Once Upon a Romance 02 - As The Last Petal Falls (37 page)

“Oh I can, dear, I can. My help is just going to be of a more, shall we say,
indirect
nature.”

“Really, Dame? Just this once, can’t you—” she waved her fingers and made a little gesture. “Poof? Fix it?”

“Vivienne Bellicia, I know that you, a member of the royal house of Albion, did not just suggest I
break
one of the foremost rules in the Daoine Accords!”

“No one would know.” Even to herself, Vivi sounded sullen.

“My dear child,
everyone
would know. And that’s not the sort of rule you want broken. It opens up all sorts of nasty precedent.”

“Then what can you
do?
“ Vivienne flopped back into her chair. For some reason, the knowledge that Dame Merriweather wasn’t just going to magically solve all her problems was making her feel like a petulant child.

“Do? Absolutely nothing, child. You know I’m not allowed to directly alter the effects of any action taken by a human. My involvement is restricted to guidance and advice. And gifts. Don’t forget the gifts.” The grand lady gave a sly smile, and Vivienne’s heart leapt. “I happen to have one for you, right here.” She opened her reticule and pulled out what looked like a small perfume vial, filled with a thick red liquid.

“What is it?” Vivienne was fascinated and repulsed by the way the crimson goo seemed to crawl up the sides of the glass.

“Just some dragon’s blood I’ve been keeping for a rainy day.”

Vivi looked at the Dame in shock. “You’re not serious?”

“Completely serious, dear.”

“Dragons are a myth!”

“Dragons are no more a myth than I am, your highness. For that matter, they’re no more a myth than
you
are. Which brings me to something I should mention.” Merriweather took a deep breath and blew it out through her cheeks. “Technically, I really shouldn’t be handing this out to anyone this side of the mists.”

“Then why are you?”

“Well, the rules are just a
touch
flexible when it comes to those of you with certain…
special
lineages.”

“Meaning royalty?”

“Meaning fae, dear.”

“
What?!
”

“I believe I spoke clearly.”

“ Are you
deranged?
”

“It’s frequently been suggested, dear. However, in this case, I assure you I am merely speaking the simple truth. The whole story would take quite a bit of time. Time which you do not have. Suffice it to say that your famous ancestress, the one who was so unruly that even
you
have failed to top her exploits, had a very good reason for insisting on all that naked, moonlit cavorting.”

“So I’m… Fae Vivienne?”

“Goodness, no.” Fae Merriweather smirked at her. “It’s only the tinest touch in your blood. Just enough to make animals like you, or invoke the occasional freakish weather pattern.”

“Or make me see golden sparkles when I’ve been drinking?”

“Can you see the guiding lights? Fascinating. I’d no idea the blood was so strong within you. Well, that will be all to the good. You see, for pure mortals, dragon’s blood can have some rather odd effects, but for you,” she smiled and dropped the vial into Vivienne’s limp hand, “it will strengthen our blood within you. Permanently.”

Vivi gaped. “What will that mean?”

“Oh, you’ll be stronger. Not physically, but you should be able to travel day and night if you wish. It will help you get ahead of the king and his men.”

“And the sparkles?”

“Yes, you’ll probably see them all the time.”

“What are they?”

“I already told you, dear, they’re the guiding lights. They lead to your destiny, although frequently in a somewhat roundabout way.” The Dame’s tone was so dry that Vivi knew there was a story there, but she put the thought away for another time.

“Anything else?”

“Any number of things, but as time is somewhat limited, I shall leave you to discover them on your own.”

“But—”

“Really dear, you haven’t much time. You need to ready yourself.”

“I just—”

“Dawdling is quite an unattractive habit, Vivienne.”

Vivi rolled her eyes and huffed off to the closet to rifle through her clothes.

“I don’t know what the youth these days are coming to. I really don’t.”

Dame Merriweather was ensconced on the steps of the palace, ordering a hapless page to fetch all the necessities for her picnic. In between sending the boy for another flagon of wine and demanding a nicer cut off the ham, she berated the captain of the guard soundly.

“I am an official advisor to the king of Albion! By what right do you say I cannot take his daughter for an outing?”

“Dame, I have been asked to keep the princess in the safety of the castle. There are outlaws abroad, and until they are brought to justice, the king deems the lands outside the city unfit for the princess.”

“But his own daughter is allowed out!”

Dame Merriweather pointed an imperious finger across the courtyard. There, astride a beautiful white palfry, was Bianca. Standing at her stirrup was a clear-eyed man with a bow and a quiver of arrows, speaking to her seriously. He waited until Bianca had nodded solemnly, and then swung into his own saddle. Casting one glance at the commotion on the steps, he gestured for Bianca to precede him, and rode for the city gates.

“The king’s hunstman is responsible for the safety of his daughter, and the king has not given them any orders that she remain within the castle. We, on the other hand,” he indicated himself and his men, “are charged with protecting the princess. Here.
In the castle.
“

“This is idiotic,” the Dame fumed loudly, casting black looks at the armed men. “We are going for a drive, for goodness’ sake, we’ll never be out of the carriage. Where is the harm?”

“Madame,” the Captain sighed, and tried to explain himself once more. Meanwhile, the poor page boy loaded the last bundle into the carriage and came to whisper in the Dame’s ear. She waved him off.

“Yes, yes. Now go straighten my lap blankets. You’ve left them in a terrible snarl.” The boy’s shoulders slumped and he climbed dejectedly through the tiny door to handle the mass of blankets.

Dame Merriweather took a huge breath, apparently in preparation to berate the Captain again, when Vivienne appeared in the shadowed archway of the castle. She was well bundled for an outing in the cold, and the Captain’s temper snapped.

“Your highness, I insist that you return to your rooms. You two,” he indicated a pair of guards, “escort her there,
at once.
And you, Madame,” he turned back to the Dame, “you may be the king’s advisor in Albion, but here you are nothing but—” he checked himself, and then spoke through gritted teeth, “a well respected guest. Kindly take yourself out for your drive, and leave me to my sworn duty.”

“Well, of all the high-handed…” Dame Merriweather trailed off. The Captain was studiously ignoring her. With every ounce of dignity she could muster, she turned and flounced off to the carriage. After settling herself on the padded seat, she stuck her head back out the window, addressing her driver.

“Move on, James. Take me away from these unreasonable people.”

The carriage wound its way down the city streets and finally out the main gate. As they moved out of hearing range, Vivienne pulled off her page’s cap and gave a most unladylike whoop as her hair tumbled down. “It worked!”

“Indeed it did, my dear.”

“You know, if that Captain hadn’t been so irritated with you, he probably would have noticed that it was mother under all those layers.”

“Perhaps. You do look a great deal alike. But I was happy to play a small role in your escape.” Merriweather smiled at Vivi, and they both relaxed a moment on the soft, velvet-covered bench of the carriage. Then Vivienne began pulling on the clothes she had smuggled into the car, wrapped in the lap blankets. The page’s uniform was more practical for moving in the snow than a skirt, so she left that on, but covered the fine silk stockings with heavy woolen ones, and a pair of quilted pants. Then she added her mother’s woolen riding jacket and a felted wrap given her by Bianca. After tucking her hair up again, this time under a heavy knit cap, and wrapping her neck in a scratchy scarf, she felt ready to brave the cold.

“Are we there, yet?”

“Patience, my girl, patience. We’ll be at the meeting point soon enough. There is one other thing you need to do before you go marauding off.” The Dame gestured to Vivienne’s pocket, where the vial of dragon’s blood was hidden.

Vivi pulled it out and looked askance at the oozing liquid.

“I’m not really sure I want to do this, Merriweather.”

“Well, that shows that you’re wise, girl. You should never be completely certain, not when you’re going to do something this life altering.”

“You’re not going to try to convince me?”

“I don’t have to convince you, Vivienne. I
know
you. You’ll drink it. Out of pure, pig-headed stubborn refusal to fail, if nothing else.” Fae Merriweather gave her a serene smile, and Vivi glared at her as she snatched the stopper out of the vial.

“Being right all the time is a very unattractive habit, you know.”

“Only to everyone else, dear. I find it perfectly lovely.”

The princess sighed and focused on the vial. It wasn’t her imagination. The liquid was trying to climb
up
out of the small neck.

“Best hurry, dear. You don’t want to have to chase it around the floor.”

Vivienne gave the Dame one more black look, and then tossed the contents of the vial into her throat.

She tried to swallow, but it was like trying to swallow a live mouse. The blood crawled back up into her mouth, scrabbled at her tongue, and lashed at her teeth. She clamped her jaw shut, and it tried another route, slithering along her soft palate and crawling up into her nose. Pinching her nose shut she swallowed hard, once, twice, and then a third time. As her throat forced the blood to her stomach it scraped her nerves, finally coming to rest in her stomach where it burned like she’d swallowed a hot coal.

She gaped at Merriweather, unable to speak, still trying to comprehend what was happening.

“I suppose the word
drink
was a bit of an understatement. Don’t worry, the burning will fade soon.”

Sure enough, the live ember in her stomach rapidly changed to a frozen pool. It shot off through her veins like shards of ice, racing to her fingers, and all the way down to the tips of her toes. It forced her spine rigid, and left her heart exploding in her chest.

“Don’t forget to breathe, dear. That will help it pass sooner.”

Vivienne took great heaves of air, working her lungs by sheer force of will. Her heart began to slow. The tingling settled deep into her limbs, becoming somehow a part of her, becoming bearable. Her lashes fluttered and her vision refocused, eyes coming to rest on Fae Merriweather.

The older woman was aglow with whirling golden light.

The sparkles gathered around the Dame like she was a kind of lodestone for the light. They played along her fingers and danced around her head, and, as Vivienne watched, amazed, a shining bundle formed something very like a bird, which flew to Merriweather’s shoulder and spoke softly in her ear.