Authors: Meghan Ciana Doidge
She reached out. The carpet floated closer, and she touched that spot on his neck she found she adored, whether or not she was in the position to do so.
He closed his eyes, sighed, and touched his fingertips, so, so lightly, to the inner part of her wrist. It was dark enough now that she couldn’t read the expression on his face.
“Until tomorrow,” he murmured, and stepped away as if releasing her. Indeed, she found she just wanted to return to her room and the promised hot bath.
The rising sun called Theo from a deep slumber, and she marveled at the pure energy as it rose over the mountains like a gift from Spirit itself.
She stood on the east-facing balcony and raised her face in prayer, in thanks. She’d made it through yesterday, and the week before. She was here on her own two feet, and slowly gaining control over her memories and powers, all of them, not just a portion allowed to her by another. She felt blessed.
She could also feel the sleepy castle around her, with most of its morning activity buzzing around the kitchens.
She inhaled sunlight and opened her palms as if to draw the energy through her skin. The warmth filled and surrounded her; any of the physical aches she’d woken with released, and she stood, solid and steady, with the stone of the castle beneath her feet, and the stone of the mountain beneath that. She felt unshakeable, at least in this moment. She could almost feel the wounded and scarred pathways of her brain healing, though they were not whole yet; perhaps too much had been torn asunder to ever truly be healed. There were bits and pieces of herself she’d never get back, but maybe some of that was for the best.
She touched the stone wall of the balcony. It was already warming under the early sun. She felt the magic, hundreds of years of magic, embedded in every stone of the castle. Layers upon layers of construction, fortification, and protection spells were entwined here, but they were disjointed, unrelated to each other. She reached out. She instinctively opened the magic of the castle to the pure energy of the sun. Without even knowing she could do so, she smoothed the spells until they sunk into the stone to become one with each other and the very fabric of the castle. While doing this, she brushed by strains of magic much different from hers, and took a taste of each. This spirit had existed here a thousand years before, it just needed someone to connect it all …
She opened her eyes, and saw that the stone underneath her hand was glowing, just a slight silvering, but beautiful nonetheless. She removed her hand and watched the glow absorb into the stone.
She could swear the castle sighed in contentment.
She could feel when other people began to rise in earnest, and thought she might like to break bread with them this morning, so she turned back into her room to dress.
Natalie, whose peaceful energy had also greeted her the morning before, stood at the foot of the bed anxiously twisting her hands. She’d laid out a pretty, though plain, gown for Theo to wear. The dress was paired with a belt made with what seemed to be hundreds silk ribbons woven together.
“The Chancellor … The Chancellor,” Natalie stuttered.
“Would like me to be a bit more presentable?”
“Yy …Yessss … he thought it would good to remember, to remember —”
“That I am not only a warrior?”
Natalie sighed and nodded with the relief of having the message delivered.
Theo fingered the beautiful belt. “I imagine he wants me to wear my hair down?”
“Yes, my lady, though I told him it wasn’t a style suited to a lady of your age and stature.”
“I’m sure he took that well.” Theo laughed at the thought of a chambermaid correcting the Chancellor. “But it’s not about that at all. It’s about my heritage and how he will position himself with me at his side.”
“I don’t know about that, my lady, but your hair washed up lovely last night, and if I brush it a hundred times or so it will shine like that sun shines.”
Theo gave in to Natalie’s ministrations and sat at the dressing table to allow her to do her work. She noted that Natalie’s spirit was dormant even when she was awake, though it glowed almost imperceptibly around her hands and eyes while she worked on Theo’s hair. She wondered if Natalie felt its presence at all. She wondered if Natalie had always dreamt of being a lady’s maid or if her parents had just worked in the castle. She realized that she was oddly curious about the girl, and wondered what drew her interest, but she refused to pluck the answers from Natalie’s mind.
“I’ll need an outfit for sparring after breakfast.”
“Oh. You’ll return to the field then? The castle was buzzing about your, your —”
“Performance yesterday?”
“No, my lady, your … your spirit.” This last word was said with utter reverence and utter sadness, though Natalie did not look up from brushing her hair.
“I am no deity, Natalie,” Theo said, more harshly than she’d intended.
“No, my lady … I can see you breathe, you … you … hurt, but you are not the same as the rest of us, certainly not the same as Lackings.”
Ah, there it was … Natalie did doubt her own magic.
Hugh burst into the room with such force he might have dented the door.
“Absolutely not!” he roared, and began to pace. “You are not a … a …”
“Prize?”
Hugh seemed slightly surprised to find Theo sitting at the dressing table, as if he hadn’t thought to look for her in his frustration. “Yes! A prize to be paraded about like … like …”
“I would prefer to be a prize rather than a burden,” she murmured, while she watched Hugh in the dressing table mirror. Natalie had squeaked at his entrance, but quickly resumed her brushing once she assessed he wasn’t an immediate threat. Hugh’s shirt was sloppy, as if he’d just thrown it on, and his hair was a little flattened on one side. He stopped his pacing and looked at her directly with a furrowed brow.
“Burden?”
Theo rose from the dressing table. His eyes widened, perhaps because she was only wearing a shift.
“I … I … you … aren’t.”
He stepped away as she crossed to the bed and the gown laid out for her there. Natalie followed, though she kept her eyes downcast; it seemed Hugh’s father enforced the same rules for his servants as her mother did.
“Over the shift, Natalie?” she asked.
“Yes, my lady. It’s clean from last night. The neck shouldn’t be too low for it.” Natalie reached for the gown and Hugh stumbled back.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t think.”
“That I would be dressing?”
“I thought … my father’s demands —”
“Were they demands? Natalie relayed them as requests.”
“What right has he to —”
“This is his castle, isn’t it? Not yours yet. Therefore I am under his protection. He certainly has the same rights as any would in that situation.”
Hugh seemed to have run out of indignation. “I … I … took it differently,” he admitted.
“I’m not saying there aren’t layers to the request.”
“There are always layers,” Hugh smiled.
“You know as well as I,” she murmured, and raised her arms for Natalie to pull the gown on over her head. Hugh had resumed his pacing, but did so more thoughtfully now.
“They aren’t going to let us sit out the game,” he said.
“Would you want to?”
He thought about his answer. “Yes, honestly. If that was an option … if running away with you was an option.”
“So I am not only a burden?”
Natalie quit fussing with the placement and twist of the belt, and discreetly drifted back to the dressing table.
Hugh stepped closer and swept his eyes over her with a quirk of a smile. “Not only a burden,” he agreed, and then he fished a jeweled box out of his pocket with a resigned sigh. “Since you are willing to play the game, this was to be yours. Your sixteenth birthday gift. An engagement gift. Father would like to see you wearing it now.”
Hugh glanced, ever so briefly, at the promise mark on her inner forearm; the gown had short sleeves.
“No one will assume it isn’t yours,” she lamely offered.
“It isn’t mine,” Hugh brusquely replied, and all but thrust the box at her.
She took it. It contained an enormous clear diamond set in a white gold ring. She looked to Hugh, but he was already moving toward the door.
“I’ll escort you to breakfast. Just let me find my boots.” He spoke over his shoulder as he reached for the still open door, and, indeed, Theo noticed that he wasn’t wearing any shoes.
She handed the jeweled box to Natalie, who seemed awed to handle it, and placed the beautiful ring on her own finger … this action came with a sizing spell and a hollow feeling.
Hugh had paused to watch her from the doorway. Some of his earlier stiffness had faded. “It was my mother’s.”
“It is my pleasure to wear it then,” she responded formally.
He nodded and turned away. Then he spoke without looking at her. “I would have been the one, ten years ago, to place it on your finger, but with your mark, even faded as it is …”
Her mark.
She was so silly to feel hollow. If Hugh had formally offered the ring … Well, she wasn’t certain what would have happened, but she did remember the pain that had shot through her head when they’d kissed outside her bedroom. She hadn’t thought about the cause then with everything that had been happening, but now that the mark had revealed itself …
She looked up from the diamond nestled on her right hand. “And I would have accepted, ten years ago,” she finally responded.
Hugh nodded, and then left.
Natalie held a ribbon up for her hair, and Theo allowed herself to be distracted from Hugh, the ring, and the mark that sat uncomfortably on her forearm. But, as uncomfortable as it was, it was still there, still evidence of Ren’s claim and her acceptance.
∞
More days passed, but what felt like weeks of battling her memories and absorbing her powers was probably only about three days. Three days where she only felt close to peace with her sword in her hand, the sand beneath her feet, and the sun on her face. She could barely eat breakfast, for all the energy of all the castle’s inhabitants was gathered too closely. She tried to avoid conversations with the Chancellor that Hugh also attempted to buffer. Then there was more sparring, and more blessings, until no one stood before her. She’d carved herself through the warriors and back again. No one was left to fight.
It wasn’t even noon on the third day.
She tried to tamp down the rising panic. It compressed her chest as she waited for someone, for anyone, to offer their steel, but the warriors were winded and bruised.
Still, she waited.
The crowd began to shift. They had been coming and going all day, more circumspect with their attendance, as the Chancellor had been clear that the castle still needed to run smoothly, “Despite the display the Lady of Light was putting on in the yard.” Theo’s discomfort grew stronger and stronger, and she had a feeling she might be emanating it into the now-restless crowd.
She didn’t realize she was on her knees until the boy from the stables pushed his cup of water into her hands. She spilt half the contents in her first attempt to get it to her lips. The boy steadied her hand with his, and, with his other hand pressed to the back of her head, he guided the cup to her mouth.
She felt his utter trust like a light breeze blowing through her mind.
That he would touch her, that he would risk the potential magical backlash, was almost wondrous.
She reached out and touched her fingertips to his cheek.
He was so young … maybe seven. “Bryan,” she named him.
“Yes, my lady,” he responded, and didn’t move away.
“I see you.” His eyes widened in amazement, but she could indeed see his spirit, especially where it danced underneath her fingers still touching his cheek. This spirit of his loved animals, and contained a great — and currently untapped — ability to heal and care for them. His position in the stables, despite his youth, became obvious.
But he was just too young … and his clothing wasn’t well tended.
“Where are your parents, Bryan?”
That question caused him to drop his eyes to the cup clutched in his hands … a reminder of home … cherished and now shared …
“Dead?” she pushed.
He nodded and allowed her access to his memory of them, even if he didn’t realize he’d offered it up.
So, yes. Both of his parents were dead. Within months of each other. His mother in childbirth, which made no sense when healers should be available in every village, and his father, in a, perhaps grief-fueled, farming accident six months ago. Bryan had come to the castle with his newborn sister, Rose, after he’d figured out he had no idea how to care for the babe. They’d taken the children in, but … who was actually looking after the boy?
“Have you met Lord Madoc’s amazing horse?”
Bryan’s eyes flew up to hers; he knew exactly what horse she spoke of, but … he wasn’t supposed to bother the horses. She smiled at the bits of excited memory he practically flung her way. “I think you will find him a magnificent beast.”
“Magical,” the boy breathed and she laughed. So he had met the Beast, whether he was supposed to or not.
“You can feel that, can you?”
The boy nodded.
“Good. We will introduce you to Lord Madoc, then. He will want someone with your magic to be tending his horse.”
The boy couldn’t speak; fear and anticipation seemed to hold his tongue, so Theo simply kissed his cheek lightly. He shuddered as the weight of her blessing settled on him. In order to bring the boy under her protection in a way that would transcend her death, she had tied him to her, just lightly, but he still felt it. It was the first time she’d willingly bound herself to any person, and she felt the rightness of it.
Bryan raised a hand to his cheek to touch the spot she’d kissed, and an utterly spirit-filled smile spread over his grimy face. He understood. He transferred his hand from his cheek to her own. She felt the tingle of his utter acceptance of her offer.
“And my sister,” he asked humbly.