The Firethorn Crown (9 page)

“Come on.” Junia led Ivy upstairs to lie down.

“It’s not working.” Ruby frowned and watched Neylan write until she couldn’t fit anything else on the page.

Neylan ignored her, underlining some letters, circling others, intent on finding her code. Ruby and Wren returned to painting flowers.

“At least she didn’t faint,” Wren said.

Lily squeezed Neylan’s shoulder and received an absentminded pat on the hand in return. She should be upstairs resting, too, but she couldn’t settle with her mind so preoccupied. She wouldn’t change her clothes, either. She wanted to deflect Prince Holic’s attentions, not gain them, no matter what Mother may have led him to believe. Gathering her sketchbook, she curled up on the couch next to Junia. At least she could stay out of trouble for a couple of hours.

*

A knock awakened her. She stood on sleep-shaky legs and hastily smoothed out her dress and straightened her belt.

“Here.” Junia took a pin out of her own hair and tucked up a stray lock.

Lily took a deep breath. She’d make the best of this and hope that Prince Holic’s kind nature would find excuses for her odd behavior.

Eben met her outside the door.

Her chest felt heavy. Words wanted to spill out, but she bit her tongue. She couldn’t even say hello.

His eyes were guarded. “I’m to escort you to the butterfly gazebo.”

She tried to smile, and he tried to return it, and they both ended up looking at the floor. He stepped to the side, and she headed to the gardens.

She’d never noticed the tiles held so many patterns. She should sketch them sometime.

“Lily?”

She almost bumped noses with Hazel.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in the gardens by now?”

She’d been unconsciously taking the long way to the gazebo, and Eben hadn’t even teased her about it.

Hazel had given her an idea, though. In an ivory dress dotted with pearls, her golden hair wound like a crown atop her head, Hazel was sure to draw Prince Holic’s attention away from Lily.

She joined Hazel, hooking an elbow around her arm. The hallway Hazel had come from led to the gazebo.

Eben backed up to let them pass.

“Wait.” Hazel pulled against Lily. “I can’t go with you on your date.”

Eben missed a step, and his boot squeaked on the tiles. He didn’t know. She wanted to explain that this wasn’t a real date, that she wasn’t interested in Prince Holic. Instead, she rushed past him, dragging Hazel along. What had Mother done?

Hazel glanced at Eben over her shoulder, and then slowed Lily to a more ladylike stroll before they entered the gardens. Glad she wasn’t going to put up a fuss, Lily let her guide them and greet the few courtiers out enjoying the day. Hazel chose paths that avoided passing too near the Weaver’s Maze.

Too soon, they approached the butterfly gazebo, much larger than Prince Tharius’s vine-covered structure. Butterflies drenched the air, floating from flower to hedge to fountain. Prince Holic’s hair blended with the orange-flowering-vine thing growing up the gazebo, his gaze darting from the girls to the two intimate place settings at the table, his smile steady. He hid his confusion almost as well as Eben.

Eben stationed himself just outside the gazebo, his tense profile visible past the nameless vines.

Hazel addressed a maid stationed among the foliage. “Viv, please fetch another place setting.”

“Oh, no need.” Prince Holic smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners, genuinely pleased that they were both joining him. Or that he didn’t have to ask if he’d misunderstood which princess he’d been meant to dine with. He waved at the table. “It’s just finger-foods. I can use a napkin. Or, my fingers.” He wiggled them.

He seated them at the place settings and took the chair opposite Hazel.

“Thank you, Prince Holic.”

Viv poured drinks into the two glasses, set one in front of Lily, and then hesitated.

“We’ll share.” Hazel motioned for Viv to set the second glass in front of the prince. He accepted graciously, but he waved off the plate when Hazel offered it.

“Fingers, remember?” He popped a tiny sandwich into his mouth. He’d shaved.

Lily rubbed her own cheek, pointed at his, and grinned.

He smiled back, his gaze flicking to Hazel. “Ah, you noticed. I got lazy while traveling.”

“Will you tell us about your journey, Prince Holic?” Hazel said.

“Please, call me
Holic
. And you, too, Your Highness, when you get your voice back.”

Lily’s skin prickled. How did he know? Wait. Mother had probably said something, so that Holic wouldn’t think her silence odd.

Eben turned, frowning. His hands clenched and unclenched. And then his forehead smoothed. He got it. Finally. He’d realized that she
couldn’t
say anything the previous night. Maybe he wondered why none of the other girls had said anything, not realizing that they couldn’t tell him, either.

Now he knew she couldn’t speak, but he still didn’t know the real reason why.

Holic chatted about his travels and his home. Lily filled her plate. Her silence didn’t bother him, and he even tore his gaze away from Hazel every so often to include her with a yes-or-no question.

Hazel tapped her foot silently under the table, her knee bumping into Lily’s. She’d never been uncomfortable with attention before. It would be funny, under different circumstances.

After he swallowed the last morsel, Holic rose and offered Lily his arm. “Will you walk with me? I haven’t seen much of the gardens, yet.”

She stifled a sigh. No harm in a stroll.

He offered Hazel his other arm. Either he’d forgotten he was supposed to be on a date with Lily, or he didn’t want to offend Hazel by excluding her. Probably both.

Holic led them around the gardens, and Hazel pointed out the highlights. Lily smiled or nodded from time to time, when required. Eben followed the appropriate number of steps behind. After a time, Holic’s meandering took them near the maze, but he made no move to go in. He asked about the firethorn hedges, and Hazel was in the midst of explaining about the crown when something startled a small cloud of honeysucklers from the interior.

Lily jumped and took a small hop away from the maze, pulling Holic and Hazel both off balance. She’d heard something. A snapping branch, maybe. Eben scanned their surroundings, unblinking.

“Are you all right?” Holic asked.

She managed an apologetic smile, and then shot Hazel a pointed look.

Hazel turned wordlessly and guided them towards the topiary garden.

Lily wanted to gag her imagination. The sound must have come from someone out for a stroll in the spider-infested, overgrown Weaver’s Maze. Prince Tharius couldn’t have found a way out; his curse didn’t permit excursions.

But he’d never explained how he’d been able to watch her.

Chapter Nine

E
ltekon’s topiaries were taller and more elaborate than those in the undergarden. Lily’s favorite, a flock of sheep, grazed just past the latticed entrance. Three years ago, one of the gardeners had imported a shrub with purple-black leaves and crafted a herding dragon to overlook the flock. Real woollies had no purple coloring, but, then, real sheep weren’t green, either.

As diverting as the hedges were, and despite Holic’s comments and questions, Lily couldn’t keep her mind off the noise in the maze. Of course they weren’t alone in the gardens, but she kept hearing boots scuffing and leaves rustling nearby, as if they were being followed. Although more open, the topiary garden offered almost as much privacy as the maze, with tableaux set up and separated by thick, flowering bushes and evergreens. Someone was interested in
their
scene.

Paranoid, she looked back. Eben’s gaze met hers briefly, and then slid over her shoulder. His jaw clenched.

Her head whipped forward, and she gritted her teeth. Runson had found them. No wonder she’d heard noises; he’d been searching the maze again and then followed her here. At least Prince Tharius hadn’t somehow escaped.

“Lord Runson,” Hazel said.

Unless he wanted to be rude, Holic couldn’t pass on the narrow path with a princess on each arm. Lily wanted to plow Runson down right now. He was in the way in more ways than he knew.

Runson stood his ground. “Princess Hazel, what a pleasure.” Eyes wide in fake surprise, he bowed and then addressed Lily. “Might I speak with you a moment, Your Highness?”

She didn’t need this.

Holic looked from Lily to Runson to Hazel, and back again. He studied Eben’s face and posture. “I’m sorry, Lord . . . ?”

“Runson,” Hazel said in a flat tone. Shockingly, she didn’t offer any further introductions.

“Lord Runson.” Holic smiled. “Could you be more specific? There are three highnesses here, you see.”

Runson’s smile vanished.

Lily looked at her feet, lips pressed tightly together, cheeks tight with suppressed laughter. She heard a whisper of a cough behind her. She’d have to bite her tongue if Eben laughed.

Runson shifted but didn’t back down. “I would like to have a moment to speak with you,
Princess Lily
, if you would be so kind.”

Holic ignored Runson right back. “Lily—”

Runson sent a sharp look in Holic’s direction.

“Do you wish to speak with this man?” Holic asked.

She shook her head.

“Well, then, we’ll be on our way. Good day, sir.”

Holic’s stare should have been enough to speed Runson along, but his feet stayed stubbornly planted. He addressed Lily as if she’d not responded to Holic’s question. “You know I’m going to have my way in this. It’s now or later, Your Highness.”

Holic’s friendly tone grew strained. “Sir, do I need to ask our guard to escort you from the gardens?”

Runson scoffed, but he sobered when Eben stepped forward. They all knew, and probably even Holic guessed, how much Eben would love to
escort
Runson from anywhere.

He gave Lily a small bow. “Until later, Your Highness.” His boots clicked a quick retreat on the stones.

She doubted that would be the last of him, and now he had her at a greater disadvantage. If she found herself alone with him again, she couldn’t divert his proposal, short of giving in to her desire to hit him in the mouth. Not even Riva would condone that. She would have to answer him with a head shake and hope he got the message.

She stepped away from Holic. This date was over—she needed to get out of sight.

“We should be going.” Hazel patted Holic’s arm and let go. “Thank you for . . . everything.” Her smile said she meant it, and Holic beamed in return.

Hazel hesitated, and that told Lily more than any words. Lily couldn’t ensure anyone’s happiness, but she would do what she could. Taking Hazel’s hand, she placed it back on Holic’s arm and pointed towards the wildflower garden, giving them both a nudge.

“Lily, I can’t—”

Lily waved her arms around like Melantha did to ward off something she didn’t want to hear.

“I think your sister wants to avoid abandoning the foreign prince. It seems you’re to be her replacement.” His smile got bigger, if that was possible. She’d guessed correctly, then, at least on his part.

“But . . .”

And probably on Hazel’s part, too, judging by the silence coming from her open mouth. Hazel might be aghast at being attracted to someone who wasn’t an heir, but she couldn’t deny it. This would give her an excuse to spend time with Holic and not feel she was abandoning her life goal.

“Shall we?” Holic took a step in the direction Lily had indicated. “It’s an order from your crown princess, so we’d better listen. Don’t you think? And someone needs to explain what
that
was all about.”

Hazel frowned, but a smile lurked at the corners of her mouth. She couldn’t help herself, and Lily was glad for her. Lily nudged them again, and they strolled off, neither one of them looking back.

Lily headed for the opposite end of the topiary garden, away from where Runson had disappeared, although he could be anywhere by now. He could be lurking on the other side of the bushes. But she wasn’t alone, so she put it out of her mind.

Eben stepped into place behind her. His boots struck hard against the stone. She wasn’t sure who he was angry at. Her? Runson? Not Holic, surely. That would mean he was jealous, and he didn’t have those kind of feelings. Did he?

They entered the palace, and she feigned interest in the view outside the windows, the tapestries, the paintings. The tiles. Anything to avoid greeting people. She could have nodded and not been considered rude, but she had no desire to interact with anyone just now. Except Eben.

He offered her a few words while a guard held open the sitting room door. “So, you can’t talk right now?”

She shook her head, wishing she could elaborate.

“I guess that explains . . . some things.”

He said nothing else. She let the door close, leaving him confused. And still angry.

*

She woke later on her bed to soft candlelight and hushed bustling as the girls readied themselves for their return to the undergarden. Mara thrust a cold meat pie into her hands, and Gwen tied her slippers on as she ate. The worn shoes didn’t match her dress, but it didn’t matter. The illusions would change them. And before that, they would be invisible.

Melantha still wore her boots. Lily pointed and raised an eyebrow, questioning her choice.

“You know I live in boots.”

“Mel, you can’t dance in those.” Gwen finished tying her own slippers and tossed Melantha’s over.

Melantha caught them and threw them under the bed. “I’m not dancing.”

“Then you can stand with Ivy.”

“Maybe I will.” She winked at Ivy. They both knew she couldn’t stay still for that long.

Lily finished the meat pie and wiped her hands on her dress. No one would see the grease stains, either.

“Can we take a candle?” Junia asked.

Coral shook her head and fluffed her red waves. “It would be invisible.”

“Would it?” Azure fetched a lit candle. “Let’s try.”

The girls formed a line. Lily took Melantha’s hand, and they disappeared.

“Interesting,” Neylan said.

Coral was partly right. The candle vanished, but the flame burned bright, casting shadows and floating about as Azure moved. Someone blew it out, and a puff of smoke rose in the middle of the room.

Lily gave a fresh candle and flint to Melantha, who stowed them in the belt pouch hanging next to one of her daggers. Junia mouthed a
thank you
.

Gwen lined the girls up at the door, and Lily peeked out the spy hole.

Their tower rose from a corner of the palace, so that two hallways led from the door. Tonight, two guards patrolled. Someone had ordered an extra guard. Maybe Eben. She wanted it to be Eben, to believe that he suspected something and took precautions to ensure their safety. Even if it was useless.

“What do you see?” Wren whispered, and someone shushed her.

Lily watched long enough to see the guards walk all the way to the end, one in each hallway, and then turn back. She would have less than a minute to lead the girls out while the guards turned their backs to the door. She took Melantha’s hand, thankful that their door didn’t squeak and groan.

A short breath, in and out.
Now.

She pushed the door slowly, just in case, and led the girls out quickly. Hazel eased it shut, and the small click sounded like the fall of a rock.

Stone cooled her back as she inched along the wall. The guard turned, heading back towards the door. She froze; her heart drummed in her ears, but he didn’t see them.

Barely daring to breath, she crept on.

Halfway there. Two feet from the nearest guard.

Someone sniffled, just a whisper of a sound. Lily halted again, and the guard paused, looking up and down the hall. He stepped to the window directly in front of her, and she held her breath.

He was six inches away.

Sweat beaded above her lip.

This wasn’t going to work.

But it did. Satisfied that there was no danger, the guard moved on.

Breathing more heavily than she liked, Lily led the girls down the stairs, through hallways, and into the maze, avoiding three maids, one guard, and a courtier stumbling in late from the festival.

They made it as far as the rose-covered fountain. She stopped and wiped her sweaty hands on her dress. She dreaded the return trip but was thankful there would be one.

Melantha led with the candle, and Junia followed close to be near the light. Lily was content to let them go first. Even with a map, she wouldn’t have trusted herself to find the mirror right now.

Melantha found it easily, nestled among the firethorns, just as it had been yesterday—had it been only yesterday?—and plunged through the imaginary hedge.

Lily fixed her eyes on the yellow flame rather than the cold silver glow in the distance. How could she have mistaken that for moonlight? The hedge gave way to stone, and she counted the stairs again to take her mind off the way the grey walls absorbed the light, rather than reflected it. She’d missed the first fifty or so, so she started there.

By the time they reached the black forest, she’d lost count again. She let go of Junia’s hand, and the other girls broke into two’s and three’s, huddling close.

Melantha stepped off the path and held the candle up to a tree. “Look at this.” The ruby and emerald gashes threw back sharp rainbows, and the obsidian trunk shone with depths of purple, blue, deep gold, and blood red.

“It’s beautiful,” Hazel said. She had nothing in her collection to compare.

“If we’re done playing with shiny trees,” Mara said, “can we get this over with?”

Melantha blew out the candle, and they walked silently to the archway.

Prince Tharius waited on the other side, dressed as he had been the previous night, except he wore no gloves.

Foot poised to step through the arch, Lily remembered that she could speak. She turned to her sisters, mouth open, but had no words. Or, rather, she had so many built up that she couldn’t choose which ones to say.

“It’s okay,” Neylan said.

Lily took a deep breath. She would gather her thoughts and speak with the girls before the night ended. For now, she gathered her courage and hastened into the undergarden. Her new gown hissed as she spun to watch the girls’ transformations. Once through, they each wore unique dresses, different from the previous night, but the dark color scheme hadn’t changed.

The archway had encased her in a gown of shiny black leather, held up by a tight corset and golden straps. The weight of it pressed her feet uncomfortably into the ground.

Ivy came through last, hand-in-hand with Gwen. Lily gasped at Ivy’s dress and then glanced around, half hoping a shawl would appear out of nowhere.

A ripping sound, a shriek from Coral, and Hazel wrapped a length of delicate black lace around Ivy’s shoulders and across her front.

“Did you have to do that?” Coral shook out her gown as if she expected it to repair itself. She could easily spare more lace. Except for transparent sleeves, black lace draped the entire length of her. Even Coral might not realize how stunning she looked in such a dress with her hair flowing soft and loose. She was, by far, one of the most colorful things in the undergarden.

Prince Tharius’s courtiers noticed. They waited, eager to escort the girls onto the dance floor. He waved them over.

After getting Lily’s nod of approval, the girls let themselves be led away, and she followed with Prince Tharius. No detours tonight. They joined the others on the polished earth floor in a frenzied whirl of shadows and candlelight. The music played too fast and too loud, and Lily could only focus on his eyes. She wondered how they didn’t crash into the other couples. Two dances left her gasping in the tight gown. The music softened, and Prince Tharius led her off the floor. He had not said a word.

They walked to the bridge, and she sat stiffly, but gratefully, on the hard stone bench.

He joined her. “I am pleased to see you again.”

His voice—deep and dark, like his home—sent a chill up her spine. She couldn’t say the same, since it meant returning to this place, so she said nothing. She’d already gotten used to that.

He twisted a small ring on his finger.

“May I?” she said.

He did not remove the ring, and so she took the offered hand to get a closer look. His fingers twitched. Twelve stones, as black as the underground sky, were set in gold around an oblong piece of glass. Underneath, flaxen strands had been woven into a simple, tiny braid. More black stones spilled down the sides.

The hair was lighter than Hazel’s. “Your Mother’s?” If so, he must favor his father.

“Yes.”

“What was she like?”

“She was beautiful.” He adjusted the ring. “And kind.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Then you’re the only one, besides me.” He wound his fingers with hers and laid them on her knee. “They blame her, you know.” He tipped his chin towards the white-haired men on the dance floor. “The sorcerer wanted her. He cursed my father and grandfather, hoping she would leave them. She shouldn’t have died in the dark.”