Chapter Twenty-Three

The weather that day was beautiful. White clouds dotted the clear blue sky, creating a frame around the sun. It was the picture of perfection. In Aria, a day like today—with fair, gentle weather—was coveted by other kingdoms. A day like today was what everyone in Aria looked forward to.

Except me.

Fair weather meant people. And people meant crowds. Hordes. Demons.

I had just been released from my prison—otherwise known as the castle—and was heading through the crowded Lower Quarter to my house. Since the attack, I had been poked, prodded, and interrogated by Clarice and her assistants. Finally, after three days, I escaped with a full voice and a (mostly) healed body. But my joy was shot down like a bird in the sky.

The people of Aria were in their grandest state for the royal ball. The market had fabulous and exotic foods imported directly from Nor, along with several textiles from Balua. I had to squeeze between two exceedingly fat men to even enter the market in the first place.

I spotted a tower of buckets near one of the stalls; it was the same tower that had toppled over the night I was attacked. I clenched my fists and continued walking. I didn’t need to be thinking about that now.

I ducked beneath the arm of a burly man—or was that a woman? The fact that I couldn’t tell was disturbing. My heart was beating fiercely by the time I exited the market. The colorful flags of Aria flew about on every shop, waving this way and that. This was why I never left my house—or why I never used to leave my house, anyway. The exuberance that people had over a simple event was ridiculous. I would gladly switch places with any peasant girl.

But no. I, of all people, had been blackmailed into going to that stupid ball. Since the attack, I pleaded injury to Clarice, but she firmly disagreed and told me that I would now have to stay for the entire event. I found it funny how fate decided to turn the tables on me every time I tried to escape its wretched clutches.

I unlocked the door to my house, relishing in the silence that I met on the other side.

“Ah, Lilly, I was wondering when you would be back!”

I froze in the doorway.

No.

I turned slowly to face the scarlet witch, who had positioned herself comfortably at my kitchen table. She was sipping a mug of tea. In my chair. In my house.

I was speechless.

“Sorry.” Mayra stood with a smile. She wasn’t wearing her usual cloak; instead, she allowed her dark brown hair to cascade over her shoulders. Her pointed ears were noticeable, making me wonder exactly what she was. “I had to see you,” she said. “Are you okay?”

She probably had ulterior motives other than checking up on me. I crossed my arms. “Yes, I am.” My memories flitted back to her battle with the serpent. “What about you? Did you defeat the Orandine?”

She barked a laugh, causing her dark brown hair to move with her. “Perish the thought! I only held him off until you escaped. Then I ran myself.”

I narrowed my eyes at Mayra, inspecting her, but finding nothing out of the ordinary—well, as ordinary as she could be. I didn’t like this one bit. “Why are you in my house? How did you get in?”

“Your lovely entrance back there”—she pointed to the window inside my study—“was unlocked. I would have tried the front, but I figured you didn’t want your neighbors wondering what you had to do with a witch.”

I needed to lock that window more often. “So you thought it was okay to just break into my house and make tea for yourself?” I was appalled. The manners that Mayra exhibited would one day bring Aria crashing down into the depths of uncleanliness and vulgarity. “How did you think that was a good idea?”

“Well, I needed to speak with you about some things,” she said, sitting back down at my table. “We left off on a very unfriendly note, if I recall correctly. I also recall that you did not give me the information on the prince that I requested,” she reminded me.

I didn’t care whether she recalled it correctly or not. “Sorry to burst your bubble, but I’m not giving you that information,” I said. “And I’m not a superhuman destined to save this world. I can’t even keep a sixteen-year-old from attacking me. Much less a man-eating serpent.”

Mayra chuckled. “It’s not exactly you that is the superhuman, per se.” She stroked her chin thoughtfully. “It is something you have that is—well—amazing.”

I considered her wise words in a moment of deep thought. “That makes perfect sense,” I said, nodding. “In fact, it makes as much sense as Odelia’s obsession with makeup.” I paused, waiting for Mayra to understand. Her blank expression said she didn’t, so I elaborated, “Odelia’s obsession doesn’t make sense. Odelia doesn’t even make sense.”

The witch frowned, her soft features breathtakingly beautiful. Like a portrait. She stood again, picking up her mug of tea in one hand. “Well, I don’t understand much of that. But since you are here, I want to test something directly,” she said. “I apologize prior to this action.”

Before I could respond, she took her mug and splashed it all over my face and clothes. I gaped at her. I was not the violent or straightforward type, but at that moment, all I wanted to do was grab her throat and throttle her like a rag doll. “Why the heck did you do that?” I yelled.

Mayra set her mug down on the table and studied me. “Bingo.” She pointed to my chest. For a brief, idiotic moment, I thought she was indicating to my unmentionable undergarment, but I quickly realized that she was pointing to my mother’s pendant, which was firmly attached to my blouse. It was glowing.

Great. That made sense now. I had a glowing pendant that held memories and loved tea.

Oh, Logic, where did you go?

Mayra looked proud of herself. “Of course!” She slapped her forehead. “I didn’t try water with Helena.” The witch drummed her fingers against each other with glee, a strange, excited expression overcoming her face. “Hehe! Water. Oh, the wonders that could do… One of the most powerful…” She began muttering to herself as she paced back and forth in my kitchen.

Meanwhile, I stood there, dripping wet with herbal tea. The manners of this woman were despicable. I entered the bathroom that adjoined my study and grabbed a towel. Why in Aria's name had she thrown tea at me? Was this woman mad?

I would never know because Mayra was gone when I reentered the kitchen.

                                                ————————

I lived a strange, strange life. Where witches throw tea at you and tell you to save the world. My existence in a nutshell.

I had just finished my morning lesson with Clarice the next day when I ran into the queen and her plethora of guards. I curtsied to her, but stopped halfway when she came over and hugged me.

“Lannie, I’m so sorry I couldn’t visit you,” she said. “I had so many things to do. Are you alright?”

I stood there awkwardly in her embrace. “Er… Yes, ma’am, I am. I think.”

Philippa released me with a laugh, which made a small echo in the corridor. “You ‘think’? Is that good or bad?”

I shrugged, trying to smile. I noticed the guards went tense when she hugged me. Ever since the jester attack, they had been tight and uncompromising with the safety of the Royals. I looked at Philippa as she accompanied me down the hall. “Is the king well?”

“No, not entirely.” The lines on her forehead deepened. “He has been ill since the banquet, but he has been getting better. I do hope he makes a full recovery…” She trailed off, rubbing the long sleeves of her simple gown.

“He’ll be fine,” I assured her. And yet again, I wondered why I was comforting the queen. I was a nervous wreck in these “comforting” situations. “The king is usually good with, er, getting out of things, right?” Like coming back from the dead, I didn’t say.

The fading light from the window in the next hall sent shadows dancing across Philippa’s face. “He hasn’t been himself lately,” she murmured, so low that I had to strain in order to hear her. “I suppose it is because of the sickness. But now we have to deal with this ball.”

“Then why don’t you call it off?” But then I realized that if I convinced the queen to cancel the royal ball—the ball that every woman in Aria looked forward to—I would make myself a walking target if people found out who was responsible for the cancellation. And then the Orandine would be the least of my problems.

Thankfully, Philippa shook her head. “Gavin wanted to continue it, since it would be a shame after all that’s been done for it. We almost canceled it after the banquet incident, you know,” she said. “But he just couldn’t bear the thought of disappointing Aria, I suppose.” The queen laughed, but there was significantly less mirth in it than when she had laughed before.

I didn’t know what to say to that, so I just smiled. The “banquet incident” brought to mind a certain nymph with blue skin. “Have you heard anything about Nezira?” I asked her in a low voice as we walked. Ever since the attack, I had been informed of everything except that which mattered most.

Philippa gave a small sigh. “I’m sorry, Lannie. There was nothing I could do. She’s been returned to her owner.”

At least she didn’t kill herself. She was safe, and that was all that mattered. I resolved to try and purchase her from her owner after the ball. And after that… Well, it would be interesting, to say in the least.

We entered the main hall when Philippa said, “I must bid you farewell, Lannie.” She hugged me again. “Please be careful. Don’t go revealing yourself to every creature in town now.”

I exhaled slowly. She was clucking worries at me like a mother hen. “I’ll be fine, Philippa,” I told her. “You’re worrying too much.”

She let me go. “You’re probably right. I have too many things to worry about.” Her emerald gaze became serious. “So don’t make me worry over you. I hereby forbid you from leaving the castle at night.”

I was about to protest when I saw the playful gleam in her eyes.

That playful gleam disappeared. “I am serious about this,” she said. “You will be escorted home tomorrow night after the ball. Is that understood?”

I rolled my eyes. “Yes, Mother.”

The grin that spread over her face was comparable to the sun itself. “Excellent!”

                                                 ————————

I decided to stay in the castle until the afternoon. The streets of Aria were too packed, and, although the castle was in disarray, it was far better than being suffocated by hundreds of people.

I entered the Artistry Hall, studying the intricate portraits of different magical creatures. The jeweled Orandine seemed to laugh at me in the oceanic picture. I wondered briefly how a sea serpent could go on land, but then remembered that they were magical—full of strange mysteries I would probably never know.

As I continued down the hall, I spotted King Gavin approaching me. I bowed to the king in surprise. “Hello, Your Majesty. Er, how are you feeling to—”

But the king walked right past me without a greeting. The look on his face as he passed was one of anger—I was sure of it this time.

What had I done to anger him? Was it his illness that was setting him off? Oh no, I thought. He must be angry because I revealed the marriage to Titus… I slapped my forehead. Could I do anything without angering someone?

I sighed, making my way down the stairs. I happened to pass by the entrance to the castle’s outer courtyard and I paused for a moment, studying the oaken door. Normally, I wasn’t the curious type, but this time was different. I had never been in the courtyard itself before—only the stables. The sounds coming from behind the door piqued my interest. I’d heard that the guards supposedly trained in this mysterious place, but I had yet to see it for myself…

Since I had free time, I might as well explore the unknown.

The unknown. I shivered. This castle and everyone in it was rubbing off on me. Had it not been for Odelia and her stupid wishes, I would have been safe at home, writing articles for my advice column. Then again, I would have never met Titus or Clarice. Or Philippa.

But then I wouldn’t have been attacked by an Orandine. Nor would I have saved Titus from the jester, I realized. Would he be dead if it weren’t for me?

I shook my head. There was no use fretting over what never was.

I donned my cloak before I entered the courtyard, concealing my identity and telltale blue pendant. Everyone seemed to recognize me for that single piece of jewelry. Even though it had caused me so much trouble, I couldn’t bear to part with it, since it had once belonged to my mother. And I had even sworn that I would never wear it again…

I entered through the door and into a large courtyard. It was on the side of the palace, in a large area saved for training. There were guards, dressed in the usual Aria blue, already training voraciously with one another. Sword fighting was the main activity, but I spotted wooden targets near the stone wall.

I ducked behind a pillar, making myself nondescript against the stone. Clashing swords and exclamations of victory sounded from the practice area in the center. Two guards were sparring with each other on the dirt, metal helmets secured firmly upon their heads. I watched them parry and attack back and forth until it became monotonous. Cheers from the surrounding guards made it seem like the practice was some sort of wild event. I didn’t see how anyone could watch something like this in a tournament. It was simply boring.

One of the guards fell down on his backside and the other pointed his sword at his opponent’s throat.

“You win, you win.” The guard on the ground removed his helmet, and I was surprised to see Lucan Faretra smiling like an idiot at the man above him.

The winner revealed himself to be Titus. Sweat glimmered on his brow as he reached a hand down to help Lucan to his feet. He gave Lucan a small smile as he sheathed his sword. “Well played.”

I inched myself directly behind the pillar as Titus’ gaze swerved over to my location. But I quickly realized that he wasn’t looking at me when I bumped into someone behind me.

“Lannie! What are you doing here?”

I involuntarily groaned, turning to face Clarice. “I just—” I gulped. She could make any ridiculous accusations against me regarding Titus—even though I only came here out of curiosity—and there were dozens of guards here to witness her folly. “I came here to see what they do down here,” I told her as nonchalantly as possible, ignoring the pounding of my heart. I swear… This girl would make me pop a blood vessel before I was twenty. I had only three years left to live.

“Clara!” Lucan’s voice sounded from behind the pillar.

A sudden smile inched its way across my face. Now I had something against her. She wouldn’t dare make accusations against me when I had my own blackmail. “Why did you come down here?”

Her eyebrow twitched—a telltale nervous tick I’d noticed over the weeks. “I was invited.” Clarice turned to the men past the pillar. “Hello, cousin!” Her eyes flickered to me, and with an evil grin, she dragged me into the courtyard with her.

The bloody fiend! If I struggled, I would only embarrass myself in front of all these…men.

“What are you doing here, Lannie?” Titus was perplexed as he studied me. The stares of the guards made a cold sweat break out on my brow.

Great. Now I had to explain myself.

“She’s here with me,” Clarice answered for me, giving me a smile that made me want to lunge for her throat.

Lucan was no better. His exuberance just made me angry, and I didn’t know why. His eyes, his hair, his smile—everything—made me want to punch his face. I didn’t like happy people. Their ridiculous state of contentment drew me into a shadow from which I found it hard to escape. The prince of Nor bowed to me. “It’s nice to meet you again, Lannie.”

Well, at least he had manners. I nodded, bowing in response. “I was just leaving, though, so I’ll leave you to your…stuff.”

“No, Lannie.” Clarice hooked her slimy sixteen-year-old arms around mine. “You simply must stay. Lucan and Titus will be demonstrating their fighting skills.”

Titus put his hands into his pockets. “I wouldn’t mind if you stayed, Lannie.”

Lucan grinned at me. “Nor would I.”

Okay, that was starting to become unnerving. I felt my nose twitch in agitation. Clarice was trying to get back at me for teasing her, it seemed. “Sorry. I have to get back before nightfall. Don’t want to get attacked, you know.”

At that, Clarice and Titus stiffened. Lucan, however, laughed, clearly failing to read the situation.

“A sensible young woman,” he remarked, that too-bright smile highlighted by periwinkle blue eyes. “You should visit Nor some time with Clarice. My father would enjoy your company.”

The king of Nor? Over my dead body. Nor was known to be flamboyant and out of control. The hooligan kingdom. Besides, I was just a tutor. I would stay in Aria if it killed me. I tried to smile at Lucan. “Goodbye, Your Highnesses.”

Clarice, mercifully, released me from her clutches and I was free to leave for the day. I made my way through the castle, dodging yowling housemaids and arguing servants. I dreaded the ball tomorrow. Not only was it dangerous for the Royals, but it was dangerous for me. There would be so many people. And Lucan would be there, too. The smiling, agitating creep that he was.

I exited the castle and took the most peaceful route I could manage through the Lower Quarter—which involved many twists and turns down alleys and side streets. The bustling noises of the kingdom were everywhere. I ducked beneath the arm of a colorfully dressed man, avoided a salesperson barking prices, and jumped over a stray cat. The bright rays of the sun and warm winds signaled more beautiful summer days to come. And the cacophony in the streets signaled the coming of the ball.

I took a detour through an alley next to the cathedral, which also bordered the Aria water ports. I only needed to pass by this extravagant church to get into my neighborhood. I decided to circle round the back of the cathedral. I could only hope that it was empty.

As luck would have it, the back of the church was not empty. There were two people speaking to each other in discreet, angry voices.

I would have turned around, but I recognized one of the arguing individuals. It was Cicero, the grey-haired, crotchety old man that hated my involvement in freeing Nezira. But who was he talking to? The shadows provided by the cathedral managed to conceal the other figure he was speaking to. However, I could see the faint outline of a dark cloak—broad shoulders indicated that it was a man. When the figure moved its arm, the sound of clinking jewelry echoed down the alley.

The realization hit me with such force that I almost stumbled forward into the alley. It was the man from the tavern—the Orandine!

But what was Cicero doing talking with a murderous serpent? Well, maybe he thought the man was normal? Yeah, right, I thought. That old man was suspicious enough. I narrowed my eyes at the two as they spoke. The very demeanor of their conduct was odd. Cicero was fuming as he spoke, and the cloaked man was acting