The Last Witch (Incenaga Trilogy) (17 page)

Emmeline
focused her full attention toward the portrait Prince Weldon was prattling on about, her gaze falling to Queen Saba’s cheerful eyes. The Queen’s long golden hair framed her glowing face and cascaded to her waist in delicate curls. She could have been mistaken for an angel.

“Sh
e was also musical,” Prince Weldon continued. “Her melodic voice captivated all who heard her. But misfortune fell on the palace and she died young after being thrown from a horse. King Heywood was so distraught by her unexpected death that he spiraled into a dark depression. He could no longer bear the sound of music so he banned all instruments from the palace and demanded that no song be voiced within its walls.”

“
So that must be how the ban started.” Emmeline said.

“W
hich is why I was surprised to see you playing the harp last night. My brother must have gone through some trouble to remove the law for you. Don’t misunderstand me, it sounded beautiful; it’s just that I’ve never known my brother to bend the rules. He’s quite the straight arrow I suppose you could say. He likes to keep the peace.”

“Peace must be important to him if he is willing to marry a complete stranger
in order to prevent Dolmerti from going to war.”

Prince Weldon smirke
d. “Sometimes a little war can be healthy. My brother is too benevolent for his good.

“You
don’t consider benevolence an amiable quality?”

“Benevolence is a virtue that a man must care
fully weigh and balance. If he shows too much, he is seen as weak. If he doesn’t show enough, he is a tyrant.”

“I must respectfully
disagree, Your Highness. It is the amount of compassion a man shows that earns him the trust and loyalty of those in his care. He should be firm in his decisions, yet remain benevolent as he follows through. Only then will he be respected and followed with absolute loyalty.”

Prince Weldon’s smirk faded. “
You sound like my brother. Come, the ballroom is just through that arch up ahead.”

“Is there no portrait of the Crown Prince?”
Emmeline asked. It would be nice, she thought, to at least know what her future husband looked like.

Prince Weldon’s response was a cu
rt “no” as he continued toward the ballroom. He rushed past the remaining portraits and stopped under the tall arch.

“Stay here,” he said.

A few minutes later, he returned and led her into the ballroom. Gilded mirrors covered the walls, reflecting light from the moonlit windows and casting a soft glow over the parquet flooring. A small string quartet rehearsed in the far corner, their chairs turned toward the wall.

“They have been given strict instructions not to turn around,” he said.

“Why are they here?” Emmeline whispered.

“They are rehearsing
for Richmond’s return. And your wedding, of course.”

“But must they rehearse so late? Surely they have families?”

“No one knows when Richmond will return. Who knows what he is doing. He could show up without a moment’s notice and expect a wedding the next day. They want to be ready.”

The first violinist motioned
for them to begin a new piece and a slow waltz filled the room. The simple melody was engaging and despite Prince Weldon’s disturbing portrayal of his brother, Emmeline found herself stepping in time to the music, dipping on the down beats and rising on beats two and three.

Prince Weldon turned to her and
held out a hand. “Would you care to dance, My Lady?”

“
I don’t know the steps.”

“You’ve never danced?”

Emmeline shook her head.

“Wel
l then, hold your arms like this and I’ll take it from there.” He held up his arms, one higher than the other.

Emmeline raised an eyebrow.

“I won’t laugh, I promise.”

Emmeline mirrored his arms and Prince Weldon stepped forward, adjusting one of her hands onto his shoulder before taking up her other hand.
He placed his free hand on her waist and led her around the ballroom floor, dipping and rising, turning and swooping. Amazingly, Emmeline was able to follow his intricate steps. He did not lead her in one giant loop, but wound her patterns of every direction. His touch was gentle, yet firm enough for her to be confident of their steps together.

The song finished and another one followed. The tempo was
faster and the melody much livelier. Emmeline’s laughter filled the room as Prince Weldon’s steps quickened to match the music. They skipped to the beat as they flew around the magnificent room, her elegant skirts swishing as the layers of silk skimmed the floor.

An untold number of songs filled the ballroom as they danced,
the sweeping melodies carrying away the memories of the uncomfortable moments they had shared. When they stopped, their breathing was heavy from exertion but smiles spread across each of their faces.

Emmeline’s chest rose and fell with each deep breath.
“Thank you for the dance, Your Highness. That was thrilling.”

“The pleasure was mine.”

Prince Weldon grasped a lock of Emmeline’s hair and twisted it back in place. His hand lingered behind her and he pulled her closer to him, breathing in the air around her. “You smell wonderful, like the summer’s rain.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek. His face lingered near hers and he gazed at her for several long seconds.

Em
meline stepped away, the magic of their dancing gone. “Thank you,” she said. “You are an excellent dancer and I’ve had a wonderful time, but I must be heading back now.”

“Can I request your presence for dinner this evening?”

“Have you not eaten?”

“Have you?”

Emmeline shook her head. She’d been too wrapped up with her harp to eat any meals.

“Then you’ll join me?
How about in one hour? That will give me time to alert the kitchen staff.”

Emmeline hesitated before curtsying low. “
Of course, Your Highness.”

“Please, call me Weldon.”

Emmeline looked away, unprepared to address him so informally.

Wandering
back to her chambers, she tried to make sense of Prince Weldon. He was so charming at times and so cold at others. He complemented and insulted his brother all within the same breath. He was a perfect gentleman during most of their conversations and then would become too forward at the most random of times.

Emmeline reached her door before
she made sense of her thoughts. She lifted her hand and turned the handle, wondering again if Prince Weldon had really tried to kiss her. Twice. The door was open only a fraction when an arm burst through and grabbed her from inside, pulling her into the dark room. She opened her mouth to scream but a hand slapped across her mouth and a man hissed in her ear, a man whose hiss she recognized all too well.

“Do not make a sound my dear, or it may be your last,”
whispered Mahlon.

With his hands still pressed to her face, Emmeline nodded, her eyes wide.
He released her and turned her around to face him, his hands gripping her upper arms.

“What is the
meaning of this!” she demanded in a tone she hoped didn’t betray the fear she felt. Was he going to drag her into the forest again? She twisted in his grasp and he reached up to fist a handful of hair behind her neck. He pulled her close.

“We have an agreement to arrange and I wanted to be certain you were put in the
proper frame of mind.”

“What
kind of agreement?” She pulled away and he let her take a step back.

H
is eyes sharpened as he stalked around her. “You and your father were close, were you not?”

Em
meline glared at him. She had heard enough the night before to know where he was going. Mahlon was setting up the bait so he could reel her in to his games. She would play along if it meant freeing her father.

“W
hat have you done with him?”

“He is safe and alive, but that can change
quickly.”

“
I’ll do anything, just don’t hurt him.”

“That’
s what I hoped you would say. The King is dying but his successor is weak. The Crown Prince has foolish plans for continued peace. Dolmerti needs war to prosper.”

“I thought
the King wanted peace.”

“It doesn’t matter what
the King wants. He’ll be dead before the month is through. Everything was going smoothly until the Crown Prince decided to become more involved. He won’t be reasoned with. Therefore, it is imperative to the health of Dolmerti that he be eliminated and replaced by someone with backbone.”

“Like you?” Emmeline asked through her teeth.

Mahlon laughed. “Thank you, Emmeline. But no, I am not of royal blood. The people would not support me. No, someone like Prince Weldon.”

Emmeline narrowed her eyes.
“Wait, what do you mean, the Crown Prince must eliminated?” She wanted to free her father, but to kill another man? An innocent man?

“I mean,”
Mahlon whispered, “that you will take the Crown Prince’s life on your wedding night. He has grown untrusting of some of those closest to him, but he would never suspect his new little bride. It needs to look like an accident so you won’t be implicated right away. We’ll need you for a time.”

“
For what.”

“
For whatever we tell you to do. You are a very powerful woman, Emmeline, and you must first use that power to kill the Prince. Crush his skull, burn his body, I don’t care. Practice on some servants if you need to. You will have a small amount of fire to work with when the time comes. But trust me when I say it won’t last.”

“
I won’t do this,” Emmeline said.

Mahlon held up a finger, “Ah, but I think you will. Your father is, as I speak, in our custody. I will release him unharmed when Prince Weldon is crowned King. If you don’t do as I say, your father will suffer a great deal
of pain before I destroy him. Do I make myself clear?”

Tear
s streamed down Emmeline’s face. She couldn’t let Mahlon hurt her father. He had already sacrificed so much to protect her. His kingdom, his farm, his entire life’s work. She wouldn’t allow him to give his life as well.

Emmeline took deep breathes, wishing she could thrust out her hands and push Mahlon through the nearest window
. But she was powerless without fire, a precaution she knew Mahlon had arranged. He controlled her, manipulated her, and used her in his quest for war, and she hated him for it. Would she ever be free to make her own choices?

“Leave,” she
said.

“Do we have an understanding then?”

Emmeline looked at the ground, never feeling more ashamed of herself than at that moment. “Yes. Now leave.”

“Do not speak a word of this to anyone.”

Emmeline nodded.

“Oh, and Emmeline, we will address the issue of you not being in your room at a later time. You’ll regret this infraction.”

“Prince Weldon summoned me. I had no choice.”

“There is always a choice.”

The door clicked shut and Emmeline stood shaking. She had not expected their demands to be so extreme. Kill an innocent man or let her father die? She crumpled to the ground and sobbed.

Emmeline managed to stop the flow of tears before Adelia returned to prepare her for dinner. Her hands still trembled and her stomach lurched. She was falling apart and yet Adelia didn’t seem to notice, or seem to care. In fact, her mind seemed in a faraway place, on a trouble of her own.

“Would you
send my regrets to Prince Weldon,” Emmeline said. “I won’t be able to join him for dinner after all.” Not only did she want to avoid another confrontation with Mahlon, but she wasn’t sure how she would maintain any dignity with the tumult of emotions boiling inside her.

Adelia
frowned. “Forgive me, My Lady, but Prince Weldon is already waiting in the dining room. I’m afraid if you don’t join him tonight it would be a great insult to him and to the staff who have been roused from their beds to prepare your meal. Are you ill?”

Emmeline shook her head.

Without another word, Adelia assisted her into a soft pink organza evening gown that cascaded in tiers to the floor. But the softness of the fabric couldn’t soothe the frantic beating of her heart.

Adelia led her
to the dining room where a long, solid wood table spread across the length of the room. Red tapered candles rested atop silver candlesticks of varying heights. All were unlit, of course, and Emmeline bit back a longing for the sense of control they could offer her. Even one flame would help her feel steadier.

The string quartet
played in the corner of the room, their backs once again facing the wall. With softer melodies and deeper harmonies, their songs were more subdued and fitting to Emmeline’s mood.