Love Spell: Book 2 of The Grimm Laws (19 page)

T
he moment Wisteria
was out of the room, Aalexander went back to his chair and slumped into it. Every inch of his body ached. He felt old and weary. Going head to head with Wisteria had drained all of his strength. The woman was an enigma to him, as fluid and elusive as flowing water. And like water, she was just as vital to his survival, though it gave him no pleasure to admit it. Merek strode across the room and sat in the chair where Wisteria had been. For a few moments, the two men sat silently, each lost in their own thoughts. Then, Aalexander could feel Merek watching him. He turned full attention to the older man who was sitting thoughtfully, stroking his long, white beard—his gray eyes seemed to be looking right through Aalexander and into his very soul. Merek’s bald head was as smooth as an eagle egg. His long thin face was etched with interconnecting wrinkles that were as fixed as carved stone. He’d looked ancient and wise from the moment Aalexander met him. But sitting here now, studying him, against the flickering light of the candles, he was struck by the sudden awareness that Merek didn’t appear any older now than he did twenty years ago, when he first met him. How was it that the man had the power to elude time?

Merek’s piercing eyes met his. Even though they held neither judgment nor condemnation, they had a way of stripping him to the bone and making him squirm. It was obvious that Merek was not going to speak first. The man never got in a hurry. If it were up to him, the two of them would sit here—staring at one another until the rooster crowed. He perched his leg up on the arm of the chair and picked up a silver candlestick and started turning it over in his hands. “I cannot imagine what nerve it must have taken for her to charge in here and threaten a king,” he mused. “Hardly anyone dares to speak against me.” He shot Merek a meaningful glance. “Except for you and Loreena, but that is beside the point,” he said dryly. “What kind of woman does that?”

“The kind that threatens thy guards and sends them running for the hills. The kind that threatened thy kingdom … possibly even thy life.”

Aalexander shook his head. “You do not know her as I do.”

“Aye, ‘tis true. She was a great woman once—thine equal in every way, but she has changed. Life’s events have made her rigid. I fear that perhaps you are mistaking the maiden you once knew for the woman she has become.”

Merek was wrong. He knew Wisteria as well as he knew himself, but it would do no good to argue with him. “Aye, you are correct, of course.” He paused. “But what to do about it.”

“She makes a good point about the trial. Cinderella will testify to save her own skin, but that will not bring us any closer to the truth.”

“Does the truth really matter?”

“It matters to Edward. He will never know for sure if Cinderella—the future queen—loves him. He will forever doubt his own worth. He has greatness in him—a capacity to become …”

“What?” Aalexander demanded.

Merek shook his head and looked away.

“A capacity to become the King I never could,” Aalexander finished for him. The king he might have been had he married Wisteria, the king he might have been had he not acted rashly and sent her husband to his death. “If Rushton is found guilty then Wisteria will never forgive me.” He shifted in his seat. “I would rather cut off my right hand than to hurt that lad.”

Merek gave him a searching look. “Because of her?”

Aalexander put the candlestick down. “Aye,” he admitted, “because of her.”

“She is dangerous.”

“Aye, I suppose she is …” He blew out a breath. “You might as well say it out loud. I know you disapprove of my relationship with Wisteria.”

“To which aspect of the relationship are you referring?”

Having a conversation with Merek was worse than playing a game of riddles. “You think I give her too much leeway.”

“So says you.”

Aalexander chuckled. “Must you always be so cryptic? ‘Tis late, and I am weary to the bone. If you have something to say, say it. Otherwise, I am retiring to my bed.” He removed his leg from the arm of the chair and sat up straight.

“There was a time—in the beginning—when I thought that perhaps she would be good for you. However, in light of all that has transpired, the situation has changed. She holds thee in the palm of her hand. If you will remember, I cautioned you against marrying another when thy heart belonged to Wisteria. Thy feelings for her have impaired thy judgment, making thee weak. Once thy strength, she has now become thy greatest weakness.” Merek stroked his mustache. “Is that blunt enough for thee?”

Blood rushed to Aalexander’s face. He jumped up. “You are out of line!”

Merek held out a hand to stay him. “My only desire is to guide thee.” His voice remained as calm as the still waters in the moat that ran so deep that the currents couldn’t touch them.

“You would do well to remain silent about that which you do not understand,” Aalexander said through gritted teeth.

“I understand that which I see. What will you do if the boy is found guilty?”

“He must face the consequences of his actions.”

Merek looked him in the eye. “And what if she is found guilty?”

“Then …” he couldn’t bring himself to say the words. He sat back down and cradled his head in his hands. “Heaven help me! I cannot escape her! I do not know what I will do if she is found guilty! I cannot bear the thought of a world without her.”

“Aye,” he said quietly. “I was afraid of that.” Silence settled between them until Merek finally spoke. “There may be another solution.”

Aalexander raised his head. “I am listening.”

“The path will not be easy, and there are great risks, but if it is the truth you seek, then there is only one sure way to find it.”

“What are you saying?”

“The three keys.”

Aalexander’s head spun, considering the possibilities. “Can it be done?” Could it really work? Would it give him the chance to make things right?

Merek seemed to read his thoughts. “This is not only about thee and Wisteria. ‘Tis also about Edward and Cinderella.”

“Aye, of course. ‘Tis what is best for Edward,” Aalexander said quickly.

Merek gave him a searching look. “And what of Rushton? Have you given any thought as to what might be best for him?”

He frowned. “What thought would I have for him? Only that he is the son of the woman who haunts me.”

“Have you no sentiment for the lad who grew up in the castle? The lad who has been forever at Edward’s side—like a brother to him? You have admired qualities that the boy possesses—his courage, his passion, his recklessness in the face of danger, his ability to love another heart and soul—qualities that you wish Edward possessed.” He held up a finger. “Do not deny it, for I know thy heart.”

The words were like salt on an open wound. A hot anger bubbled in Aalexander’s chest. “Aye, ‘tis true,” he admitted. “But why are you speaking of it now? To torment me? To make me wish my son was more than he is?” He gave Merek an anguished look. “‘Tis enough torture for me to look upon the face of the lad day in and day out, knowing that if I had married Wisteria, he might have been mine. I do not need a reminder from thee on the subject,” he finished, his voice quivering with indignation.

“I have no desire to torment thee. My only wish is for thee to see things as they are.”

“I see things the only way I can,” Alexander said quietly.

“Then perhaps this plan will help thee to see through the glass more clearly.”

Aalexander leaned forward in his seat. An eager light settled into his eyes. “You mentioned the three keys. I prithee, tell me how it can be done.”

“The keys have long since been hidden behind a door we cannot access. A door you chose to close when you banned all magic.”

The accusation rang heavily in his ears. “‘Twas a dark time,” he uttered. His grief over losing Wisteria had made him reckless. The blackness in him was so large that the only option left was to close off the door.

“There is a slight possibility that we can go in through a crack, but only on two conditions.”

“Which are?”

“We will need Wisteria’s help.”

“Her magic,” Aalexander scoffed. “Do you really think she will cooperate? Her magic is the very reason we are having the trial to begin with.”

“As you so aptly said earlier, a woman will do almost anything to save her child. We both know that magic in and of itself is neutral—neither good nor bad.”

Merek’s patient eyes said more than his lips ever would. It was Aalexander, not Merek, who had made the decision to ban magic. Merek had counseled against it, but Aalexander was determined to ban that which he could not control. He was determined to ban that part of himself that he could not control. Perhaps a part of him, feared—even then, what Wisteria would become if her powers grew unchecked. At the very least, the ban had kept her under his control. It had kept her near him.

“Wisteria has been with thee from the onset of thy journey to the throne, and even though you are estranged from her at present … for better or worse, her fate is intertwined with yours. We will need her magic and the very essence of her will,” Merek continued, “but it will have to be combined with yours.”

The thought of joining forces with Wisteria filled him with feverish excitement. “Aye, I will do whatever is necessary … for Edward, of course.”

“That is the first condition,” Merek said, holding up a finger. “The second: the girl must speak the truth.”

A furrow appeared between Aalexander’s brows. “Cinderella? It all hinges on her? Why?”

“Because Cinderella’s circumstance is the catalyst that has brought about the dilemma. Cinderella is the link that ties everything and everyone together—the crack through which we may access the keys. Keys that will allow us to not only ascertain the truth of this particular situation, but ‘twill also help give thee the opportunity to set things right within thyself. And in doing so, ‘tis my fervent hope that perhaps you will find the peace that you so desperately seek. The peace that will help make you the king you were meant to be.”

Aalexander rubbed his hands together. “So it would seem that the fate of the kingdom rests in Cinderella’s hands.”

“Aye,” Merek agreed, “in order for us to put our plan into motion, she must speak the truth about what happened between her and Squire Rushton that night in the forest. ‘Tis the only way any of this can move forward.”

F
rom the moment Elle awoke
, she had a feeling of impending doom pressing on her. It didn’t help matters when she went to put on her favorite blue sweater, only to learn that Josselyn had borrowed it without asking and had stretched it out to the point where it was ruined. When she confronted her, she got a snide comment about how she was selfish and picky about her clothes. Then she found out that her dad was leaving on a business trip to California for two weeks. That meant two long weeks of putting up with Sera and Josselyn. She fleetingly wondered if she could get permission to stay with Adele for two weeks, but she doubted that Sera would go for it. After all, making her life miserable was Sera’s favorite pastime.

Despite the kiss that she and Rush shared in her bedroom, things were tense between them. She could tell that he was going through the motions, but there was still something holding him back from trusting her. It was so frustrating! What was she going to have to do to prove to him that she’d changed?

To top it all off, she went to her locker just before math and found Lynessa there, laughing and talking to Edward. They purposefully stood in front of the locker for a full minute, until she finally had to ask them to move so that she could get her book.
She could’ve screamed!
It seemed that the minute Rush dropped her, she moved on to Edward. She didn’t know what it was about that girl that Edward and Rush found so attractive, and why Lynessa felt the need to date the two of them! Of all the guys in school—why them? Her thoughts went back to Edward. He was acting downright rude toward her. She made a face. Not that she blamed him. Still, she wished there was a way to repair the damage that stupid phone call had caused, so they could at least be cordial to one another.

Her phone buzzed, and she looked down to see a text from Rae.

She frowned and began punching into her keypad.

Rush had been taking her to all of their practices, but they hadn’t specifically talked about it today when she saw him earlier at school. She’d just assumed that he would take her today as he’d done the rest of the week.

It stung a little to know that they’d coordinated this and had left her out of the loop. The least Rush could’ve done was to tell her. Maybe she was being too sensitive. After all, they’d not had much time to talk at school. At least he’d asked Rae to stop by and pick her up. That meant something, didn’t it?

Tonight was important because it was the last practice before the gig at the nightclub tomorrow night, and Rae was wound up tighter than a drum, trying to make sure everything went smoothly. Rae took it upon herself to be the worrier in the group.

On a personal note, Elle was hoping to talk to Adele more about the shadow crawlers. Even as the thought entered her mind, a slither ran down her spine, and she glanced around her room. It’s funny how the simplest things were starting to feel threatening. She glanced at the window, feeling the odd impression of being watched, even though nothing was there. Fleetingly, she wondered what she would do if one of those things attacked her again. Adele had said that they fed on fear, but how was she not supposed to be afraid? It was absolutely terrifying! She hugged her arms, trying to force her mind onto another topic. The mirror seemed to be beckoning to her, but she didn’t dare look into it today for fear of what she might see.

“Elle!”

She cringed at the loud voice that was shrill enough to shatter all of the glass in the house.

“Elle! Come down this instant!”

She rolled her eyes. “Coming!” she muttered, wondering what in the heck Sera wanted this time. She found her standing in the guest bathroom, her hands planted firmly on her bony hips.

“Yes? You called.” She didn’t try to hide the sarcasm from her voice.

Sera turned and glared at her. “I thought I told you to clean the guest bathroom!”

“I did. I cleaned it as soon as I got home from school.”

“Well, it doesn’t look clean.” She pointed. “There’s some sort of gunk all over the mirror.”

Even as Elle looked at the mirror, her jaw fell. There was some sort of grease … or something smeared over the mirror. “It must’ve happened after I cleaned it,” she said defensively. There were only three of them in the house, so Josselyn had obviously done it, but there was no use in wasting her breath in telling Sera that. In Sera’s eyes, Josselyn could do no wrong.

“Well, unless you get this cleaned up on the double, you’re not stepping foot out of this house. Do you understand?”

“Fine, I’ll take care of it,” she said flatly. A wave of bitterness settled over her as she went to get the Windex and paper towels. She was getting sick and tired of Josselyn’s games. Ten minutes later, she was just getting the last of the smudges cleaned up when Josselyn stepped into the room and leaned against the doorframe. She flashed Elle a smug smile.

“Aren’t you just the busy bee. Haven’t you already cleaned this today?”

“Yep,” Elle said, keeping her voice devoid of emotion. “But it seems there’s a cow in the house who couldn’t keep her greasy paws off the mirror.”

Josselyn went bug-eyed as her face turned ten shades of red. “What did you call me?”

Elle put on her best innocent expression. “Oh, I wasn’t referring to you, Josselyn. Unless you’re the one who smeared—whatever this is—on the mirror.” She eyed her. “Are you?”

A scowl twisted over Josselyn’s face. “I don’t know what you’re taking about.”

“Of course you don’t,” she smirked. “You never do.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Elle wadded up the paper towels and tossed them in the trash. “I don’t have time for this today.” She grabbed the Windex and went to walk out of the bathroom, but Josselyn caught her arm.

“I’ve seen the way you look at Huntsden when he comes over, and I don’t appreciate it. He belongs to me, and don’t you forget it!”

For a split second, Elle thought she hadn’t heard her correctly. “What?” She let out an incredulous laugh. “Are you delusional? If you think for one minute that I would be interested in that Neanderthal then you’re crazier than I thought.”

Her brows went down into a v. “You don’t think he’s good enough for you?”

“No, I don’t.” She looked straight at Josselyn. “And I don’t think he’s good enough for you either. He’s using you, Josselyn.” She tried to say the words as kindly as she could, but there was no easy way to say it.

She rocked back. “Using me how?”

How easy it would’ve been to tell Josselyn the truth in that moment, but she wouldn’t believe her. She would think that Elle was trying to put her down or steal her loathsome boyfriend.

Elle’s phone buzzed. She retrieved it from her pocket and looked down at Rae’s text.

“Sorry, I don’t have time for this.” She pushed past Josselyn and out of the bathroom.

“How is he using me?” Josselyn yelled after her.

“You’re a smart girl,” Elle called over her shoulder. “You figure it out.”

“
I
prithee
! Stop wringing thy hands. You are making me nervous!”

“Oh, I didn’t realize I was doing it.” Cinderella’s voice trailed off, and she looked up at Josselyn who was holding a peach satin gown up to her neck while studying her reflection in the mirror.

Josselyn puckered her lips. “Does this one make my skin look odd? Green … like I’m about to vomit?”

Cinderella shrugged. “I do not suppose so.”

“I am going to throw myself out the window and go for a swim in the moat.”

“Oh? Splendid,” Cinderella said, staring off in the distance.

Josselyn gave her a shrewd look. “Nay, I shan’t go for a swim but rather I am going to corner Edward, throw my arms around him, and give him a nice, long kiss. Something he evidently has not been getting from thee in quite a long time.”

“Uh-huh.” Cinderella’s eyes remained fixed on some distant object.

Josselyn groaned. “You have not heard a word I’ve been saying, you could at least try and show a little interest here!” She threw the gown on the bed and turned to face Cinderella. Her lips turned down in a petulant scowl. “I want to look my best for the feast tonight. Is it too much to ask that you think of someone other than yourself … just this once?”

Cinderella looked up at Josselyn as if seeing her for the first time. “Oh, forgive me,” she mumbled. “What did you say?”

“The feast! I want to look good for tonight’s feast!”

A shudder ran through Cinderella. The mere thought of tonight’s feast filled her with dread. She would have to sit there, smiling and acting as though nothing were wrong. With the approaching trial and Rushton locked away, it was all Cinderella could do to function—much less show interest in a ridiculous gown. She glanced at Josselyn who was now sitting on the edge of the bed, pouting. Seraphina had thought it would do Cinderella some good if Josselyn came and spent a few days at the castle with her. A few days had turned into a week, and the end was nowhere in sight. Josselyn loved every aspect of the castle, going on and on about the detailed paintings, opulent furnishings, and endless food. She drank in every moment and was always thirsty for more. It had been nice having her around the first couple of days, but her carefree attitude was starting to grate on Cinderella’s nerves. That and the fact that she practically threw herself at Edward anytime he came near. Even Edward had noticed it and had made an offhanded remark. The whole thing was embarrassing. Josselyn was the one that was in love with Edward. In a perfect world, it would be Josselyn who was marrying him, not her. Fate had dealt them both a cruel hand, and all they could do was play along until the end. She looked at her stepsister, wondering for a moment if it was Edward that she loved or the fact that he was a prince. A wave of pity surfaced, and she ordered herself to look past the pettiness. Josselyn wanted so badly to be beautiful, but with her sturdy body and plain face, the best she could hope for was adequately attractive. Her prettiest feature was her thick locks of brown hair that curled into ringlets. To her credit, what Josselyn lacked in looks, she made up for in wit. She was smart and crafty. That’s why it was so surprising that she was openly throwing herself at Edward. Were things getting so desperate?

Cinderella felt herself soften. There was no sense in both of them being miserable. It wasn’t Josselyn’s fault that Rushton was imprisoned and that she was being forced to testify against him. “Try the green one,” she suggested.

“You think so?” Josselyn’s mood lifted immediately. She picked through the pile of gowns, resting on the bed. “I am not sure,” she mused. “This red one … perhaps? It kind of goes with my hair.”

“Nay!” Cinderella almost shouted.

Josselyn’s face fell.

“Nay,” she repeated, this time kinder. “I plan to wear the red one.” She reached for the gown.

Josselyn gave her a funny look. “Red ‘tis most assuredly not thy best color. I figured you would want to wear the blue one.”

She lifted her chin in the air. “Nay, I am wearing the red.”

Josselyn shrugged and continued pawing through the gowns. “If it pleases thee, so be it.”

Cinderella was wearing red out of principle—blood red for a blood sacrifice. Rushton’s blood, spilling out over the palace grounds, covering the palace stone in a sticky red. If it were up to her, she’d get married in red. Tears welled in her eyes, and she brushed them away with the back of her hand.

“Not the tears again.” Josselyn let out a loud sigh and threw her hands in the air. “What will Mother say if I tell her that you are still weeping over that servant?”

“He is not a servant!” Cinderella spat. “He is a squire, and you know it! Do not stand there, going on about Rushton as if he were a stranger …” she clutched the fabric of her gown and began twisting it in her hands “ … as if you never knew him!” She glared at Josselyn. “There was a time when he was thy friend too. I have to pretend with everyone else, but I refuse to pretend with thee!” Tears started streaming down her face and splattering like rain over her gown.

Josselyn sat down beside her. “I know. You are correct. Rushton was a dear friend to me too. I am only trying to make thee see past this.”

“See past this? How can you be so cold?”

“Not cold. Practical. You are marrying Edward—the Crown Prince. You will be a princess and one day, a queen.” Her eyes sparked with envy. “And you do not even appreciate it.”

“Everyone keeps telling me that, but do you not see? I do not want to build my happiness on the misery of others!”

Josselyn laughed. “How dramatic you are. You do not know what will happen to Rushton. The trial has not even begun yet. None of us knows what the outcome will be.”

“Seeing as how I am being forced to testify against him, ‘tis safe to say that it will end with his execution!” She bit into her lower lip to stay the trembling.

“How can you sit there and defend him when Mother told me that he admitted to thy face that he and his mother cast a spell over thee?”

Cinderella turned to Josselyn. “What did you say?” The words cut the space between them causing uncertainty to creep into Josselyn’s eyes.

Her explanation spilled out. “Only that Rushton admitted—”

“I heard that! What I want to hear again is the part where thy mother told thee about it.” She leaned forward until she was right up in Josselyn’s face. “I told her that in confidence, and she gave me her solemn word that she would never divulge it … to anyone!”

“She did not.” Josselyn began blinking rapidly. “She did not outright tell me, I was standing outside the door when she was talking to Queen Loreena. They were not aware that I heard them.”

“She told the Queen?” The rage that rolled over Cinderella was so fierce that she felt for a moment as if it would split her in two. She balled her fists as angry tears spilled out. “How dare she? I trusted her.”