Thrallmagic: Chapter 20

Chapter 20

I wake up angry the next day. I expected hopelessness from myself, but not anger, and I’m pleasantly surprised. I slip out of bed and peek into the sitting chamber, glimpsing nothing out of the ordinary. Drawing a dressing gown on, I call Serafine, who draws me a bath. When I remove the bandage from my cheek, a pink park is still there, but it has healed enough to cover it with cosmetics. I undress, and sink into the hot bath with a sigh of relief. There are half-healed bruises on my arms and neck, but I won’t be expected to wear anything less than long sleeves, for the ponds have already begun freezing over outside, and a chill hangs in the air of the castle, no matter how many fires are lit. Gently, I comb through my tangled hair in the bath, not wanting it tugged and pulled by anyone, even Serafine.

Finishing, I step out and wrap a towel around myself, shivering as my feet touch the cool stone floor. I lace my dressing robe tightly and proceed to my closet, where Serafine is busy pressing a dress for me to wear. The dress that she’s chosen is blue so pale that one would think it white at first glance. It is trimmed with scarlet at the sleeves, which reach down all the way to the tip of my little finger.

“Has an envoy come about the hunting party, Serafine?” It is tradition for fae royals to ride with their betrothed in a hunt the day after their betrothal. They would be joined by higher-ranking nobles and clansmen, just as I inevitably will be today.

“Early this morning, your highness.” She hands me a chemise and leggings, and I slip them on, grateful for the layers of protection against the cold.

“Did he bring a message from Queen Guinevere or Prince Blathen?” I sit down on a stool and tug thick, woolen socks on, along with leather boots that have been dyed a deep red. Serafine hands me the dress, and I tug it on over my head. It has flounces sewn onto it, and though the skirt is split for riding, it is made to be beautiful, rather than practical.

Serafine throws the folds of the white cloak over my shoulders before replying. “Nothing from Her Majesty, my lady, but Prince Blathen requested that you wait for him to escort you to the riding party.”

As I turn around to let her fasten the cloak, our eyes lock, and the silent knowledge that Blathen’s message is not a request but an order is passed between us. “Well, I do hope he won’t be too long, then.” I make my tone careless, and light; exactly what would be expected of me.

Serafine looks me over for a moment before nodding. “Of course.” We look at me in the mirror. The pale color of the dress and cloak makes my complexion appear to be lighter than it is, and my eyes are like burning coals of ice. I tug the cloak off, and glance around the room. Serafine furrows her brow. “My lady, are you not-“

I consider the heaps of fabric lying around. When a scrap of scarlet velvet catches my eye, I walk over, and tug on it, revealing a cloak the color of blood, trimmed with dark furs. With a dangerous smile, I spin around. “This is what I’ll wear. The blood will be easier for you to wash out.” The last part is dripping with sarcasm, but I allow myself, for a moment, to consider killing Blathen- of having his life-blood wash over my hands, and watching the light fade from his cruel yellow eyes. My lips spread into a slow, mad smile, and when I look at myself in the mirror, I take a step back, afraid of my own reflection. The pale blue of the dress makes the crimson of the cloak even more apparent, and the velvet looks like pooling blood near my feet. My hair is wild, and unbrushed, and for a moment, I look truly insane.

I smile grimly at myself before I sit down in front of the vanity. Someone brings me a cup of chocolate, which I sip as Serafine ties my hair into a braid that crowns my head. She sets a silver circlet atop it, and, when a knock sounds at the outer door, retreats, to go see who it is. I lace my boots and stride into the sitting room, slipping my dagger into its usual sheath at my waist as I do so. My ladies bow to me, and one of them brings me a sweet puff for me to eat before I leave. The hunting party will, of course, picnic, but they’ll have to find a suitable space, and nobles can be picky.

Just as the last of the food disappears, Blathen walks in. My ladies collectively sigh and giggle, and I resist the temptation to roll my eyes. Instead, I rise gracefully, and take his proffered arm.

As we walk down the stairs, I ignore him, but make a point of laughing and smiling with every noble I meet. By the time we’re in the courtyard, Blathen is seething. I raise a challenging eyebrow, throw him a smirk, and, withdrawing my arm from his grasp, go to join a group of nobles who, at the very least, pretend to like me.

My sister is with them, her fair hair loose, and tumbling down her back. Giggling at something that’s been said, she greets me with a kiss on the cheek. The other nobles nod their heads in acknowledgement, but don’t bow in the rather informal situation.

Lady Vanessa of the Highlands chirps, “A lovely day, isn’t it, your highness? Aren’t you looking forward to the hunt?” Her sweet voice matches the strawberry blonde curls that frame her face and the soft, delicate hands that are now clasped before her, but I have seen her stun a man with both hands tied behind her back, and know that she is a force to be reckoned with.

I make my eyes gleam with promises of wild things and excitement. Injecting just the right amount of condescension into my voice- apparent, but disregardible- I say, “Quite. Between the two of us, who do you think will take more game?”

She considers me for a moment, her sharp eyes flicking over my face, before she breaks into a charming smile. “I have the highest amount of respect for you, your highness, but…” She fluffs her hair with one hand, smoothing out the dark grey fabric of her dress as she brings her hand back to her side. “… I’d have to bet on myself.” She smiles good-naturedly at the end, and I wonder- not for the first time- if we had been normal girls, would we be friends?

One of her neighbors, Lord Niall, lets out a bark of laughter. “For your own sakes, ladies, neither of you should make any wagers. Both of you are bound to lose money.” Our little circle laughs at the joke, and Niall continues, “But for my own part… well, I’m betting on our lady of the highlands.”

Vanessa grins mischievously, and opens her mouth to say something, but Kerissa quickly says, “Well, my money’s on my sister.” I smile at her, and raise an eyebrow at Vanessa.

She waves a disregarding hand. “Well, it’s natural that you’d bet on our princess. She’s your sister, after all.”

Since everyone’s spoken, I shrug. “Seeing as I’m betting on myself, it seems as though we’re at an impasse.” I look around for someone to call to us, but catch the receiving end of Blathen’s glare instead. Fury boils deep within me, but I shove it down and tuck it away for later. Instead, I deliberately ignore him, and continue to search the crowd. Prince Alexander is here, with his cousins, and even some of the Wild Hunt are here. I frown, knowing that they don’t like to involve themselves in politics. One or two of them give me dirty looks, but I ignore it. Just then, someone speaks right behind me, and I whirl around, meeting Lindon’s grinning eyes.

“What’re we betting on, again?” The group laughs congenially and Lindon enters the conversation smoothly.

“Who’ll get more game, Princess Rionach or Lady Vanessa.” Niall smiles at Lindon before adding, “Cast your vote, Prince Lindon.”

A wry expression crosses Lindon’s face, and he sends a thought to me. Do you think that if they know I won’t be a prince anymore, they’d still accept me as readily? I hide my smile, and think back, Of course not. Someone clears their throat, and both Lindon and I snap back to reality. “My vote? Princess Rionach, of course.”

I smile winningly at Lady Vanessa, who blows a puff of air through her lips before smiling back, and saying, “We’ll just have to wait and see, won’t we?” The remaining half of the guard finally arrives, and the horses are brought out by stableboys. Our little group disperses, and I look around in vain for my horse.

Lady Vanessa steps closer. “Aren’t you supposed to be riding with your betrothed, your highness?” She tips her head towards Blathen, who meets my disgusted gaze with a triumphant smirk. Horror at the prospect of having to sit with Blathen all day fills me, and I fight to keep it out of my gaze. Still, I must not completely succeed, because Lady Vanessa pats me reassuringly on the arm before mounting her own steed and riding away. I walk towards Blathen slowly, and he lifts me onto the fine black stallion that has been selected for us. On the outside, he appears to be a perfect gentleman, but only I feel his bruising fingers pressed against my waist, or his tight hold on me after he mounts the horse.

The hounds run ahead of us, baying when they catch the scent of a deer. I squirm in Blathen’s grip, but he doesn’t let go of me, only grasps me closer. I feel his hot breath on my neck, and I let out a sound between a gasp and a cry, twisting away from him. Thankfully, we seem to be going faster than the others, and a sudden bend in the road hides us from view. Blathen chuckles in my ear, and I twist around to look at him, meeting his amused gaze with my own wrathful one.

He just smiles, and I turn back around, wishing every moment that I’ll be allowed to dismount. When he brings his lips to my ear, I flinch, but force myself to listen to what he’s saying. “-needn’t worry, your highness. I won’t lay a finger on you until I need an heir to secure my position as Valkyr’s king.”

Bile rises in my throat, and I start to give a biting response, but the others come round the bend, so I soften my gaze and endeavor to look happier. The hounds have lost the scent, and are sniffing around again, so we all slow down. A few pigeons are brought down, and a small hare, but they’re only chance kills. Lindon shoots me a concerned glance, but I slam down the walls in my mind, glaring back. A wave of exhaustion comes over me, and I stifle a yawn. My side begins to hurt where I hit the table yesterday, and I shift, trying to relieve the pain. When we finally stop to picnic in a small clearing, I dismount with a sigh of relief, and stretch with a sigh of happiness. We break up into little groups, Blathen at my side. I endeavor to ignore him to the best of my abilities, and finally manage to get rid of him when Lord Niall calls him over to look at some weaponry. I sit down by Lindon, trying to avoid any ice patches that have formed in the night. He is- surprisingly- talking to Lady Cassandra, and I try to eavesdrop without being too obvious.

“-really, where do you find the manpower to do such things?” Lindon sounds earnestly interested, and I scowl.

She replies, “Well, it’s not too hard. People want something to do, you know, and-“ Their voices fade away again, too soft for me to hear, and I stifle my annoyance. Why should I care if Lindon wants to talk to her?

Prince Alexander sits by me with a smile, and I try to wipe the frown off of my face. He grins, then says, “They’re only talking about our spy network, you know.”

I try to ignore the relief I feel, and say, “Of course they are. I don’t really care, anyway.”

He lets out a small laugh. “One would think that you’re jealous, Rionach.” For the first time, I notice the way he says my name with his northern accent, and allow myself a small smile.

Then his unspoken question dawns on me, and I laugh. “Lindon and I- we aren’t- he’s just a good friend, that’s all.” As I stumble over my words, a blush rises in my cheeks. A little voice in the back of my mind tells me to conceal my emotions, to not let Alexander affect me so, and my smile fades as guilt rises.

“I know that, of course- you’ve made it clear enough. But one can be jealous of giving up a close friend, can’t they?” He leans back on his forearms, and a ray of sunlight catches his hair, turning it a fiery bronze.

I stare at him, wondering how he’s managed to cut through my defenses and walls and see what I’m thinking so easily. Quickly, I school my face into an indifferent expression. “Of course.” I avoid Alexander’s gaze, looking over my shoulder.

Blathen glares at me from a distance, his expression guardedly jealous, and I smile back cruelly. Narrowing my eyes, I turn back to Alexander with a smile. Touching his shoulder, I say, “How are you today, Alexander?” I toss a lock of my hair over my shoulder.

He smiles back. “Quite well, thanks.” He looks up at the sky, and says, “It’ll be snowing back home.”

I look up, too, and leaning forward, conspiratorially say, “It will snow soon. The winter always comes on fast. One week, the sun will be blazing down on you8, and the next, you’ll find yourself wading through giant snowbanks.”

He nods. “It’s the same for us, near the border, but Dunmaris is much further north, of course. And it’s in the mountains, which doesn’t help a thing.” He smile reminiscently, despite his annoyed words.

I shrug. “A well-guarded capital, though.” I edge closer to him, biting a nail. “Have you been made welcome to the palace, or are people still shying away from you in the corridors?”

Alexander laughs. “Your nobles, at the very least- the ones who’ll give me a chance- are finding, I think, that we think and act the same as you do. The ones who won’t give us a chance won’t speak to us, so don’t worry yourself, Rionach. We’ve been accepted into society- temporarily, at least.”

A sudden shriek from the edge of the meadow startles me, and the hand I’m resting on slips on the grass, and I fall forward onto Alexander. Laughing, he helps me up, and I nod my thanks, dusting myself off. As we go to see what the commotion is about, I catch Blathen’s eye, and raise a single eyebrow, my smile replaced with anger.

Did you think it would be easy to control me, dear prince?