Seeds of Discovery (14 page)

It was Mia who found her. After returning from her day-off visit with her family in the village, Mia was anxious to check on the girl’s room and make sure she had anything she needed. She was surprised when she reached the door and found it locked. Tentatively, she knocked. There was no answer.

She tried again, calling through the door, “Miss Quinn?” Still nothing. She decided that perhaps Quinn was bathing to prepare for dinner in an hour, and that she could duck in and tidy up without bothering her. She unlocked the door and slipped quietly into the room.

Mia gasped when she saw Quinn lying on the bed, perfectly still. Her eyes were open. Sticky, wet streaks ran down both of her cheeks though she wasn’t still crying. Her face was lying in a large, wet spot on the white duvet. Clearly, she had had quite a crying spell. “Miss Quinn! What is it? What’s wrong?”

Quinn turned her head at the sound of Mia’s voice, but she didn’t answer. Mia saw moisture building again in the corners of her eyes. “I’ll be right back, Miss!” Mia ran to find Linnea.

 When Linnea came in, she climbed right up on the bed next to Quinn. “Quinn? What’s wrong? What’s happened?” Quinn just looked at her and shook her head, tears spilling onto her cheeks again. “Are you homesick?” Quinn only closed her eyes and silently shook her head. Linnea decided not to press her any further until she’d had a chance to calm down. “Let’s get you into a nice warm bath; see if that helps.”

At Linnea’s words, Mia strode quickly into the bathroom and began to fill the large tub with warm water and bubbles. She added several drops of calming oils, and laid two large, fluffy towels within reach. Then she retrieved a soft bathrobe from the cabinet and carried it out to Quinn.

Mia and Linnea worked together to gently help Quinn out of the sweaty and tear-stained shirt she had worn to the crumple game. As she pulled the sleeve over Quinn’s arm, Linnea gasped. Just above Quinn’s elbow, a large reddish-purple bruise was beginning to bloom. The distinctive outlines of someone’s fingers curled around the back of Quinn’s arm.

“Quinn! Who did this to you?” Linnea demanded.

Quinn opened her mouth, as if to speak, but then closed it again. Tears were flowing freely down her face again.

Linnea felt as if the floor were dropping out from underneath her. “Was it Tolliver?”

Quinn’s expression was fearful; she dropped her eyes to the floor and gave one short nod, the silent tears hot and flowing heavily. A wave of searing heat washed over Linnea’s entire body.

“Mia, stay here.” She held her voice deliberately calm.  “Quinn, I’ll be right back.” She didn’t wait for a response before she flew from the room.

She found William and Thomas together, in what was technically Thomas’ room, but they both slept here while William was at home. Their casual banter and laughter stopped the instant they both registered the expression on Linnea’s face.

“What is it,
Nay
?” Thomas crossed the large room in four quick steps.

“William,
It’s
Quinn. Tolliver...”

“Tolliver what?”

“I... I don’t know what he did. But she has this horrible bruise on her arm...” Thomas and William both took off at a run.

*          *          *

“Hey, Quinn,” Despite the anger that threatened to choke him, William made his voice as quiet and gentle as he could as he eased himself slowly on to the bed next to her.

The girl was calm now, sort of, though dried stains from tears ran down both of her cheeks. Mia had wrapped a thick robe around her, though she still wore her jeans underneath. “Is it okay if I take a look at your arm?”

It took her a second to respond; he could tell she was trying desperately to keep herself calm, and he waited patiently. He didn’t want to upset her further. Finally, she took a deep breath and nodded. William used an extremely light touch to lift up the long, loose sleeve of Quinn’s robe. He swallowed hard, trying to hold onto his composure. “This is Tolliver’s hand print?”

She nodded again and his stomach rolled, as his bubbling anger was joined with a thrill of panic. What had Tolliver done? He’d let this girl follow him to his world, and then not managed to keep her safe?

William sent up a quick prayer before he asked the next question. Across the bed, he could see his emotions reflected in Thomas’ and Linnea’s eyes.

“Did he hurt you anywhere else?”
Please say no, please say no …

“No,” Quinn’s voice was small, but the relief in the room was tangible, as everyone was able to breathe again.

“Did he do ... anything else to you?”

“No,” Quinn swallowed as fresh tears began pouring down, “he tried to pull me toward his room, but I ... got away.”

William flashed a look at Thomas and gave one quick nod.

“Stay here, Linnea.” He commanded as Thomas disappeared through the door. He needed Linnea here; he couldn’t do this on his own.

“Mia, can you please bring me some ice from the kitchen?” William asked.

“Certainly, Master William.”

“Linnea, the salve in the bathroom, please?” Quickly, he added mentally. The injury he knew what to do about – Quinn’s tears were another matter altogether. He felt a pang of envy for Thomas and his older brothers, who were going to have the opportunity to confront that … William didn’t have the right word.

Linnea seemed to understand the urgency – or else she didn’t want to leave the girl alone, either. She reappeared only a few seconds later with the small tin.

 “I’m sorry,” Quinn whispered, as he carefully began to rub the soothing balm onto her bruise.

A sudden flash of fire blazed in William’s eyes. She was
sorry
? He was going to need something to hit when he was done here. “You have nothing to be sorry for. Don’t you ever apologize for
this.
We are the ones who should be sorry for failing to protect you from that ... poor excuse for a human being.” It still wasn’t a strong enough sentiment, but it was going to have to do in front of Quinn.

*          *          *

Thomas didn’t have the patience to wait for a response to his banging on the door of the guest suite that Tolliver was occupying this week. He threw open the door and stormed into the sitting room, followed closely by Simon and Maxwell. A quick glance at the tidy couches and the recently-dusted tables told them that the room was empty. The brothers quickly separated to check the rest of the apartment.

Thomas had barely stepped inside the large, immaculate bathroom when he heard Maxwell calling from the bedroom, in a tone that sent a cold sense of dread running through Thomas’ veins.

“Simon! Thomas! You’d better come in here!”

Tolliver’s bedroom stood in sharp contrast to the rest of the apartment. The heavy curtains were drawn shut, leaving the room looking as dark and dank as it smelled from the collection of empty wine glasses that lined the surfaces of the tables and dressers, and from the disheveled sheets on the bed, which looked like they hadn’t been changed once during Tolliver’s stay. Curled up among the tangle of bedclothes was a girl. She was slight and pale, with thick black hair all the way to her waist. Her left eye was a horrible mottled purple and red, nearly swollen shut. She looked younger than Linnea.

Thomas was grateful that Simon seemed composed enough to cautiously approach her. “Who are you?”

“I am … Irene,” the girl shrank back as she spoke in a thick, unfamiliar accent. The look in her eyes reminded Thomas of a frightened rabbit.

“Did Tolliver bring you here?”

The girl didn’t answer; she only looked down, beginning to tremble as the terror in her eyes grew. Thomas thought he might be sick. He walked slowly to the side of the bed, hoping not to frighten her further. He spoke in a low voice. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. We won’t harm you.”

The girl’s head stayed down; her trembling grew stronger. Where are you from?”

The girl looked up, not with trust, but with resignation in her eyes. “I am a servant in his castle.”

“Why did he bring you here?”

Irene only shrugged, casting her eyes back down toward the floor. Thomas had to choke back the sudden bile that came into his throat.

“Did he do this to you?”

The girl didn’t look up.

“Thomas,” Simon’s voice was low, “you and Max take her to Nathaniel. I will find Father.”

Maxwell disappeared for a moment, and then returned with a heavy robe for the girl to put on over her thin nightgown.

“Irene, will you come with us, please?” Thomas asked softly.

Irene’s eyes widened in terror. “Are you taking me prisoner?”

Thomas was taken aback, “Of course not! Why would you think that?”

“Tolliver said ... if I were discovered here, in your castle, that I would be captured … that I would never see my family again.”

Fierce, white-hot anger coursed through Thomas. It took everything he had to keep his voice steady. “It isn’t true, Irene. That isn’t the way we treat anyone in Eirentheos. We’re only taking you to see a doctor … a healer. He will look at your injuries; make sure you are all right. You are safe now.” After a long moment, Irene allowed Thomas and Maxwell to lead her out of the apartment. Thomas wasn’t sure whether she believed that she was safe, or if she was merely resigned to whatever fate was in store. He noticed that she limped as she walked.

*          *          *

Thomas and his father both looked up in stony silence as the office door opened, and Simon and Maxwell entered the room.

“He is not in the castle, Father,” Simon’s eyes were hard. “Joss in the stables reports that he had his horse readied a while ago and he left. Nobody has seen him since.”

“Thank you, Son,” King Stephen sighed, then turned a stern look to Thomas, who had stood.

“Sit down, Thomas. You are not going after him. He’ll turn up, eventually. And when he does,” Stephen added, likely noting the glint in his son’s eye, “you’ll stay away from him.”

“But Father...”

“Thomas, it’s not a request. Tolliver is a prince of Philotheum.”

“Not rightfully.”

“Rightfully, he is not the heir to the throne, no. However, his mother came to be the queen honestly with her marriage to a proper king. All of her sons have the right to the title of prince. As to the issue of the throne, it doesn’t matter how we feel about it; it is a separate issue from how we deal with Tolliver now. As long as Hector is Prince Regent of Philotheum and is holding Tolliver up as the heir, we have little choice regarding our treatment of him.”

“But he...”

“I am aware of what he has done, Thomas. It is becoming painfully clear what kind of behavior is acceptable in that castle these days. However, our political alliance with Philotheum is on tenuous ground as it is. It is not within our rights to punish another kingdom’s prince.”

“So you’re just going to do nothing? Let him get away with it?”

“Not
nothing
, Thomas. The girl, Irene, is safe now. Her injuries will be treated. She will not be returned to Tolliver’s castle, and we will do what we can to reunite her with her family. They will be offered asylum here in Eirentheos if necessary. She will be offered a position here in our castle, if she would like one.”

“And Quinn?”

The sudden flash of fury that appeared in Stephen’s eye right then placated Thomas just a little; his father was just as upset as he was. “Quinn will be given the highest level of protection, as will your sisters. None of them are to be alone at any time, until after Tolliver has departed back to Philotheum. Guards will be placed near each hallway and staircase that leads to our family quarters. None of the girls are to be anywhere outside of our private corridors without a male escort. I trust that the three of you are up to the job?”

“Yes Father,” the brothers answered simultaneously.

“Quinn is not to be left alone in any circumstance, unless she specifically asks for privacy. I can’t imagine how upsetting this must be for her,” Thomas didn’t understand the look that crossed his father’s eyes now. “I will ask Linnea to sleep on a cot in Quinn’s room tonight.”

“I am sure she won’t mind, Father. I’ll ask her, if she hasn’t already come to that decision on her own.”

“Thank you, Thomas.”

Stephen sighed. “I am going to go and talk to your mother now. I am sure you can expect quite the visit upstairs once she has heard about all this.”

“Yes, Father.”

Long vines covered with tiny white blossoms were strung along the lengths of the pews in the large chapel at the edge of the castle grounds. There were thirteen white candles lit at the end of each pew and white-and-purple linen banners draped down from the upper balcony.  The long, wide room was awash in a gentle diffused sunlight, streaming in from tall windows along every wall; all halfway open to let in the warm summer breeze that drifted through the surrounding gardens, leaving the entire chapel smelling of the hundreds of sweet flowers. Soft music could be heard from outside as well, from where the musicians had set up for the party.

Quinn followed Linnea down the long, stone aisle, which had been lined with a thick, purple runner, bordered with silver thread. Thomas and William walked closely behind.

“Are you sure I should be here?” Quinn asked quietly.

“For the hundredth time, Quinn, yes. We want you here. Tolliver still hasn’t been seen; his horse is still missing from the stable.” Linnea’s voice was firm.

“And even if he does show up, he doesn’t get to ruin any more of your time here. We’ll find a safe spot for you to be able to watch the ceremony,” Thomas’ eyes were both kind and determined. “And then, you’ll be with us again for the party.”

Quinn watched silently from her hidden viewing spot above an alcove in the side wall. The guests who had been gathering at the castle for the past several days were formally announced as they entered and filed in along the center rows of pews. The outer rows had already filled with castle servants and other less-distinguished guests of the royal family. She’d watched as Mia had edged her way as close to the front as was possible. The upper balcony had filled quickly with villagers and their guests.

To one side of the center platform was a long line of chairs. Once all of the guests had been seated, the royal children were announced as they
proceeded
one-by-one down the center aisle. They were presented in order of age, beginning with Simon, except for tiny Sarah who was carried down the aisle by Rebecca.

Then the ceremony officially began. A tall, older man in long white robes walked to the center of the dais, and began addressing the crowd in a droning monotone, pontificating as much on his own importance as on the sacredness of the Naming Ceremony.

“It’s an even more beautiful view from over here.” The disembodied voice came from behind Quinn and she spun quickly to see what or who was there.  

“Don’t worry, milady, I don’t bite -- at least not without being asked.” Quinn was startled; peeking down from a ledge about halfway up the side of the alcove was the face of a man. His long, flowing white hair signaled age, but his face was free of the lines and wrinkles that usually accompanied the years. His green eyes sparkled with friendliness under his bushy, white eyebrows.  He extended his hand toward Quinn, clearly intending that she join him up there. She looked down at the dress she was wearing and then back at the man.

“No one will see you, and don’t fuss about me; I’m a complete gentleman.” The last words were accompanied by a teasing grin that threatened to split the man’s face in two. Quinn hesitated for a moment, but then decided to accept the offer. She let out a soft gasp. From the ledge, she could see over the top of the whole crowd. It was a perfect view of the entire chapel.

“Much better,” the old man smiled approvingly.

The two turned their attention back to the ceremony, though the action on the dais now was somewhat less exciting than watching grass grow.

“Curse me! That pompous windbag needs to get over himself,” the man said, causing Quinn to chuckle quietly. She and the old man stood there quietly watching together for a few more minutes while the speech ended and the “pompous windbag” stepped to a seat along the side of the dais, waiting until he was needed again.  

The music took on a more celebratory tone and a herald stepped forward and called the court to witness.  The king was announced and he entered, taking his place by the small altar in the center of the platform.  The queen and “the blessed gift of the Maker” were then announced, and the queen came in, carrying her thirteenth child. The girl was placed lovingly into the small cradle on the platform and each of her siblings was called up in turn to bestow on her their gift.

Emma enchanted the crowd when it was her turn, marching confidently up to the cradle with her small silver box in hand, and planting a kiss on the baby’s cheek. Little Sarah could not be persuaded to part with her own shiny package, and was quickly returned to Rebecca’s lap still holding it, before her impending storm could disrupt the ceremony.

Once all of the siblings had taken their seats again, the room fell completely silent and the “pompous windbag” began collecting himself to rise.

“That’s my cue,” the man on the ledge said with a grin, and he hopped down to stride into the room, and right up onto the dais, into the middle of the ceremony. Pompous windbag looked beet-faced and horrified, but quickly took his seat in defeat, as the room echoed with whispers of ‘Alvin’.

Quinn had no idea what was going on.

“My king,” Alvin bowed. “My Queen,” he bowed again, but for a bit longer. “My princess.” He bent and placed a gentle kiss on the baby’s forehead, before taking her into his arms. A hush fell over the crowd as Alvin turned to them, holding the infant.

“We are here today to give this baby a name and a blessing that she may be known by her family and her people and that she may serve the Maker and her kingdom in heath, strength and wisdom.”

“The name she will be known by is Hannah Eden Rose.  Hannah, you are a special child, and the Maker knows you and loves you. You were lovingly created by your Maker, with a special purpose to serve for him, for your family, and for your people.

You occupy a special position in your family, and I have come here today to bestow upon you a special gift. Your siblings each have their own gifts, those that are required as the keys of the kingdom, From wise leadership to compassionate healing and even understanding how to work with plants and animals, all of these gifts are essential to maintaining a kingdom in service to the Maker, blessed and beloved by the Maker.  His greatest blessing, however, to this kingdom, to your family’s kingdom, Hannah, is you.”

At these words, Alvin reached into the pocket of his long purple robes, and withdrew a tiny silver circle, hanging from a small chain. “Hannah Eden Rose, blessed child of the Maker, I bestow upon you His gift, which you will carry all of your days. Though the name of your gift has no translation in the languages of people, the blessings it carries are both universal and eternal.

 May your gift bring true blessings upon this house, upon this kingdom, and upon all of our Maker’s people whose lives intersect with
yours.
”

Alvin placed the baby lovingly into her mother’s arms before fastening the chain around her neck. He again kissed the baby’s forehead, and then kissed Queen Charlotte’s forehead as well. The king moved in close beside the queen, placing his hand on his daughter’s head.

Alvin turned to face the crowd. “Beloved,” he began, “Your kingdom is truly blessed to have the leadership of a family so dedicated to ruling in the Maker’s ways. Always support your king and each other, remembering that each of you is truly beloved in the eyes of the Maker.”

“Now,” he continued, “I hear there’s a fantastic party waiting outside.” Alvin turned, and walked off the dais, effectively ending the ceremony.

The family remained in their places while the guests filed out.

Quinn couldn’t see where Alvin went after he left the platform. She supposed he was leading the crowd outside. So she was surprised when he appeared suddenly back in the entrance of the alcove, standing directly below her, hidden from the view of everyone else.

“Need a hand down, Lady Quinn?” Alvin asked, reaching up toward her.

Quinn frowned; she hadn’t told him her name. She did take his hand, and he surprised her again when he picked her up under her arms and placed her easily on the floor.

“Quinn!” Thomas was walking toward her, weaving quickly through the departing crowd. He stopped short when he saw her standing with Alvin. “I … see you’ve met Alvin.”

“Oh yes,” Alvin’s smile was wide, “Quinn and I are fast becoming dear friends. May I have the honor of escorting you outside, dear lady?”

Quinn glanced uncertainly at Thomas, who smiled and nodded.

*          *          *

 Outside, the gardens were overflowing with decorations. Small, white tables and chairs had been set up all around a large stone-paved circle that had been cleared for dancing.

Alvin walked with her all the way to the circle, stopping just before they intersected with the small number of couples already twirling in time to the music, and then he turned to her. “May I have the honor of your first dance?”

“I don’t know how...”

“You’ll be fine; just
follow
the music.” his words were filled with confident reassurance and Quinn fell into step as best she could trying to mimic the other dancers.

“How are you enjoying your visit in Eirentheos?”

Quinn wasn’t sure how to answer; she assumed he’d heard the story about her visiting from a neighboring kingdom.

“It’s lovely.”

“And what is your favorite part?”

Her eyes glanced quickly to where much of the royal family had gathered. A smile spread across her face as she thought of a coy answer.

“I think that the flowers are beautiful.”

Alvin’s wide smile brightened and his step took on a livelier energy.

“I love flowers,” he replied. “They are so different and varied. There are so many different colors, shapes, designs. Each serves its own unique purpose, every variety complementing the others. I think the Maker had an especially fun time creating the flowers.”

His eyes twinkled as continued. “Take the rose for example; allowed to grow wild it will quickly become a bramble of thorns. If cultivated properly, however, it becomes strong and enduring.  It will survive the harshest weather and you can cut it down as far as you like; it will grow back and blossom.”

“Contrast that with say, a dandelion. When cultivated, it grows quite strong; yet it always retains its wild qualities, and when left to grow wild, it unleashes its hearty spirit, vibrant colors and indomitable nature. Its seeds are plentiful and spread far and wide, taking root wherever they land. Left unchecked, though, the dandelion is a weed that chokes out the life of all the plants around it, and then continues to spread its seeds, far past the gardener’s original intent.”

The music ended and Quinn realized she hadn’t even noticed the last part of the song; it had been so easy to follow along as she listened to Alvin.

“Now my dear I do believe that young master Thomas is waiting to share the floor with you next.” He kissed her on the cheek, and handed her over to Thomas who had appeared next to her.

“Is Alvin filling your head with his wild stories Quinn?” Thomas asked, as the musicians struck up a new, slower tune.

“His views on the qualities of flowers actually,” she replied, her eyebrows furrowed thoughtfully, “but I don’t understand any of it. Which I suppose fits in just fine since I haven’t understood much of anything going on around me since I arrived.”

Thomas laughed. “I can’t imagine how strange this must all be for you. You’re handling it better than I would, I think.”

“So, is Alvin another uncle?”

“No. Alvin...” he said, almost laughing. “Alvin is just... Alvin. He’s always been around. Some say he’s a prophet of some kind. He’s just...there whenever he decides he needs to be. I’ve seen him at a few royal naming ceremonies and he does exactly what he did today. He just appears, steps in, and names the baby... but not every time. He showed up at the naming of the candle maker’s little boy. Sometimes, he jumps in and starts officiating in the middle of a wedding.

“Once, I heard about him showing up at a villager’s dinner table – he even brought his own plate.  You can’t expect him to come, or even find him to invite him. The only thing you can predict with Alvin is that everything he says has some sort of meaning.”

Quinn’s eyes were wide. “Wow...there really is no end to the surprises, is there?”

“How else would we keep lovely ladies guessing?” Thomas’ eyes sparkled as he twirled Quinn around and they both laughed.

Quinn felt Thomas stiffen a second before she heard the voice.

“Now Thomas, didn’t anyone ever teach you that it’s not polite to be selfish with your toys? I think it’s high time you shared such a lovely little plaything.”

Her breathing accelerated as she realized that Tolliver was standing directly behind her. A wave of nausea rolled over her when she felt his hand stroking her hair.

Suddenly, Thomas’ fist flew past her head, connecting squarely with Tolliver’s nose. In the next instant, Quinn felt herself being pulled to the side as Tolliver came up raging.

“Who do you think you are, Thomas?” Tolliver demanded, before returning the punch, slamming Thomas in the mouth. “I am the heir to the throne of Philotheum. I will not be treated this way by a royal brat from this weak excuse for a country! Is one little courtesan really worth this much to you? A war?”