The Spinner and the Slipper (10 page)

The hours flew swiftly past. Everyone grew louder, attempting to make their voices heard, until the deafening roar throbbed in Eliana’s ears. Nausea slithered in her stomach and slid up her throat. The air was thick with the stench of a hundred and more people gathered in too small a place, making it difficult for her to breathe.

The oak-leaf man touched her arm in concern. “Are you feeling unwell?”

Eliana tried bravely to brush off the nausea and take a step. But the dizziness returned tenfold. She shook her head slowly. “I’m sorry. The heat . . .”

“Let us step outside into the garden then,” said he. “Fresh air should set you right.”

Once escaped from the thunderous sounds and the smells, Eliana could breathe and think again. She drew a deep breath and slumped down onto a bench beside a trellis of sweet peas. The pretty pink flowers looked red in the torchlight, and the man’s mask took on a magical gleam. She could see his eyes sparkling through the eye holes.

“Thank you so much,” she said, still sounding a little weak. “It was suffocating in there.”

“It is my pleasure, dear lady. Considering this is your first ball, you have done quite well. I did not last so long my first time!”

“How long did you last?”

He laughed. “I ran off before the herald finished introducing me.”

Eliana laughed as well, covering her mouth with her hand. It felt odd to have the mask on, but she dared not take it off. No one was supposed to remove their masks until the third night Reveal.

The man took a seat on the bench beside her and leaned his head far back, gazing up into the sky. “The stars are beautiful tonight,” he whispered.

Eliana followed his upward gaze to see the clear dark blanket of night. Constellations shone brightly like falling snowflakes. “I’ve never seen the sky so clear before,” she said. Where she had grown up, the forests were too thick for such an astral view.

“Now that is a shame,” said her companion. He smiled at her suddenly and, standing, held out his hand. “I was wondering, if I might be so bold . . . Would you honor me with this dance, my lady?”

The music was still audible over the ruckus inside. The strings hummed and the horns sang low. It was a spritely air that sang to Eliana’s very heart! Her feet could not resist, and she accepted his outstretched hand, allowing him to pull her lightly to her feet.

Few men had ever danced with her before. Her father did not count, since she’d been a little girl, hardly up to his waist, and he’d been teaching her. She still felt like a little girl, for her head scarcely reached this man’s shoulder, and she tripped over his feet once or twice. But he did not correct her. He only smiled with great enthusiasm as if she were the greatest dancer in the world and it was a pleasure simply to be with her.

Eliana felt her heart stir with an emotion both familiar and unfamiliar all at once. What was this feeling? Was it love? Certainly not the deep love that couples often marry for; that sort of love takes a little more time. But it might be the kind of love someone feels when meeting with genuine kindness after months and years of receiving no affection at all.

The music slowed and faded from their hearing. The oak-leaf man smiled and bowed elegantly, sweeping his short cape like the wings of a pretty songbird. Eliana laughed and curtsied back, a more graceful curtsy than she’d ever before managed. Something about this man and his nearness gave her confidence and, in turn, grace.

“Thus concludes my time here with you, Lady Eliana,” said her companion. “I’m afraid I must be going.”

“Oh. You are leaving me?” Eliana wished she could somehow retrieve the words, embarrassed that she would speak so boldly.

But the oak-leaf man’s eyes glinted behind his bronze mask. “I could never leave you,” he said, his voice strangely deep and serious. “But I must depart for now. I promise to return tomorrow. And in the meanwhile . . .”

He took Eliana by the hand. The next instant, something cool slipped onto her finger.

“To remember me by,” the oak-leaf man whispered.

Eliana blinked. In that brief lowering of her lashes, he vanished. Though she looked all around the garden for him, she saw not even the briefest glimpse of his fluttering cloak or a gleam of light shining off his mask. From somewhere distant she heard the toll of a distant church bell booming out the hour: twelve deep, rolling tones.

Eliana looked down at her hand. There on her finger gleamed a bright gold ring.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Forgotten Memories

The stroke of twelve resounded in the mortal world, and the rolling vibrations rippled through time and space. A doorway opened between worlds, and the faerie captain, no longer clad in festival finery, stepped back into the darkness of his dungeon cell.

Queen Titania sat upon a lowly bench waiting for him. Her presence made that bench seem like a throne.

“Well, brave swain?” said she, smiling to see him appear. “You have fulfilled your part of this bargain and returned no later than midnight. But how were those intermittent hours whiled away? Satisfactorily, I trust?”

The nameless faerie took the oak-leaf mask from his face. The moment he did so, it fell into pieces, dried oak leaves drifting to the ground at his feet. His expression, now revealed, was not full of the happy smiles Titania had anticipated.

“I don’t think it worked,” he said sadly, forgetting to bow in the presence of his queen. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “I placed the ring upon her finger, and I hoped the power of her mother’s gift would be enough to counter King Oberon’s spell. But I don’t believe she remembered me.”

Titania’s lovely face twisted in a momentary scowl. Then she shook this away with a smile more brilliant than usual. “Well, it was worth a try. And I have more tricks up my sleeve!”

So saying, she moved her trailing sleeve, revealing the shining object upon which the green-eyed faerie had been working the last several days of his imprisonment. “Coming along nicely, I should say,” she purred, touching it lightly with one finger. “Will the other be ready by the time I stipulated?”

“I believe so, Your Majesty,” the green-eyed faerie said. “As long as—”

He broke off when Titania sat suddenly upright, one hand upraised. The next instant, his queen vanished, her body blending into the stones of the wall and the floor, her hair becoming nothing more than moss and lichen. She disappeared so completely that the green-eyed man almost forgot she had been sitting there at all. He opened his mouth, puzzled, uncertain what to say or do . . .

The dungeon door opened behind him. King Oberon’s voice spoke: “Well, captain, have you learned your lesson?”

A thrill of terror electrified the captain so that he momentarily could neither speak or move. Then he whirled and bowed deeply to his king, who stood in the doorway, arms folded. “Your Majesty!” he exclaimed. “I—I—”

“Certainly is gloomy enough in here,” said King Oberon, looking around the cell, his mouth curled with distaste. “How long have I had you holed up? I forget.”

“Well,” said the captain. He didn’t want to say that the time had been nowhere near so long as he’d expected. Nor did he want to say that it was ages, for he hated to lie.

King Oberon did not seem to expect an answer. “I need you back on duty,” he said. “No one keeps the men in line as well as you do, and I don’t want to be caught short-handed should the goblins decide to pay us an unwelcome visit. So if you’ve quite learned to behave yourself, I’ll let you out. Agreed?”

The nameless faerie bowed again, his deepest, most graceful bow. “I will endeavor in all things to conduct myself with honor and integrity,” he said with deep sincerity.

Satisfied, Oberon beckoned him out. He did not seem to notice that his man no longer wore the heavy fetters with which he himself had bound him. His mind was occupied with the intrigues of the faerie court, both big and small, and he could not even fully recall why he had punished his captain in the first place.

So the two of them exited the dungeons and climbed the winding stairs. When they had gone, a certain patch of stones, shadows, and moss resolved back into the lovely face and form of Titania.

She laughed to herself with utmost delight. There was nothing in all the worlds she enjoyed more than thwarting her husband’s tyrannical will! Indeed, she knew he would not love her half so well if she were not skilled at making his life difficult.

What a delicious game this had turned into!

“Oh, my lady! Did you have the most wonderful time?”

Eliana, relieved to find only Martha waiting for her when she at last returned to the quiet of her own rooms, sank into a chair and pulled the mask from her face. Seeing how flushed her lady was, Martha hastened to bring her a glass of water, which Eliana accepted gratefully.

“Was it more beautiful than beautiful?” Martha asked, eager for details. “I tried to sneak to the balcony rail and get a peek, but the housekeeper saw me and shooed me away. I heard the music though! And I glimpsed some of the fine ladies in their gowns. It must have been a garden of delights!”

No answer presented itself to Eliana. How could she explain the overwhelming crush of people? The heat? The fear?

And how could she explain the exquisite beauty of a kind man’s voice? Of a gentle hand leading her out into the cool of the garden? How could she explain the loveliness of sweet-pea blossoms compared to the jewels of all the ladies of all the realms?

Martha, sensing her lady’s exhaustion, prattled on sweetly without pressing for answers even as she helped Eliana out of her gown and brushed out her long hair, preparing her for bed. But she could not resist asking at one point, “Did my lady meet the prince?”

“Well . . . no,” Eliana admitted. And this was strange, she considered in the privacy of her mind. After all, King Hendry required her presence only so that she would meet and marry his son. Yet somehow she had managed to pass the whole night without a single interaction with Prince Ellis.

“That is a shame,” Martha said, putting back the covers of Eliana’s bed and then tucking her lady in. “Prince Ellis is such a fine man. No doubt you will meet him tomorrow night and dance with him too.”

While Martha bustled about, putting out candles and tidying up the discarded ballroom finery, Eliana lay quietly propped against her pillows. She studied the gold ring on her finger. A simple band with no adornment. It could be any ring, any ring at all.

So why did she know—know with absolute conviction—that it was her mother’s own ring returned to her at last?

How had she lost it? Was it when her stepmother threw it away in the ashes, declaring it nothing more than trash? Or was it during those three nights of spinning, which seemed weirdly hazy in her memory? One way or another, lose it she had, and her heart had ached at the loss.

But how in the world did the oak-leaf man get it? How did he know it would mean so much to her?

Memory plucked at her conscious mind. But with it came the searing pain that had become all too familiar during her stay at Craigbarr. Eliana could not help the moan that escaped her lips as she sank back into her pillows. The pain swept over her in a hideous wave.

“Oh no!” exclaimed Martha. “Is it that bad headache again?” She spent the next hour soothing Eliana’s forehead with cool cloths until at last her lady fell into a deep but troubled sleep.

In her dreams Eliana heard the oak-leaf man saying, “
To remember me by . . . To remember me by . . .
”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Of Dancing and Games

The following night the ladies-in-waiting returned to Eliana’s room, this time bringing with them a gown of silver edged in blue stones. It was more elegant and lovely than her dress of the previous night, but Eliana knew it would pale in comparison to the gold dress which was even now being finished by the queen’s team of industrious seamstresses.

She was relieved when the same mask was brought to her. She had worried that if her mask were changed, perhaps the oak-leaf man would not recognize her in the crowds. But then, would she recognize him? She had not, she realized long after the fact, succeeded in getting his name from him the night before.

“Tonight I’ll ask again,” she whispered even as the ladies styled her hair and placed jewels about her neck.

One lady lifted Eliana’s hand, prepared to slide a ring into place. She paused, frowning, and said, “What is this?” indicating the gold band Eliana already wore.

“Oh. Please, I would much rather wear it,” Eliana said, which wasn’t really an answer, but she didn’t know what else to say.

The lady looked at the ring again, comparing it to the small starburst of gems she held. “It’s very plain, Lady Gold-Spinner,” she said.

Eliana nodded, and her cheeks flushed a soft rose hue. “It was my mother’s,” she whispered.

The lady looked for a moment as though she might protest. But then something like understanding seemed to pass over her face. She shrugged and put away the starburst ring.

A knock at the door; Martha hurried to answer it. Once more, men-at-arms waited just outside, ready to escort Eliana to the ball.

“Your mask, Lady Gold-Spinner,” said one of the ladies.

Eliana slid the moon-and-sun mask into place, lifted the hem of her voluminous skirts, and stepped out among the guardsmen.

King Hendry and his queen stood again on the steps above the ballroom, greeting guests as they arrived. King Hendry pushed his lion mask up onto his forehead when he saw Eliana approach, fixing her with a terrible gaze that made her knees tremble. “I understand you did
not
dance with my son last night,” he said, his voice a growl that matched his mask all too well.

Eliana tried to curtsy, teetering dangerously in her nervousness. “Forgive me, Your Majesty!” she said. “Your son did not ask me to dance.”

“Didn’t he?” Hendry shot a glare over his shoulder to where the prince stood, several steps further down, laughing with the fox-masked Princess of Syntorell. “Didn’t he . . .”

The next moment Eliana found her elbow held in the king’s tight grasp, and she nearly tripped as he dragged her down the stairs. “Ellis!” he bellowed.

So this was how she would meet the prince, the man she was expected to marry. Pushed at him against his will by his angry father. Eliana’s face flamed so hot behind her mask that she feared it might melt down her cheeks. If only she could slip away! If only she could . . .

She blinked. Then she drew a deep, gasping breath.

For she found herself standing under the pillars near the garden door, far across the crowded ballroom from the king and his son. And, somehow, she still had not been introduced to Prince Ellis!

Though her beauty outshone that of every other woman in that room, no one saw the golden-haired lady who stood in the shadows by the grand staircase. She did not wish to be seen, so a veil of mystery covered her, shielding her from all eyes. Even those who half caught a glimpse—a glimpse of loveliness that would rival the most glorious spring sunrise—wandered away in a blinking daze, wondering why their hearts suddenly hurt with nameless longing.

Queen Titania listened to the angry voice of King Hendry just above her.

“I
told
you I wanted you to dance with her tonight! She’s going to be your
bride
, and I need you to be
seen
with her at this ball
before
the Reveal!”

“I know, Father,” Prince Ellis replied sullenly. “I haven’t seen her though. I mean I don’t know what she looks like, if you’ll remember, and she’s wearing a mask anyway. If you happen to spot her, point her out to me, and I’ll introduce myself.”

“You’d better!” King Hendry raged, little caring if nearby guests heard him over the sweet strains of music playing. “You’d better dance with her till her feet bleed!”

“Whatever you say, Father,” said the prince, heaving a deep sigh.

Titania chuckled merrily like a lightly babbling brook, sending ripples of mirth out from her shadowy hiding place and making all the mortals nearby smile, though they couldn’t have said why. Then she looked out across the crowds, searching for the girl in her moon-and-sun mask and for that beautiful bronze mask of oak leaves she had carefully repaired for the faerie captain. Surely he had arrived by now. Where had the two of them gotten off to?

In her eagerness to spy the lovers, she completely missed the mischievous little imp face peering down at her from a high perch in the chandelier over her head.

“Oh, what a naughty majesty you are!” Oberon’s servant Puck whispered, and giggled so hard that the chandelier shook and wax dripped from its candles to spatter on the floor far below.

Eliana waited near the pillars, hoping the oak-leaf man would search for her there. Time passed, and he did not come.

Masked strangers nodded to her, possibly recognizing her moon-and-sun mask from the night before, though they did not know the lady who hid behind it. She always smiled in response, a nervous smile, and hoped none of them would stop and try to speak to her. She did not know how to talk to these nobles and dignitaries, and the idea of trying to navigate the difficult waters of courtly conversation filled her with dread.

She looked down at the gold ring on her finger. What a comfort it was here among all this glittering glamour! So simple, so plain—so beautiful like her mother.

“
To remember me by,
” the oak-leaf man had said. Why would he say such a thing? It sounded as though he intended to leave her forever, with nothing more than a token by which to recall her one delightful evening in his presence. But had he not promised to return to her tonight?

“I hoped I would find you here.”

The longed-for voice shot through her heart. Eliana looked up through the eyeholes of her mask, and there stood her oak-leaf man, his face lit up with a smile.

“May I have the honor of this dance?” he asked, much as he had the night before in the garden.

Eliana did not even speak an answer. She merely gave him her hand, and he swept her onto the dance floor, right out into the center. Her stomach turned with terror that was not altogether unpleasant to find herself so deep in the throng of merry-makers. But the oak-leaf man’s hand guided her with gentle confidence, and she relaxed into his hold, trusting him completely. Her knowledge of the complicated steps was faulty at best, but with him as her partner, she did not think she disgraced herself too badly.

They danced through an entire set. Then the oak-leaf man raised a hand, signaling to the musicians. By some magic, they understood him and immediately started playing a new tune—a simple tune, one that Eliana knew quite well.

“The Cobbler’s Reel!” she exclaimed, laughing up into the oak-leaf man’s smiling face. “This is just a village dance!”

“But much livelier than any of the tunes we’ve had yet, don’t you agree?”

“Oh, absolutely!” Eliana lifted the hem of her skirt with one hand, her feet lightly picking out the spritely paces of this reel, which she knew very well indeed. Yes, it was merely a country dance, silly and ungainly compared to the stately tunes of court. But the grace of a spring breeze lifted her spirits, and she whirled with her partner, her skirts fluttering like the petals of a silver rose. Through it all he smiled, and his smile was so beaming that an intoxication like wine filled Eliana’s head at the mere sight of it.

The song came to an end. The musicians blinked as though waking from a daze then started back to work, playing a much more somber melody. Eliana cast the oak-leaf man a regretful glance but then placed a hand to her racing heart. The Cobbler’s Reel had left her winded.

He led her from the floor back to their quiet corner near the garden door. “One moment,” he said, and slipped away, returning soon after with a cooling drink, which she accepted gratefully.

She noticed then the color of his eyes. The oak-leaf mask was so intricate, and his smile so bright, she had hardly bothered to look beyond them before. Now she saw that his eyes, peering at her through the eyeholes, were a color she had never before seen on a man—a bright green, like a blade of grass.

His smile softened, and something about his gaze held her transfixed. “Eliana,” he said gently, “you really are beautiful.”

She blushed and managed to tear her gaze away, looking down at her glass of cider instead. “How would you know? I’m wearing a mask.”

He shook his head. “Beauty is not a matter of appearance. It’s about what is inside you.”

Suddenly his eyes locked onto the edge of the crowd. Without a word he caught Eliana by the elbow and whisked her away to the other side of the pillar.

“What’s wrong?” she asked breathlessly.

“Nothing. Nothing at all.” He hardly seemed aware of her just then, gazing around the pillar, his mouth a grim line. “There was just . . . someone I thought I recognized.”

“It wasn’t my stepmother, was it?” Eliana asked with a nervous laugh. Craning her neck, she barely made out the plume of a shabby mask across the room. Something about the angle of that head reminded her of Mistress Carlyn, and she wondered if her stepfamily had come to this night of the ball after all, though she had yet to meet them.

“I’m not the only one avoiding someone, I see,” the oak-leaf man said, grinning down at her then.

She glanced up at him then frowned slightly. “Before I forget . . . What is your name, good sir?”

His grin froze, remaining on his face only by an effort. “Do you not know?”

“You never told me.”

He bowed his head down close to her own. One of his large hands took one of hers, and his fingers pressed against her gold ring. “But perhaps . . . perhaps you remember?”

There it was—that memory, so close! So very close, she almost could lay hold of it!

But with it came the pain.

Eliana gasped, and if the oak-leaf man had not possessed such quick reflexes, her cider glass would have shattered on the floor. “Eliana!” he said, his voice full of anxiety. “Are you all right?”

“I . . . I want to go to the garden,” she whispered. “Fresh air will help.”

He nodded. Letting her take his arm, he escorted her out the door. A cool breeze washed over them like a moonbeam over stone. Her lungs filled with the fresh evening, and the pain in her head slid away like the memory of a dream.

“I am sorry to take you away from all the fun,” the oak-leaf man said, his voice so gentle and kind. “We can go back if you wish.”

“Why would I give up the company of a friend in exchange for strangers?” Eliana replied. “I much prefer a friend.”

He took her to the bench where the sweet-peas bloomed, and they sat and watched the stars sparkle and the moon sail through the sky. Though the stone was cool beneath them, the warmth they shared seeped into their souls. Eliana smiled behind her mask as the oak-leaf man’s hand enveloped hers.