A Wicked Thing (10 page)

AS SOON AS AURORA RETURNED TO HER ROOM, SHE
curled up in her armchair and opened her new book. The story turned out to be as terrible as it was addictive. Devious Dan stole and swashbuckled his way across the kingdom, jumping from one danger to another with only his dagger and his wits to protect him. His enemies cackled and the girls swooned as Dan dodged peril after peril on his hunt for legendary treasure. Reading it, Aurora couldn't stop picturing Tristan as a ten-year-old boy, devouring the adventures at an impossible speed. Was this what had inspired his story of piracy and acrobatics?

His lips still seemed to linger against hers, all the excitement
of the night captured in one fleeting moment. She did not want to sleep. She wanted to cling to the memory, to enjoy the way her heart still pounded. She wanted to read the book again and think,
This is Tristan's, too
.

When Betsy opened the unlocked door the following morning, she paused for a long moment, staring at the ground. Then she closed it softly behind her and crept over to where Aurora sat. “Princess,” she said. “I know I am only your maid, so I hope you don't think I am speaking out of place. . . .”

“You're not
only
my maid, Betsy,” Aurora said. “You're not
only
anything.”

Betsy nodded. “The thing is—if someone has been unlocking your door, you must tell me. It's important. I don't know whether you're aware of it happening or not, but I'm worried for you.”

“Please don't worry about me,” Aurora said. “It's just sometimes—it's stifling in here at night. I like to walk the corridors. The guards are always nearby.”

“Even so, Princess. It's dangerous for you to walk around alone.”

Aurora wanted to promise her that she would stay put, that of course she would be safe. But the music of the night before still hummed in her ear, the pressure of Tristan's hand brushing against her lower back, and the words stuck in her throat. She needed to see him again. She would go mad, trapped here.

“Anyway, I'm glad you're awake,” Betsy said, turning aside. “Prince Finnegan has requested breakfast with you. I thought maybe you could wear the gold dress, with the ribbon? It will look lovely on you—”

“Finnegan wants to eat breakfast with me?” After being berated by the queen for even playing cards with him, she had assumed she would not see much of him again.

“So I've been told. Isn't that exciting?” Betsy pulled a dress out of the wardrobe and brushed down its skirts.

Aurora bit back a smile. “You think spending time with Finnegan is exciting?”

Betsy blushed. She shook out the dress once more, and then scurried over to Aurora, holding it in front of her. “Well . . . he is very handsome, Princess. Not as lovely as Rodric, of course, but . . . handsome.”

“Perhaps you should go instead. You seem far more excited than I am.”

“Oh, don't be silly,” Betsy said. “I wouldn't know what to do. I wouldn't be able to say a word.”

“Now
that
I don't believe.”

Betsy giggled. “No, no, Princess, I'd clam right up,” she said. “So it's lucky it's you and not me who's got the pleasure. Now breathe in while I lace this up.”

The queen strode into the room half an hour later. She ran an appraising eye over Aurora, from her cinched-in waist to the wide skirts that swallowed her feet. She nodded. “Come
along. Prince Finnegan is waiting.”

“I thought you didn't want me speaking with him.”

The queen frowned. “Betsy, you are dismissed.” The maid curtsied and scurried out of the room. Once the door closed behind her, the queen spoke again. “You would question me in front of a servant?”

“I think I have a right to ask,” Aurora said. “Yesterday you warned me to stay away from him. You told me he was dangerous. And today I'm to eat breakfast with him as though we're the best of friends?”

“No,” the queen snapped. “Not as though you are the best of friends. As though you are diplomatic allies. Which is what you are. Finnegan has requested a breakfast with you, and as he is our guest, we can hardly refuse him.”

“But—”
You're the queen
, she wanted to say. Surely she could refuse whoever she pleased.

“Must you protest everything I say?” the queen said. “Come along. The sooner you go there, the sooner you can leave. And be on your best behavior. Do not treat him with the same impudence with which you treat me.”

The queen shepherded her into a small, cozy room on one of the lower floors of the castle. Finnegan stood by the fire, staring up at a painting, unattended by guards. He smiled when he saw them approach.

“My dear Iris! It is wonderful to see you again. And Aurora.” He bowed. “Thank you for coming to meet me this morning. I
so very much wanted the chance to speak with you again.”

The queen forced a smile. “One of my attendants will be outside if you need anything,” she said. “I shall have breakfast sent to you momentarily.” The prince bowed graciously, and, with a warning look at Aurora, Iris was gone.

“Now, isn't that better?” said the prince as soon as the door closed. “I cannot stand that woman.”

She stared at him. She felt the sudden urge to defend the queen, even though the words were ones that she herself had thought.

“Oh, don't tell me you like her,” he said. “She's such a miserable old bat. I don't think she's spoken a true word in her whole life.”

He was confident to the point of cockiness, smug in his grin and seemingly delighted with every blunt word he spoke.
A lady is polite,
she told herself. It had been her mother's first rule: politeness could get you anything.

“Iris means well,” she said eventually. A blush crept across her cheeks. “She has been a great help to me.”

“She means well?” He laughed. “Is that the highest praise our dear Sleeping Beauty can muster for her?” He leaned back against the table, hands gripping it on either side. “You are a terrible liar, Aurora. Even that simple one has set your face on fire.”

“I may be a bad liar,” Aurora said, “but I can read people, the same as you. I won our card game yesterday, remember?”

“You did,” he said. “With a little assistance from me. What a team we make.” He pushed himself back to standing. “It has been too long since we were last alone.”

“Since we were last alone?” she echoed.

He nodded. “Summer of 668 by Alyssinia's reckoning, my eighteenth birthday. One kiss, but you didn't seem to like it.” He tilted his head. “I hope you find I improve with age.” When she did not reply, he added, “See, you do not even remember. I am hurt, my lady.”

“Well, you know,” Aurora said, “I have kissed so many men. Few stand out.” The words felt dangerous on her tongue, but she would not listen meekly while he taunted her with smiles.

“But were all of them as handsome as I?”

“I do not recall.”

“The cruelty of unrequited love.” He sighed. “I remember you, of course. I had never seen one so beautiful.”

“Are the women so very ugly where you come from?”

“No,” he said. “They are all pictures of elegance. But mere weeds compared to your beauty and wit.”

“You flatter me.”

“Is it working? Are you ready to abandon Prince Rodric and run away with me? Oh, the adventures we will have.”

Aurora paused, thrown off the rhythm of their banter, and he laughed. “I forget myself, Aurora, of course. You love Prince Rodric. You are destined to live happily ever after and have many golden children to repopulate the throne.”

She looked away, embarrassment and annoyance tensing her muscles. “If you've asked me here to mock me—”

“Mock you? What an insult to poor Rodric. I was simply describing the dream.”

A knock on the door saved Aurora from replying. Finnegan moved to open it. A maid stood on the other side, with red hair falling around a pale, freckly face. She clutched a tray of tea and pastries. “I brought breakfast, my lord. If it pleases you.”

“Oh it does, Sylvia,” he said. “Bring it in, bring it in. Such a lovely girl like you shouldn't be kept hovering on the doorstep.”

The maid blushed from the roots of her hair to the tip of her nose. Finnegan's eyes followed her as she placed the tray on the table and bobbed into a curtsy.

“Do you always hound all the girls?” Aurora asked as soon as the maid was gone.

“Only the lucky ones.” He sank into an armchair in front of the tray. “Come. Eat breakfast with me. Normally a shared breakfast would imply something quite different, but I am willing to let it slide. Eat. Tell me about yourself.”

She did not move. “I am sure you already know all about me.”

“From the stories? My mother always told me, ‘Don't believe everything you hear in fairy tales.' I'd rather get my information from the source. Why do you think I'm here? The chances of Rodric awakening you seemed slim, but I made sure I was close by, just in case. I wanted the opportunity to meet you as
soon as I could.” When she did not sit down, he added, “If you do not wish to tell me your story, perhaps you could tell me mine. I would love to know what an honest girl like you thinks of me.”

“I barely know you.”

“Oh, drop the princess act,” he said. “We were having such fun earlier. Why go cold all of a sudden?”

She frowned. “I think you are ridiculous and arrogant,” she said. “Some prince from some foreign land trying to mock and humiliate me for fun.”

“Go on. First impressions are important.”

“You're frivolous and disrespectful, and I don't know why Iris wanted me to meet with you.”

“See? Isn't the truth much nicer? Trust me, Iris thinks the same, and if she had any choice, I wouldn't be here. But she doesn't.” He took a bite out of a bread roll. “I'm too important to ignore. And when you're that important, you can do what you like. A lesson you don't seem to have learned. Or are you not as important as they claim?”

She forced herself to maintain a neutral expression and slipped into the armchair across from him, her chin pushed high. “I am myself,” she said. “You can tell me whether that is important enough.”

“That would be difficult,” he said. “You haven't told me a word about who you are. If you want me to understand the real you, it'd be a great help.”

“I'd rather not.”

“Fine. Then I'll see what I can come up with on my own.” He leaned forward, and his eyes swept over her skin. “You're fed up,” he said. “You're forced to act all meek and lovely, but you have fire in you, and brutality too, I bet. You want adventure. The others say no, but you—you want something more. Am I close?”

She swallowed, struggling not to look away. “You don't know what you're talking about.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Lies really do not become you.” He took another bite of bread, and the tension between them dimmed slightly. Aurora looked down at her hands, clutched in her lap. “You'd like Vanhelm,” he said. “It's nothing like here. Only a little sea between us, and our worlds are so very different. Our buildings tower, Aurora, in a way that puts your castles to shame. While you sprawl out over this land, we build up into the sky, squeezing into tiny spaces, the ones the dragons tend to leave alone.”

“Dragons?” Her breath caught. Dragons were the creatures of books, of legends and dreams from long, long ago. They had not existed for as long as Alyssinia had existed—possibly longer, for who could tell if the myths had any truth in them at all?

“Oh, yes,” he said. “You didn't know? One day, fifty years ago, they awoke. Rather like you. They came out of the mountains and burned half my kingdom to ash. Why do you think your king and queen fear us? If we ever figure out how to tame
the creatures . . .” He grinned. “Does that excite you, Aurora?”

Creatures of legend, ones that should never exist, living and breathing across the sea. Of course it excited her. “Why?” she said. “How did they wake up?”

“No one knows. Would you like to find out? If you came with me, we could make quite a story of it. None of this fairy-tale nonsense. Heart-pounding danger, and a bit of fire.”

The worst part was that his offer sounded tempting. Just leave. Leave Prince Rodric and responsibility, run and see everything she had never seen. She felt a surge of anger, furious at him for intriguing her, furious at herself for feeling intrigued. “Are you so intent on seducing me?” she said. “Or is it that you are so inept you need to bring in fantastical beasts to sway me?”

“Is it working? My mother would be most pleased if it did. We share ancestors, you know. That's why I'm here, as fun as teasing you might be.” He moved closer. “Unworthy men have ruled Alyssinia since your father died. My family has a much better claim. We want to unite the two kingdoms, bring some of our advances to this backward realm, find some new land to build on. With you back, of course, things change somewhat, but if you wished for such an alliance . . .”

“You mean, if I betrayed my people.”

“
Betrayed
is such a harsh word,” he said. “If you support King John, we can learn to live as things currently are. We all want to help such a lovely fairy-tale darling. If, however, you ever have any doubts—”

“I support him,” she said as quickly as she dared.

“Your face gives you away. You will need to start wearing a mask, if you want to be more convincing.”

She stood up, her food untouched. “Is there anything else you wish to say to me?”

“Even when storming off, she is polite. The offer is there, Aurora. Come with me, and you will have your kingdom and your adventure, too. Alyssinia is a starving backwater of a land. I can make it better. And you would be able to leave. I know that appeals to you, whatever you might say.”