Chapter Nine

“Thanks for saving me from that heart attack.” Although the prince tried to make a joke, the silence that carried over the two of us as I sat at his bedside was deafening. The shifting of weapons outside the prince’s bedroom door was a constant reminder of how guarded the prince was—even in his own bedroom.

It had been a week since the attack at the royal banquet. Fallon’s funeral was held yesterday; it had been as solemn and dark as the kingdom of Aria right now. His death was a critical blow to Aria’s peace of mind, and the menacing feeling that permeated the kingdom’s once gleeful streets made no one feel safe within its walls. The jesters who entertained in the city square lost much of their paying audience, since Aria’s citizens were superstitious to an extreme.

Titus smoothed his tousled dark brown hair against his head. Although the deep wound on his chest was bandaged, I couldn’t keep the image of his bloodstained shirt out of my mind. It turned out that Kasib was actually a royal physician from Balua, so he was remaining in the castle until Titus’ wounds were healed. He said that it would take several days before the prince was fully healed. Kasib also remarked that Titus was lucky that the dagger didn’t pierce his heart.

The scene from that night continually replayed in my head, casting dark shadows across everything I did. Although I tried to force them back, the jester’s words of revenge and Fallon’s bleeding body tortured my memories.

“Lannie, you can’t change what happened.”

I looked at Titus. His usually cheery face was now pale and serious in comparison. I rubbed my hands together, feeling the insignificant palms that had stopped the trajectory of the weapon that almost killed Titus. “I know I can’t, but…” I trailed off, not knowing what to say next.

The prince stretched across his satin bed, revealing the stark white bandage beneath his blue tunic. “The fate of the jester and dryad are in the hands of the council right now,” he said. “Don’t worry about it.”

“No, it’s not that…” I squirmed in the too-comfortable chair. The thoughts that were plaguing my mind weren’t as simple as the prince assumed. I rubbed my palms again. “Why was that nymph let into the castle?”

“Odelia sometimes goes out on a limb,” he explained as he scratched at his neck. “It was safer in the past because the nymphs had magic restraints on them. That nymph was supposed to be checked, but…”

“But she wasn’t,” I finished for him. “The question is: Why?”

Titus shrugged one shoulder from his lazy position across the sheets. “Any guess of yours is better than mine.”

“Well, aren’t you a helpful one.” I crossed my arms and glared at the floor. “The nymph wasn’t checked,” I mused. “That led to her enchanting the guests and allowing the jesters to attack.” Even though Titus would be useless in providing possible theories to the assassination plot, speaking my thoughts out loud helped me think.

Suddenly, Titus sat up. “I just remembered: one of the guards said that they never saw the nymph go into the banquet hall.”

“So she was concealed with magic.” I stroked my chin thoughtfully. “I thought the castle took extra care to prevent that sort of thing. Aren’t the naiads supposed to guard the castle from magical beings?”

“They’re supposed to,” he agreed. “But I guess their grudge against me clouded their judgment.”

I chuckled. “The naiads have a grudge against you? Why? What did you do to them?”

“I didn’t do anything,” he snapped, glaring at me. “They’ve always hated me for no reason.”

My thoughts drifted to the dark-skinned naiad who always seemed to pick on me when I tried to exit through the back bridge of the castle. “Sounds like my situation.” I sighed. “So let’s say that the naiads decided to betray us because they hate your existence. That still leaves the question of why these particular jesters were picked—and why they were allowed to bring a nymph into the castle.”

“Odelia has organized other banquets with singing nymphs,” Titus offered. “But I don’t know if she picks the particular groups that perform here.” He shrugged and ran a hand through his hair. “They usually don’t request to perform. The jesters are selected by someone.”

That made me silent. If they requested to perform, then there would be no problem and no hesitation within my mind. But the fact that they were selected meant one thing: “Do you think the jesters had inside help?”

“Inside help…” Titus’ eyes widened. “You can’t mean from inside the castle. We don’t harbor traitors here, Lannie.”

I uncrossed my arms and looked at him seriously. “You never know. It’s a possibility.”

We sat in silence. My gaze was locked on the room’s sliding glass doors that led to an open porch. Light streamed in from behind the curtains, breaking through the darkness of the shadows. If a traitor was hiding within these walls, it must be someone trusted, someone who expertly concealed their actions in the shadows. As long as that threat lingered, Titus, Clarice, and Philippa were in danger. Odelia, too. Not that I really cared about her, but…

“I have a question.” Titus waited for me to look at him before continuing, “Why were you awake when the nymph was singing?”

I contemplated his question for a moment. “I remembered what my mother said about dryads. They make you hallucinate.”

He nodded, although I knew he wasn’t thoroughly convinced. “But you didn’t hallucinate, did you?”

“No, I think I did.” I had remembered my mother, but was that a hallucination? What type of hallucinations had my mother been talking about? “But why were you awake?” I shot back at him. “That dryad was still singing when you woke up.”

His sheet suddenly became very interesting to him as he picked off a hair. “I don’t know. I just heard your voice.”

“Uh huh.” It was obvious that Titus was hiding something, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. Maybe he possessed a secret talisman that prevented him from hallucinating? “Well,” I said, “I suppose my voice can get loud sometimes.” My memories were jolted back to the thunderous scream that had erupted from my mouth when the jester’s assistant killed Fallon.

I felt something on my head, and looked up to see that Titus had placed his finger on my forehead. He was tapping my head vigorously. “What are you doing?”

“Checking to see if you’re still in there.”

I whacked his finger off my forehead. “What are you? Three years old?” I exhaled sharply. “I have to go back home.” I rose from the chair. “Don’t do any serious thinking while I’m gone.”

The criticism wasn’t lost on Titus. He was obviously offended. “Hey, sometimes I come up with a few good theories, Lannie. You just watch,” he said. “I’ll be the one to figure all of this out.”

                                                ————————

My footsteps were soundless as I moved across the cobblestone road to the Lower Quarter. Even though it was just past noon, there was a dark aura that plagued the streets. Shops were closed, streets were sparsely populated, and mothers ushered children into their homes as I walked past. The guards in the city square set to work preparing the guillotine for the execution of the prisoners. Even with the activity of the guards, the kingdom was quiet.

I had wanted silence for so, so long.

But when you’re too focused on what you want, you never know the significance of what you have until you lose it.

A flock of crows cawed curses at me from their perches on the buildings. Everyone was high-strung today, especially the occupants of the castle. Even the guards jumped at every sound, waiting for an attack. Clarice had locked herself in her room, canceling our planned lesson. Not even Odelia could coax her daughter out of the room, which wasn’t saying much, considering their strained relationship.

I sighed as I unlocked the door to my cottage. It opened noisily, contrasting greatly with the silence of the kingdom. Once inside, I closed the door and tossed my bag on the kitchen table.

“Hello, honey bear.”

I whirled. Standing before me was a tall man of muscular build with an obnoxious smile and destitute clothing. His green eyes twinkled at me knowingly as he leaned against the door to my study.

It was my father.

I clenched my fists. “What are you doing here?”

Nigel Brackenbury smiled at me. “I thought I’d pop by for a visit, Lan.” He looked around us and gave a nod of approval. “I like the house.”

The fact that he had come here on impulse didn’t surprise me. In fact, it made me suspicious. Did he come here to ask for money? I hadn’t seen him for at least a year, but the plain tunic and trousers he wore made it clear that he had not improved his miserable situation as a simple street magician. I looked back at the door. How had he gotten in? I bolted the door before I left for the castle.

My father must have noticed my look. “Sorry, I had to get in through the window.” He brushed a hand through his dark hair with an exasperated look. “The delivery guy wasn’t letting me in. He didn’t believe that I was your father!”

I would have smiled had I not been angry. I crossed my arms. “Why did you actually come here?”

The man in front of me sighed. “Straight to the point,” he muttered. “Just like your mother.” My father glanced at the kitchen table. “Would you like to sit down and talk?”

“I’m fine with standing.” He was prolonging the real reasons just like he always did, but I would not put up with it this time.

“Very well.” He stroked the stubble that was starting to form on his chin. Before Mother died, he hated facial hair. Now he was simply too lazy to shave it off. “Lannie, I heard what happened at the castle.”

I stiffened. Did news travel that quickly? The last time I had seen my father was when he went to Nor—after I had decided to move out of the house last fall. “And?”

“And I’m worried. It’s not safe for you in Aria anymore.”

“It’s not safe for anyone,” I pointed out.

“But it’s even less safe for you.” My father’s expression was somber, which was far from normal. For him to act like this must have meant that the situation was serious. “I came here to ask you to move with me. To Nor.”

I stepped back in surprise. “To Nor?” I felt the beginning of a rant seep into my thoughts. He couldn’t be serious about this. “Why would I do that? I’d be better off living in a castle under siege than with you!”

He looked offended. “Please don’t be like this, Lan, I—”

“Don’t call me that.”

My father sighed. “I promised your mother that I would protect you, and that is what I’m doing. Please come with me. It’s for your own safety.”

“My own safety?” I asked in disbelief. “Why? I’m perfectly safe where I am right now. What could you do to protect me?”

That rhetorical question sent my father into a moment of deep thought. He tapped his chin in a speculative manner. “I have reinforced metal juggling pins. No one would touch you if I threatened to hurl one at them.”

Was that sarcasm? The smile that covered his face soon answered my question. “Don’t joke around. You can’t protect me, Father. I’m not going with you to Nor. Mother wouldn’t want that.”

He raised a finger. “Actually, she would. And if she were here with me, she would convince you to come.”

Would she convince me to come? Mother had a ridiculously strong will when she had been alive… Along with the thoughts of my mother, the circumstances of her death came rushing into my mind like a fierce, unwanted hailstorm. My memory was crystal clear from the day Mother had gotten sick two years ago. After she was fired from the castle, her job prospects declined drastically, and she had to settle for a simple, low-paying job. The doctor said that it was all the stress that made her sick. It had started out as a common disease; easily treatable, but potentially fatal. Mother said she was fine, and my father had listened to her—he had to listen to her, otherwise she would have caused a fit. She was a headstrong woman who wouldn’t take no for an answer. I knew that she wasn’t fine, but she insisted that going to the physician was the worst possible solution—for her and for our financial state at the time. We listened to her because—well, because she was Mother.

When it finally got to the point where she could no longer function properly, my father took the initiative to take her to a physician—the only one in Aria at that time. But we were too late. She died shortly after she returned from that visit. Her painful death seared into my memories. The torment she went through that day… A human should never have to go through what she did.

To this day, I regretted my actions. If I had done something—if Father had done something—she would still be here.

“Lannie.”

I looked up to see my father giving me a knowing look, his green eyes serious.

“You can’t change what happened.”

Those were the exact words Titus said to me earlier. I nodded and swallowed the pain. “I’m still not going with you.”

Nigel Brackenbury stood abruptly, frustration clear on his features. Apparently, he thought he had “gotten through” to me. “Yes you are!”

“No,” I replied calmly, giving him a level gaze. “I’m not.”

He clenched his fists, looking like a two-year-old who didn’t get what he wanted. His immaturity was ridiculous—and it was the exact reason I moved out of the house when I turned seventeen. Combined with the alcohol, he was unbearable to be around. I didn’t know if he had stopped that addiction, but it didn’t matter. I was not going with him to Nor.

“Please.” The look Father gave me was honest and straightforward as he said, “Come with me to Nor. You are in much more danger than you realize.”

I wasn’t going to go anywhere with him. He would no doubt put me in more danger than I was in right now. “I realize the danger that I am in, Father,” I told him. “I won’t be coming with you to Nor. I actually have a life here, despite what you may think.”

His gaze traveled to the floor and his hands fell to his sides in defeat. “I know that, Lannie, but… You are in so much danger. I’m just trying to—”

“No. Just stop.” I gripped my wrist to keep from shaking in agitation. I would not be swayed by his puppy looks. “I know how much danger I’m in, but these assassins are targeting the royal family, not me. So I won’t go with you. Please just leave.” I pointed to the door and closed my eyes. “I won’t—I can’t—go with you. I’m needed here.” It’s just an excuse, I told myself. They don’t need me. I tried to envision what would happen if I left. Clarice would undoubtedly be furious, but only because she would no longer be able to get out of the castle. And Titus… I tried to imagine what he would think, but it only caused me to clench my fists. I didn’t know what he would think because I couldn’t imagine leaving.

“I see…” I opened my eyes to see my father smiling. Why was he happy? I had just rejected him and told him to get out of my house. “Well, please be cautious, Lan.” His footsteps sounded across the floor until they stopped at the landing. “Your mother would be proud of you for following in her steps,” he said as he opened my front door. “I, for one, am proud of you.”

The door closed. In the silence, it was deafening.

My father confused me more than anything. He was the most irresponsible man I had ever known, yet he came here requesting me to leave with him to Nor? And even complimented me on the path I was taking? I sighed and proceeded to fill my aquaplant’s pot.

Your mother would be proud of you for following in her steps.

Despite the fact that I couldn’t trust half of the words my father said, a moronic little smirk made its way across my face.

                                                ————————

Dedicated to Monrosey because she is just amazing. Click on the dedication link and check out her just-as-amazing books, The Secret, Chasing Neverland, and Strawberry Wine! :)