A Charm for a Unicorn (21 page)

The look his father gave him seemed to penetrate right through his skull. “Yes. It means Sylvain will be next in line. Why? Have you second thoughts about becoming king?"

"Yes.” It was always best to be direct and truthful with his father.

"Has she inherited her mother's charm then?"

"Yes, but it doesn't matter,” said Renaldo. “I fell in love with her, and her charm has no effect on me, except, perhaps, to make me love her more."

The fire in the chimney was dying, and the light became redder. The lamps had long ago flickered and gone out. Moonlight filtered through the white curtains and fell on the bed, illuminating Leonie's bandaged face and arms. Everything else was in shadow.

His father stirred, then said irritably, “A king is not an easy position, but it's the position you've been trained for. I know better than to tell you what to do. Your sense of duty will dictate your actions. I will wait for you downstairs. I have things to say to Sir Casper. We're leaving as soon as I finish.” He rose, and without waiting for any reply, left the room.

"Leonie?” Something told Renaldo she was listening to them.

Her eyes opened. They were clear, like rainwater, and in the moonlight, seemed almost silver. Blood still matted her hair, and no one had changed her dress. It was still the torn and tattered silk robe. Pain clouded her eyes, and there was sorrow too. Renaldo thought he knew why.

"How are you feeling? Should I get your father?"

"No. I want to talk to you first.” Her words were muffled by bandages.

"About what?"

"Thank you for saving me."

He wasn't expecting that. “I don't know if I did."

"I won't let you give up your responsibilities to Windtide,” she said. Her hand tightened on his.

"I would never do that, but there are different ways of shouldering one's responsibilities. Besides, my father is still the king. He has many years before him. Now that the house of Bromley has no more claim to our throne, Sylvain will have to be trained to rule. My parents will be busy. As for me, there are other lands beyond the Isle of the Three Kingdoms. I think perhaps, it is time someone thought about opening trading routes and finding strong allies in case Bromley decides to conquer all of Windtide."

"Is that what you'd like to do? Open trading routes?” Leonie spoke softly.

Renaldo looked at her. “And find allies. I'd like to go explore other lands. I've taken a liking to sailing, and the world is vast. Windtide will need more allies if Bromley decides to push past our boundaries again. I intend to secure a treaty with Querel. But perhaps I'll let Sylvain take care of that. He seems gifted in diplomacy."

"That sounds like a good idea,” said Leonie weakly. As she spoke, the door creaked open and Claude came in. It was still a shock to Renaldo to see the mouse as a human.

"I thought she'd be awake by now.” He lit the lamp at the foot of her bed and said, “Will you excuse me, Renaldo?"

Renaldo got up and hopped over to the other chair. He watched as Claude sat down and delicately took the bandages off Leonie's face. “Is she healed already?” Renaldo asked.

"No, of course not. But the bleeding has stopped and it's best to leave it alone for now. The bandages will only rub the cuts and make them worse."

Renaldo felt his stomach tighten as he saw Leonie's face and arms. Her face would never look the same. It was scarred, he saw, disfigured forever. Her arms were badly bruised and cut as well. Luckily, the two magicians had enough power between them to accelerate the healing process and ease her discomfort.

"Tomorrow you can bathe and change your clothes. But tonight, you must lie still and rest. Cook will bring you some soup in a few minutes.” Claude said, patting her hand.

"Aren't you afraid to fall under her charm?” Renaldo blurted.

Claude smiled sadly. “She is injured and her charm spell is so faint as to be almost evaporated. But I've no doubt it will return when she recovers."

Renaldo's heart leapt. “What I feel for her has nothing to do with the spell. I knew it! I love her, and can't live without her."

"And yet you must.” Leonie's voice was clear.

"What do you mean?” Renaldo got up and almost took a step, remembered his missing leg just in time, and tightened his grip upon the back of his chair.

"You are the crown prince of Windtide, whether you like it or not. You have a duty to your kingdom."

"I have no intention of shirking,” Renaldo said. He hopped to her bed. Looking down at her he said, “I intend to marry you. Perhaps we won't see each other as much as we'd like, but I can't imagine life without you. Knowing you're here, waiting for me wherever I may be will give me courage to do my duties despite being nothing but a one-legged prince. I will always be prince of Windtide,” he said. “But my heart is here, with you."

"But I don't want to marry anyone,” said Leonie. Her eyes shimmered with tears but they didn't spill over to her cheeks. “I want to be free. I don't want to live anywhere. As soon as I can, I want to return to the forest."

Claude shook his head. “That is the unicorn speaking. I remember clearly being a mouse, and for a while it will be hard to stop craving cheese.” He gave a crooked grin. “Tomorrow, you will be more like Leonie.” To Renaldo he said, “I think it would be best if you accompanied your father to your own castle. You must let Leonie recover. She is still part unicorn."

Renaldo, looking into her strange, silvery eyes, knew that Claude was right.

Renaldo bent down and brushed a kiss as light as moth wings upon Leonie's forehead. “Farewell, Lady Leonie. Know that I love you, and I will be back."

"I love you, too,” she said. But her mouth trembled violently as she said it, and endless forests appeared in the depths of her eyes. Renaldo turned away, his heart heavy.

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Leonie watched him leave, her own heart beating painfully. She hadn't seen him after his accident, and watching him hop slowly out of the room on crutches tortured her. She wanted to leap from the bed, hug him, and tell him she'd always love him. But part of her shied from that thought and strained toward the perfect freedom she'd known as a unicorn.

Besides, her wounds were too severe. Even if she tried, she couldn't move. She had to keep still and heal. She felt her father's and Claude's magic coursing through her; knitting flesh together, realigning bones and tendons, and soothing bruises and cuts. She closed her eyes. Her own magic had been nearly depleted when she'd called the whirlwind to save herself and Renaldo from the hounds. The dogs had been enchanted by Sir Wulfe. She'd been able to feel that. Why should Sir Wulfe hate her? But he did, she had felt that, too. He'd wanted to crush her to dust. And yet, he claimed to love her!

He acted as if he owned her, when no one owned her. Nobody did.

A violent shudder racked her body. Even the thought of Renaldo owning her made her feel ill. Why did men and women have to marry anyway? She didn't feel like eating. She wanted to turn back into a unicorn and flee the house. The covers were too heavy, the walls too close to her. She felt trapped.

Then the door opened and Cook entered, bearing a tray. She set it carefully on the chair and fussed over the fireplace, adding tinder and logs until the yellow tongues of flame lit up the room. Then she turned the lamps up, chasing the last of the shadows away.

With gentle, deft hands Cook propped pillows behind her, sitting her up in the bed so that she could eat. But her arms and hand hurt too much, so Cook stayed and fed her.

Leonie stared into Cook's mellow, amber eyes and asked, “Do you miss being a goat?” It was the first time she'd ever mentioned the enchantment to Cook, but Cook's regard didn't waver the slightest.

"No, I don't miss it at all. My life as a goat wasn't as full as this one. I prefer being Cook. There is not a day that passes I don't thank your father for enchanting me. The same goes for Bob. Most enchantments feel the same. Why? What is it, child?"

"I miss being a unicorn.” Leonie was suddenly afraid to look at her. What would she think?

She heard the chair creak as Cook shifted a bit, and then warm hands stroked her cheek, like when she was little. “You weren't really a unicorn. You were always Leonie. What you found was the part of Leonie that most longed to be a unicorn. And why not? Unicorns are free to go where they like.

"Ever since you could walk you've wanted to go places. Yet you've always had to stay here. You must have felt imprisoned sometimes. You always hated being held too closely or cuddled tight, unlike Ann, who would sit for hours on my lap. Plus you're always cold, and a unicorn is impervious to the weather.” Cook's voice had a smile in it. Leonie opened her eyes and looked. Yes, Cook smiled at her, her eyes twinkling.

"You've always been an independent person. But that's just your true personality showing through. You're not really a unicorn. You might like it for a while, but you'd grow to miss your humanity. It's infinitely richer being a human."

"But I don't want to belong to anyone,” Leonie cried. She bunched her sheets in her hands.

"Is that what's truly bothering you?” Cook asked, gazing at her keenly. “Is it Prince Renaldo?"

"He wouldn't set me free!” The words burst from her throat and vibrated queerly in the room.

Cook nodded. “I thought so."

Leonie had to stop shaking before she could speak again. “What do you mean?"

Cook smoothed her hand over Leonie's hair. “You think that he kept you against your will, don't you?"

"But that's what happened! His touch held me prisoner. I begged him to let me go, but he didn't."

"You could have slipped from his grasp any time you wanted,” said Cook, her voice soft but firm. “But you didn't want to, and that frightened you."

Leonie thought about that. “I wanted to stay with him, but I thought that as long as he touched me I couldn't move. It was as if his arms were stronger than chains."

"He didn't want to let go of you and deep down inside, you didn't want him to set you free. That's what you felt. You're still Leonie, after all.” Cook smiled.

"I'm still Leonie.” She closed her eyes. The memory of the forest ebbed from her body. Spring green and gold started to fade from her memory. Forests and mountains receded, and she shivered, suddenly, with cold. “Is there a warmer blanket, Cook? I'm freezing."

"Here.” Cook got up and took a warm flannel quilt from the cedar-wood chest near the fireplace. She hung it over the quilt warmer, then laid it on the bed, tucking it around Leonie so it was like being in a soft, cozy, nest.

"What should I do?” Leonie asked, her eyes closing with fatigue.

Cook didn't ask about what. She knew. “Prince Renaldo truly loves you. But you are young, and you need to find your own place in the world before you can share it with him."

"Is my place in the world here at Castle Veil?” Her eyelids fluttered as she tried to stay awake.

"I don't know. Only you can discover that."

Just one more question, and then she could sleep. “Did my mother feel like a prisoner? Did she hate it here?"

"No, child, she loved it here. She loved your father, and she loved you. She was happy here. For to her, this was freedom. There are many different types of freedom. You need to find the one that you need."

Cook's voice trailed into silence, and finally Leonie let sleep claim her.

Ann was perched on her bed the next day. When Leonie opened her eyes, Ann said, “How do you feel?"

"Better.” Leonie smiled, and her mouth only hurt a little. She wiggled her shoulders and moved her arms and legs. “Can I get up now?"

"Father said you could take a bath and change. I'll help you. Cook has got the bath house ready. There is plenty of hot water. I've never seen so much hot water,” she added.

"Oh, bliss!” Leonie laughed. “I really need to wash. I must look a fright."

Ann swallowed hard. “Leo, I don't know how to tell you this. But I have to. Your face is ... scarred,” she finished, looking miserable.

Leonie nodded. “I know. Sir Wulfe enchanted the dogs. They were sent to kill me. I could feel the spells holding them, but I couldn't fight them all at once. All I could do was call a whirlwind, and even that took all my strength."

"So you know about your face?"

"Don't look so miserable, Ann. It's only scars. They will fade."

"How did you learn all that magic? Father says you can transform yourself now! No magician has ever been able to do that."

"Don't ask me how I know. I just ... feel it.” Leonie frowned. “It's like knowing how to breathe. You do it without thinking."

"You do everything without thinking,” said Ann, her old smile back. “Leonie, still a bird-brain."

"The bird-brained magician,” said Leonie, “That's me.” And she laughed. It felt good to laugh. It felt even better to wash her hair and put a clean dress on.

Afterward, she sat by a roaring fire in the kitchen and let everyone fuss over her. It was the first time she'd ever liked that. She had a warm shawl over her shoulders, and Ann sat next to her and popped popcorn. Cook made tea and toast. Claude kept piling wood on the fire, and the kitchen smelled of toast and popcorn.

Her father came in a while later and pulled a chair up next to her. He examined her wounds, prodded them gently, and pronounced her on her way to being completely healed.

"Thanks to you and Claude,” said Leonie.

"He's actually quite talented,” said her father, when the young man had gone to fetch some more wood.

"Can I ask you something?” Leonie said, taking her father's hand. Part of her realized that she had never felt as comfortable with her father before. So many things had changed in such a short time that it almost made her feel like one of Ann's exploding corn kernels.

"Of course."

"Why did Sir Wulfe want to make me unhappy? He claimed to love me.” Leonie shook her head. “I want to know what love is. I'm afraid of it now. Renaldo says he loves me. What if he decides to make me unhappy? I just don't understand!"