Heart of Stone (25 page)

43.

Sophie

Palace Royale, Éclat, Gemmes

When the tears stopped flowing, and the room emptied, she stood.

Guardsmen had come in for the queen’s body. Her mother’s ladies in waiting tearfully followed them. It was surreal. All of it. It occurred to her that she was seeing people for the first time in her life. 

Tristan’s Uncle Rémy and Tamsin gathered their belongings to leave for another room; the day had turned to night. Everyone needed rest. Sophie specifically noticed the dagger as Tamsin wiped it clean of blood before putting away. She’d shuddered as she watched Tamsin leave. The woman made her skin crawl.

              Tristan, Henri and Emel stood in the room with expectation, but she didn’t have any witty or obnoxious thing to say. She had nothing.

              “May I have the garnet?” she asked Emel. Henri cocked his head at her, quizzically. “What?” she asked him, as Emel handed her the gem.

              Tristan’s eyes were glued to the blood-red stone.

              “You just … it’s nothing.” Henri smiled. “You just said ‘may I’ to Emel. You’ve never spoken so politely before, is all.”

              “How funny,” Sophie said, distracted.

Her heart pounded as she clasped her fingers around the lifeless stone. It fit perfectly in her hand; an extension of the girl she was. The idea of parting with it terrified her. If she was no longer the girl with a heart of stone, who was she?
              “Where is your
trésor
, Tristan?” Sophie asked, surprising herself. There were plenty of other things to deal with.

Drake had arrived earlier, telling her she was the new ruler of Gemmes, no longer a princess, but the queen. He’d explained that the rioting masses grew, even as he spoke. The Palace was no longer safe. Every Province was in turmoil, and it would grow worse when they learned of the queen’s death.

Quite a legacy was hers.

Still, she needed to understand the
Trésor de L’espoir
, see how that piece fit into this complicated puzzle that was bound up with her heart, old and new.

“The Legend states: The Montagne farthest from the Sea is where the
trésor
dwells,” he said, eyes sparkling.

“Did you memorize it or something?” Henri asked.

“Of course I did, it’s my life work. What’s yours? Bread?” he prodded.

“We’ll go as soon as possible, in the morning if possible. We must,” Sophie stated firmly.

The boys seemed to ignore her, fixated on who claimed what, or more likely, who claimed whom.

“Well, it’s not yours anymore, you know,” Henri stated. “It’s Sophie’s. She had the last stone. What, would you steal it from the Queen of Gemmes?”

“Actually, Sophie, my darling, gave me two of the stones. She gave a diamond set upon a golden band to me as well. Does that
ring
a bell, Henri?” Tristan smirked, upping him.

“Really?” Henri asked her. “You gave him the ring … the ring I gave you?”

He looked so hurt. Sophie turned away, not able to look at his pained brown eyes.

“Are you alright, Sophie?” Emel asked.

“It hurts.”

“What hurts?” Tristan, Henri and Emel asked in unison.

“Knowing I hurt you, Henri.”

Sophie looked at him, his face so familiar. She couldn’t help but think of how many times she must have hurt him through the years. When she spoke callous words too quick. When she didn’t take him seriously over and over again. Her behavior was unbearable.

Yet, despite all of that, here he was.

“I shouldn’t have given it away,” Sophie said, trying to be as brave as Emel’s stone reading predicted. “I see that now. It wasn’t just a ring. It was
your
ring, for me,” Sophie said, biting her lip.

Before Henri responded, Tristan jumped in, “How did you find that ring, Henri? It’s the eight-sided diamond of Gemmes; did you know that?”

“Of course not,” Henri said defensively. “I found it one day in the woods, a few years ago. I didn’t realize how important it was, obviously, I’d have returned it to the king had I known it belonged to him. I always knew … never mind….”

“Unbelievable,” Tristan said, shaking his head.

“Henri, what did you know?” Sophie pressed him to finish his words.

Henri looked at her with eyes full of history.

“I always knew it was yours. I always wanted to give it to you. Strange isn’t it? How it already belonged to you, the Queen of Gemmes?” He shook his head.

Sophie realized she wanted him to cross the room, cover the space between them. In reality, it was maybe ten feet, but it felt like the breadth of the ocean. All she wanted was him to be at her side and never leave.

That truth, once she acknowledged it, filled the cavernous spaces inside of her. The spaces resentment and hostility had dwelled. She had let them in the door of her heart, not just inside her stony walls; they had become her essence. They knew their way around. They had been a part of most everything she had done.

But now.

Now she was no longer an Ice Queen, ruled by those glacial feelings she knew so well. No. Now that the garnet was gone, there was space inside of her for love.

Love for Henri.

“Henri?” she asked, pensively. “I am sorry for giving away your ring. Will you forgive me?”

He nodded as his shaggy hair fell in his eyes, his perfect smile breaking to a grin, and dimples forming across his cheeks.

She crossed the breadth of the sea herself, because she couldn’t imagine them apart for one more minute. One more second. One more breath.

Because breath wasn’t a thing to take for granted, Sophie had learned.

She was unwilling to waste a single one.

She pulled him into a kiss. His lips met hers and she swore they tasted like the ocean she’d never seen and the salt may have been his tears or her tears, and it mattered little. Because all she needed to know was if he would still choose her.

Because after all this time she knew, with all of her beating heart, that she chose him.

44.

Tristan

North Montagne, Gemmes

The next morning the sun rose bright, and the clouds were gone and everything seemed possible. Except for leaving the Palace. That was proving more difficult than any of them had anticipated. The rioters were causing quite a delay for their whole ‘open the mountain and figure out what the legend meant’ expedition.

              “Perhaps the best thing to do is invite them with us,” Sophie suggested.

              They looked at her, trying to decide how serious she was. She’d assumed the role of queen for what, twelve hours and already making preposterous proposals. Drake stopped looking at the map with Uncle Rémy, to assess Sophie. He didn’t seem to know what to make of her.

              Who did, really?

              Tristan had utterly devoted himself to this creature since the moment he set eyes on her. Although, he now realized, that had less to do with her, and much more to do with the garnet buried in her chest.

              To his disappointment, his charisma and charm hadn’t set her heart aflame. He was a fetching adventurer, but obviously not much else. It seemed now that she had the ability to love, her choice was already made.

              She’d chosen Henri, and Henri chose her. Much to Emel’s and Tristan’s awkward disappointment. They found their way out of the chamber room last night the moment Henri’s and Sophie’s lips touched.

              Which was fine because Emel was quite ravishing herself. Emel was much less obscure and cynical, she was gorgeous in a
Bohème,
diseuse de bonne aventure
way. Fortunetellers were hard to compete with, in honesty.

              “We don’t actually know what is inside the Montagne, you know that right, Sophie?” Tristan asked.

Now that the moment he had waited for had finally arrived, it was more nerve-wracking than he’d anticipated. What if it was dust and rubble? What if the Legend was a giant hoax? What if it was everything he’d hoped for, what if it was more?

              “Better for everyone to see it and believe it, than us telling them tales of what we found.” Sophie seemed sure of herself.

              “But the
trésor
is….” Tristan started.

              “Is what?” Sophie crossed her arms protectively. “The
trésor
, as we’ve discussed thoroughly, belongs to everyone in Gemmes, equally. We live here. We die here. We will share the spoils democratically.”

              Tristan shook his head and Tamsin smiled at the corner of her mouth. It seemed the woman still had secrets.

              “We will set you up on the Palace steps and open the gates,” Drake said, moving quickly from the room. “You can tell your citizens there.”

45.

Sophie

The Steps of the Palace Royale, Gemmes

The thing was Sophie didn’t know much about who she actually was. The idea of leading an entire nation of people overwhelmed her. She had not set out to rule this country. She’d only wanted to find her parents and the stark truth was she had neither.

              The rioting crowd had quieted as the looming Légion surrounded the Palace. One could not deny the power of their curiosity. Sophie watched from her dead mother’s bedroom window. Desperate to breathe deep, desperate to remain calm.

She sat at the dressing table, the one lined with shakers of fancy gem-dust filled with the promise to make one a better person. Sophie picked up the jar labeled
Amazonite
; the powder of the green stones promised to soothe her nerves. She needed all the calming properties offered, and she shook it vigorously.

              She couldn’t understand how everyone managed to make it through life with such deep banks of emotions swelling inside. No longer solely cold, Sophie felt the ache of losing her mothers … both of them …Francesca and Cozette … both pressing in on her. The ache of losing the father she never knew. The ache of being an orphan. It was overwhelming, feeling so much.

              “Henri, can you unclasp this?” Sophie asked the only person she had left. Watching him through the mirror as he tenderly unhooked the chain of emeralds, Sophie felt another pang. The pang that apparently happens when you love someone so much it physically hurts.

              She felt that for Henri.

              “Don’t you want to wear some of the Royal jewels, Jou-Jou?”

              “I think that seriously compromises my position as the people’s queen.”

              “True. See, you will be fine, already thinking of the citizens above yourself.” Henri smiled as he leaned over to kiss her cheek.

              “This will be dreadful,” she said, pessimistically.

              “You’ll be grand,” Henri said, kissing her other cheek. “Besides, worst case scenario we flee this foolery, steal Emel’s wagon and go live a glorious life alone.”

              “Promise?”

              “You don’t need my promises. You were born for this. You are the same Jou-Jou I always knew and loved … smart and cunning and irresistible. The people of Gemmes will listen to you.”

              Henri walked with her from the queen’s chamber, down the staircase, and out the Palace. Sophie felt stronger with Henri gripping her hand, believing in her.

              Sophie looked at the people; she saw the exhaustion in their eyes, the years of death, of grueling work, of undelivered promises. She would offer them more than what they had. Worse case-scenario, she realized, if the was no treasure in the Montagne, she could still open the king’s vault and bestow on them the gems they had rightfully earned. This backup plan filled her with confidence.

              She stood tall; shoulders back, and spoke with poise. Poise, she realized, she would carry with her all the days of her life. It was the poise her mother had – poise she had as well, buried inside the four chambers of the heart. The heart that was her mother’s, the heart that was hers. The heart that would lead her people.

It was a relief to realize she had indeed been born to lead this country. She stood before protesters, who appeared quite taken aback by the opening of the Palace gates. Sophie smoothed her crimson gown, raised her head, and spoke.

“I am Sophie. The lost daughter of King Marcus and Queen Cozette. Rulers who have passed from this world to the next, leaving me the heir and rightful Queen of Gemmes.”

A cry broke through the crowd, and fists shook with raised pick-axes.

“I know you’re angry. You have the right to be. I grew up in the
Vallee,
raised by a woman killed by the King’s Legion, I have seen first-hand what living under the king’s rule is like. I want more for you. I want more for
Gemmes
.”

Sophie swallowed, and glanced at the people who stood stoically beside her. This hodge-podge alliance formed the only people she had, and they were enough. Drake, Emel, Tristan, Tamsin, Remy, and Henri. They nodded at her to continue, to not stop now. She could be brave.

“You may have heard of the
Trésor de L’espoir.
It is a
trésor
that promises to give riches greater than we can imagine, if it is found and opened. We,” Sophie pointed to her friends, “believe we can open it. We want you to come with us. To see it with your own eyes. Now.”

Her direct approach seemed to work, and no one screamed back insults or tried to break past the guards. They had questions.

“Where is it?”

“Can we bring our families?”

“Will you share?”

Sophie beamed as Drake fielded the questions. The palace would send convoys filled with provisions. Palace cooks would be rounded up and food would be prepared for anyone who joined them. The soldiers would load wagons with surplus tents and gear. The country of Gemmes was rich, and Sophie knew it was high time to share that wealth with her people.

When she walked off the steps, back inside the Palace to pack, she realized with a gasp that tears pricked her eyes.

She brushed them away, realizing for the first time these were not tears of sorrow, or tears of pain. These tears were borne from joy.