and Yarrow will go with you tonight,” Father said. “But, for now, go get yourselves ready for the ball. For your mother’s sake. We need to dispel some of the rumors that are running rampant.”

Lily heard the slight emphasis on “running.” Father must have heard of Runson’s behavior, and he didn’t approve. In fact, now that she was in his presence again, the idea of him giving Runson his blessing seemed absurd.

*

Riva and Yarrow escorted them to the tower. Yarrow planted himself in the sitting room, and their former governess followed them upstairs. She’d had her own gown brought in, and they all dressed together.

No masks tonight. No harsh colors, no pretending. The Soldier’s Ball celebrated the soldier-king himself, who initiated the Unification, the coming together of the kingdoms during the Dragon Wars to rid the land of their enemy. Light fabrics, flowing hair, flowers, and ribbons reminded everyone of the hope offered to the splintered and ravaged lands. Lily donned a pale slate gown, the many-tiered skirt edged in crisp white. She unbound her hair, pinned the sides back, and tucked in a gardenia.

Junia shined tonight in pink.

A pattering sound, like sleet against glass, drew everyone’s attention to the middle window.

“Oh!” Neylan ran over and threw it open. A butterwing swooped in and flew erratically around the room, bumping into the mirrors and scrabbling against the ceiling until it finally tangled itself in Coral’s hair.

“Get it out! Get it out!” Coral jumped up and down.

Neylan spoke to the dragon. “Hold still.” She picked its tiny claws out of the fiery net. “Just a bit more. There.” She held fast to the creature, stroking its back, until it settled.

“Put it back out,” Mara said.

“It’s Bay’s. The one Lily left with her.” Neylan held it out, as if any of them could tell one dragon from another. “No wonder he’s cranky.”

Dragons didn’t respond well to sorcery.

“Is she okay?” Hazel stepped close to inspect the creature, as if somehow it could tell her about Bay. “How did it get out?”

Lily nudged Neylan’s thumb aside where it held down one of the dragon’s legs. A tiny scroll had been tied to it with . . . hair. Maybe the dragon
could
tell them something.

Not noticing the strange string, Neylan pulled the scroll out and handed it to her.

She unrolled the tiny paper. The number
12
stared back at her. Nothing more.

Junia peeked over her shoulder. “What does it mean?”

“I’ll get Yarrow,” Riva said.

Lily didn’t need anyone to tell her what the note meant. Tharius wanted the girls to come alone, and he was using Bay to ensure their cooperation. Did he know about Eben’s visit, or was this a reaction to Yarrow and Father snooping around in the maze? He wouldn’t hurt Bay, but he might imprison her in the glass castle.

Eben and Yarrow couldn’t come with them tonight—she wouldn’t risk any more lives. She would deal with Tharius on her own.

She gathered the girls, and they descended to the sitting room. Eben, Orin, and Holic waited, dressed in their finest to escort the girls to the ball. Orin cleaned up nice, his straw-colored hair glinting with unexpected highlights after a good wash. He looked like a prince tonight.

So did Eben. His knee-length tunic, slit up to the waist and embroidered around the hem with red firethorn berries, lent him an air of authority that usually remained subdued behind his uniform. As always, he wore his father’s dagger. His gaze darted to her hand before meeting her eyes.

She still wore the ring.

“We’re goin’ with you,” Yarrow said, as if guessing her thoughts.

She glared at him, her eyes narrowing.

“Heir or no, you’ll not keep me out.” She knew him too well for the gruff voice and stormy eyes to intimidate her.

She crossed her arms and shook her head.

“We won’t risk having anyone else trapped down there, or worse.” Gwen said, somehow managing to look fierce with half a garden of pink roses woven into her hair.

“I have some idea what you’re up against,” Yarrow said.

Lily beckoned for the girls to link hands. She’d run out now if they wouldn’t listen to her.

“Wait.” Eben strode over and touched his fingers to her wrist. “Let us escort you into the maze, at least.”

He might not care enough to break the curse, but he did have feelings for her. She knew he did. If only she could buy more time, but Tharius’s desperation grew every day. She didn’t want Eben anywhere near the undergarden. She rubbed her arms, not wanting to think of the two men face-to-face. She hoped Tharius didn’t try to send his illusion-self to the ball again tonight.

Eben would follow them, no matter what. She’d do the same for him. She feared the secret passage might stay open once they’d entered, but at least this way, she could have some say in how far he went.

He noticed the change in her expression, and his shoulders relaxed.

“We should go.” He offered her his arm—finally—and they led the way to The Soldier’s Ball.

*

Flowers in palest yellow, peach, lavender, and white filled every corner and table in the ballroom. No harsh reds tonight. No sapphire, no black. The perfume of the garden filled the air and lifted her spirits enough to cling to a moment of joy in Eben’s arms on the dance floor. Holic’s face appeared before her, and Orin’s, but always she returned to Eben, his hand warming her back, his thumb tracing the ring on her finger.

“Do you remember,” Eben said, “when Mel fell into the river and got swept downstream? I’d never heard you scream so loud in your life.”

She’d lost her voice for two days, and Melantha still bore a scar on her leg.

“I didn’t realize how accustomed I’d grown to hearing your voice, until it wasn’t there anymore. Even when I left on patrol, I could always hear you in my head. But this is different. You’re here, but I still miss your voice.”

She stumbled, and he steadied her. The room suddenly warmed.

“I don’t know who I would be without . . . your family. Without you. I don’t know how, but I’m going to find a way to help you. You would do the same for me.”

He did feel an obligation, then.

The song neared its end, and Eben would pass her off to another partner in a moment.

“I knew Orin’s plan wouldn’t work earlier.” He looked away. “I’ve always known you could never . . . feel . . . that way. For me.” He choked out a laugh. “Even if you did, you’re a princess,
the
princess, and I’m just an orphan. A common soldier.”

Wait. Was he serious? He thought
she
was the reason the kiss wouldn’t work? Well, she was, really, but not in the way he thought.

Wait. Did that mean . . . he loved her back? Her heart had never beat so fast. She would fly away like the little butterwing soon.

Gah! What did it matter, if he wouldn’t
say
so? If he didn’t think he was good enough.

But it did matter. So much.

She needed to do something. Nod her head, put her arms around his neck, kiss him. Something to let him know that she did feel that way. For him. That he was more than just a soldier.

The song ended. Eben bowed.

She did nothing.

Father stepped up for the next dance, and Eben mumbled something about getting her a cool drink.

“This is my favorite night of the Dragon Festival,” Father said. “Yours, too, if I remember correctly.”

She smiled and watched a small army of maids sweep petals from the floor before the next song. Gwen wasn’t the only lady with a bouquet in her hair.

“I’m glad to be home in time for it.” The music started, and they joined the other dancers on the floor. Father danced almost as well as Eben, but he tended to step on feet during the faster songs. Her feet were safe for the moment.

“The situation in Vinita wasn’t as dire as reported. Someone from inside the palace tampered with the message. Someone whose family wanted me out of the way for a few days.”

Runson.

Father’s eyebrows lifted. “I see you know who I’m talking about.”

She scanned the room. Runson leaned against a buffet table, watching her. Or watching Father. Maybe both.

“Your mother told me what’s been going on.”

Gowned in lavender and blue, Mother stood among a circle of ladies, her gaze locked on the man watching her husband and daughter.

“I may be useless when it comes to sorcery, but in this, I can help you.” A crafty smile spread across Father’s face. “You’re going to get rid of Runson tonight, once and for all.”

She frowned, her head still full of what Eben had almost said. She couldn’t wait to see how she was going to do that.

The song ended. Father led her to a vacant spot beside a potted topiary wound with pink ribbons. Neylan wandered over and began a conversation about plants or something. Mother and her ladies made their way around the room to join them.

Father’s face remained impassive when Runson walked up, dipped his chin and shoulders in what could hardly be called a bow, and wormed his way into the conversation. He knew even less about flowers than she did.

“Is there a reason for your presence here, Runson?” Father said.

Runson spluttered. “I, of course, Your Majesty. I’ve come to ask the princess for a dance. She’s been otherwise engaged all night.”

“Enjoy yourselves.” Father waved for Neylan to join Runson.

Still refusing to dance outside the undergarden, Neylan tilted her head and raised an eyebrow.

“No? Well, off you go, then.” A clear dismissal to Runson.

Runson ignored it. “Begging your pardon, Your Majesty, but I meant to ask Princess Lily for a dance.”