The Carnelian Legacy (28 page)

Marisa opened her eyes.

Silence.

Nothing.

She waited several minutes in the quietness of her chambers for something to happen, but everything remained just as it was. No bolt of lightning. No booming voice in the sky. No bright light that blinded her.

Her eyes roamed the peaceful stillness of her chambers.

Nothing.

“Well that just figures!”

The tears streamed from her eyes as she jumped up and threw open the balcony doors. Shivering as a blast of cold air hit her face, she took a step outside and inched slowly across the balcony.

The closer she got to the edge, the more her hands trembled from anxiety. She was going to overcome her fear of heights if it was the last thing she ever did.

The last thing she ever did.

Her hand wiped away the tears. She leaned out slowly and peered over the edge. It was a long way down to the courtyard below. Maybe ten or twelve stories. Nobody could survive a fall that far.

Marisa bit her lip.

She glanced over her shoulder and spotted a wooden chair. It looked sturdy enough. She walked back into the room and tried to lift it. Too heavy. The legs of the chair scraped across the stone floor as she threw her weight against it and pushed it out onto the balcony. Someone must have heard that, she thought.

She stepped up onto the chair and looked straight down.

Her eyes traced the length of the citadel walls. The courtyard appeared deserted and there was no one in sight except for two watchmen on the northwest and southwest corners of the ramparts. They were too far away to notice her. If she did it quickly, nobody would even see it happen.

As the tears streamed down her cheeks, her will to live was fading fast. She stared out across the Crocine mountains and saw a thin layer of snow lightly dusting the highest peaks. When she realized she wouldn’t be around to see the Carnelian springtime flowers Arrie said were so spectacular, she began to think about all the things she’d never experience. No more falling in love, no children of her own, and none of the life her parents had experienced with each other. Nothing but a dark, endless void of nothingness after she was gone.

Or was it?

Darian was going to marry another woman. There was no future for her in Carnelia. Her past on Earth had ended in pain and disaster. She had nothing left to make life worthwhile. Nothing good could ever come from her miserable existence. Savino was right—she was a big nobody. After she was gone, she wouldn’t even be missed. They probably wouldn’t start to look for her until someone happened to notice the splattered mess on the courtyard.

Her heart wrenched in pain, but her head was filled with a strange numbness. She glanced down and knew it would be over in seconds. She probably wouldn’t even feel it. Quick and painless.

It will all be over soon.

She moved closer to the edge and lifted her foot up onto the wall. Tears dripped from her eyes and splashed onto the chair.

Do it. Do it now before you lose the nerve.

Suddenly, a strong breeze whipped up around Marisa and she felt a large, invisible hand pushing her back from the edge. A strange, comforting presence enveloped her as a deep inner voice impressed words upon her heart:

My child, I care very much, and I am with you forever. Trust in me always with hope, and do not be afraid.

An urgent pounding at the door interrupted her thoughts.

“Lady Marisa, are you there?” asked Princess Adalina from the corridor. “Please open the door! Lady Marisa?”

Marisa gasped. She jumped down from the chair and quickly pushed it back inside. She hastily wiped her tears with the skirt of her dress and took a deep breath. The door swung open to reveal the worried look on Adalina’s face.

“Oh, thank Garon,” said Adalina, relieved. “I was just resting before supper when, all of a sudden, I had the most horrible dream about you. It seemed so real that I just had to come and make sure you were all right.”

Marisa appeared calm on the surface, but inside her emotions were raging. “Well, Your Highness, I’m safe and perfectly sound, just as you can see,” she said. “But I appreciate you coming to check on me.”

“Are you indeed?” Adalina asked. “Milady, have you been weeping?”

“I’m fine. I have a small headache, but I should be okay once I’ve had something to eat.”

“Would you like to accompany me to dinner?” asked the young brunette in near-perfect English.

Marisa hesitated. “Can you give me a minute?”

“Certainly. Shall I meet you at the staircase in five?”

“Fine. I’ll meet you there.”

She shut the door and leaned against it. As a wave of peace washed over Marisa and reached down into her soul, she knew it couldn’t have been a coincidence. For the first time in her life, she was sure things would turn out all right, no matter what her future held in store.

Her father had told her once that all experiences in life, whether good or lousy, somehow built a person up from the inside out. That one small pearl of wisdom struck home with her and suddenly she knew she had a choice. She could choose to just give up and fade away or she could allow the pain, loss, and suffering to propel her through a spiritual growth spurt.

She had the power of choice.

The fear and anxiety began to drift away. Deep down in her heart, she knew Garon was real and not just some fanciful idea people used to make them feel better. Her parents had trusted in Garon all their lives. He had always been real to them.

They walked down to the dining room together and joined the others already sitting at the table. Helena, Cinzia, Arrie, Adalina, and Marisa enjoyed the delicious meal that had been prepared. But so far, there was no sign of Darian.

Arrie and Adalina spoke English to accommodate Marisa during dinner, translating for Helena and Cinzia whenever necessary. They recounted their adventures on the way to Abbadon, and the women were captivated by the story as Arrie described the escape through the woods from the rijgen. He told them about Marisa’s fall in the ice caves and Darian’s heroic rescue of her from the yarmout.

Marisa noticed Darian’s seat remained empty through the main course and even into the dessert. She wondered what could be so urgent as to keep him away from a meal with his family.

“Where is Prince Darian? Is he not eating?” she asked finally.

“The Crimson Court convened early this morning,” Arrie replied soberly. “He has been leading the members in discussing urgent matters all day. Unfortunately, he will not be joining us this evening,”

“Oh,” Marisa said, trying not to sound disappointed.

The others exchanged knowing glances around the table. She blushed, embarrassed, and quickly changed the subject. “What exactly is the Crimson Court?”

“The Court is the absolute authority and power of Carnelia,” Arrie said. “It’s comprised of twenty-four Paladin knights—noblemen of distinction knowledgeable in the history of Carnelian law.”

“Paladin knights?”

He nodded. “They typically deal with specific issues, such as the laws of succession, declaring war, and other difficult situations that arise. The governing ruler is the twenty-fifth member of the court.”

“So the king doesn’t have absolute authority?”

“Yes and no. The king, or queen—whatever the case may be—has the power to veto any resolution or amendment set forth by the Court as long as he or she can prove it is in direct violation of Carnelian law. The Supreme ruler remains the governing body and makes most of the day-to-day decisions except when it pertains to the ruling party itself.”

“So why is Prince Darian leading it if he is not the king—uh, Supreme ruler?”

“The court voted almost unanimously to appoint Darian as the acting ruler on behalf of Gregario who is too ill to preside. Savino is the only other person who may serve as acting ruler.”

“Why isn’t he here?”

“He has been summoned, but the court couldn’t wait any longer in light of Gregario’s worsening condition.”

“What are they deciding now?” Marisa asked.

The others exchanged uneasy glances.

“They are discussing the question of the succession of the throne once Gregario passes,” Adalina said finally.

“Oh.”

Silence.

Arrie brightened. “Shall we adjourn to the Green Room for refreshments?” The small group rose from the table and walked the long corridor.

As they entered the opulent room, it was immediately apparent to Marisa why it was called the Green Room. The panels were made of a carved, dark wood, and the walls above them were painted dark green. The emerald-upholstered furniture was pleasantly arranged in front of a large fireplace.

There was a strange, squarish-shaped object in the front corner of the room, and Marisa realized it was a sort of piano. She hurried over to Princess Helena and curtseyed as the others settled down with a glass of wine. “Your Highness, may I play that instrument?”

Adalina translated as her mother smiled and nodded to Marisa.

She sat down at the piano, and her fingers gently pressed the keys as she established its scales. It was more or less the same as the piano back home in their parlor, except that all the keys on this piano were made of smooth, dark wood.

When Marisa finally had a good feel for the notes of the keys, she concentrated on hitting the right notes and began to play a lively, upbeat tune her dance team had performed to during the halftime basketball game at school.

She made mistakes as she translated some of the notes incorrectly, but her captive audience didn’t even seem to notice. Adalina encouraged her to play another song as Arrie set a glass of wine down next to her. When Marisa finished, she rested for a few minutes.

For her final song, she chose a classical piece that had been one of her father’s favorites. In the final weeks of his life when he was too weak to retire to his bedroom, her dad had looked forward to the evenings when Marisa would sit down to play for him in the parlor. He would lie on the couch and huddle under an afghan while she played all his favorite songs.

It wasn’t her intention to dredge up the sad memories of her father’s last days, but as her fingers floated over the keys, strong emotions erupted to the surface. She fought to keep the tears at bay as she focused on hitting the correct notes.

After the song had ended, the final note resonated throughout the room and she rested her hands in her lap. Everyone was frozen in their chairs, mesmerized by the somber, haunting melody.

Marisa looked up with tearful eyes and saw Darian standing near the back. His applause broke the spell, and a single tear rolled down her cheek. She wiped it off with her hand.

Sensing it was a private moment, Helena and Adalina both stood to leave. “My mother and I are retiring to bed now. Thank you, Marisa, for your beautiful music and delightful company at dinner,” Adalina said. Helena simply smiled and nodded to Marisa.

Arrie stood up and offered Cinzia an arm. “Good night,” he said as he escorted his mother out of the room.

All of a sudden, Darian and Marisa were alone in the room.

“Marisa, that was extraordinary,” Darian whispered. He noticed the sadness in her face. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine, Your Highness.”

He sighed. “I wish you would not call me Your Highness. Please do me the honor of addressing me as Darian.”

“I’m sorry, sire—I can’t.”

Awkward silence.

Warmth from the fireplace radiated to fill the chamber as the soft orange glow bounced around, throwing shadows across the walls. The room was still except for the popping and hissing of the freshly-cut firewood.

“Are you angry with me? Have I offended you in some way?”

“No,” she said softly.

“Arrie is under the impression that you are angry with me. He says that you think I’ve been deceiving you. Is that true, Marisa?”

Unable to meet his eyes, she stared down at the keyboard. Deciding it would be best to say as little as possible, she shook her head.