The Reign of Trees (4 page)

***

A fortnight passed with Illianah still at King Henrick’s castle. This was not the few days that he had earlier mentioned. She was growing impatient. She was not allowed to leave the castle, and it seemed that Prince Henrick never left the castle either. It was becoming nearly impossible to avoid him. She had trained herself to look the opposite direction whenever she was forced to be in the same room with him and she never answered his inquiries about her well-being.

She had been given needlepoint to work with, as well as canvases and paint, but those only held her interest for so long. Illianah’s restlessness seemed to be on Prince Henrick’s mind as well, because every time she sighed or resumed pacing the floor in the solar, he would ask whether she needed anything. “Yes!” she answered on this particular day. “I need to get out of this castle. I want to go
home
.”

“I can guarantee you, Princess, that no one is more anxious for your return to Burchess than I.”

She clenched her teeth to insure that she did not growl at him like a savage dog. “Then, pray tell me, My Liege, why I must remain here.”

Prince Henrick set down the paper he was studying and looked up from the table. “Your father refuses to meet our demands. It appears that
he
wants you to stay here.”

“Had you not asked for so much ….”

“What we asked was nothing, Princess. He is refusing based on his arrogant stubbornness. We may as well have asked for every gold coin in Burchess.”

“Then I demand that you release me. Your negotiations have failed. I am doing nothing to further your cause. To keep me any longer only proves your cruelty.”

“Ah, you think like your father. I should have expected as much. I will not release you, and you are in no position to be giving
me
demands.”

Illianah’s stomach twisted. She had been able to bear this imprisonment with the expectation that it would be just a short span of time. “Then what will you …?”

           
“The negotiations have not failed, nor will we surrender our cause.” Prince Henrick quickly stood and crossed the room, obviously intending to vacate the premises.

“I must commend you, Prince Henrick,” she said. “I never thought you could be so barbaric.”

           
“Barbaric?” he laughed. “And I never thought you to be so naïve.” He nodded and continued his departure, “Princess.”

 
After this exchange, Illianah determined that she was being held captive by the biggest imbecile in the Western Corridor. She pestered her lady’s maid until she brought Illianah some ink and parchment. Illianah surmised that if she wanted to ever get back to Burchess, she would have to complete the negotiations herself. She wrote to her father, stating that her captors were cruel and vicious, and she feared her life may be in danger. Her letter included the following:

Please father, I beg of you, accept their demands. I do not know how much longer I can survive this torture
.

Yes, it was a gross exaggeration. But truly, living with Prince Henrick was torture—of the most heart-wrenching kind. She was now required to be in the daily presence of the only man who had ever won a piece of her heart.

The atmosphere within King Henrick’s castle was quickly darkening. When Illianah had arrived, there was certainly an air of excitement, likely coming from the triumphant raid of Freidlenburg. That mood had carried into the first week. The castle and the courtyard were always busy; it seemed there were constant military meetings and visits from Lords from outlying villages. But within the last few days, the mood had changed. The castle went from busy to hectic; the frequent meetings now became unceasing. It did mean that she saw less of Prince Henrick. And she never saw the King, as he never left the privy chambers, not even to dine. When Illianah received a reply from her father, she understood why: Burchess was preparing to wage war on Deltegra.

The letter did not say it in exactly those words, but her father said:

Know this: King Henrick will pay dearly for this injustice. Remain strong, Illianah. If there ever was a woman who could withstand these afflictions, it is you. You will be safe at home soon enough.

Illianah crumpled up the letter and marched for the privy chambers where she was, of course, denied entrance. “I demand to speak with the king at once,” she said to the soldier stationed at the door. He explained that the king was meeting with his advisors and would not be available for some time. “I just ask for a moment of his time. It is a most urgent matter.”

This time the soldier nodded and opened the door to the privy chambers. However, he held up his hand to Illianah, gesturing for her stay. The door closed shut behind him. Illianah paced frantically in the hallway, trying to think of what she would say to the king once she was allowed to enter. She determined that the best course to take would be to strike fear into the king’s heart.

However, it was not the king who came to the hallway to speak with her. “Prince Henrick,” she said, trying to expel the repugnant taste she had in her mouth. “I asked to speak with the king.”

“He is occupied with leading the affairs of our kingdom. What is it that
you
need?”

The prince looked tense and impatient. The way he stared at her with cold, indifferent eyes made her shiver. It was as if speaking to Illianah was more vile than wading through a castle’s putrid mote.

“My father is preparing to attack Deltegra, just like I had warned. You were foolish to think that capturing me would do anything but bring calamity. Your kingdom will suffer greatly.”

Unexpectedly, Prince Henrick laughed. It was not a deep, chesty laugh, but instead a laugh that sounded like he had tried to smother but had failed. “Princess, you certainly think highly of yourself to believe that you are the cause of all this. This was at play with your father long before you stepped into Montague’s path. You are the one who is foolish.”

Illianah felt like her heart had taken a step backwards. Her father had vowed retribution against King Henrick for her capture. “I do not know what you mean; I only know that my father said he is preparing to wage an unrelenting war against you for this injustice. You would be wise to release me now, before he brings destruction upon your people.”

“Exactly, Illianah,” he said. When he addressed her like that—so informally—it reminded her of when he used to say her name, frequently, and with the familiarity of a man who loved her. She winced and straightened her back, feeling like she had just taken a lashing across her back. “You know nothing of this matter. You are merely a pawn. We thought you would offer us protection, but it would seem that nothing can deter your father from his objective: not even the love of his own daughter.”

It was as if Prince Henrick had again taken up his whip and brought it across the opposite side of her back, as his words felt equally as admonishing. Her mouth fell open while her mind searched for the words to discount his claims. But all she was able to say was, “Are you implying that if my father only loved me more, he would have met your demands?”

“What I am saying is: if your father loved power and debauchery less, he would have done anything to get you back.”

She stepped closer to Prince Henrick. He was no taller than she. She had once loved how she did not have to look up to him, nor he down at her. She looked hard into his eyes and saw nothing but bitterness there. “You are cold, and heartless, and …” she stammered as she tried to find the right word, “and ill-informed.”

A smile lit upon his lips—his perfectly-shaped, full lips—and then his eyes beamed as well, giving way to playful wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. “Ill-informed? That is quite the insult, Princess. Might I be so bold as to counter your accusation? You do not even know the meaning of this conflict. I would say you are the one who is ‘ill-informed.’”

Prince Henrick turned to leave, but Illianah was not done. “Then what will you do with me? If I am entirely useless to you, to keep me only proves you to be coldblooded.”

“We will keep you until you prove your worth. As difficult as it may be for both of us, we need to acknowledge that your presence here is not temporary.”

“I hate you,” she spat. “I hate you more than any other man on earth.”

Again, this did not gain her the desired result. He smiled so wide that his mouth opened up like a treasure chest, blinding her with its gleaming contents. Illianah wanted to grab hold of her heart to prevent it from defecting, once again. That rare smile, reserved for only his happiest of moments, was one of the reasons Illianah had fallen for Prince Henrick all those years ago. It made him seem so genuine. So unassuming.

“Why are you smiling?” she asked, again feeling like she was spitting bitterness with her words.

“That is quite the compliment, coming from you.”

“What?” This man was more than just ill-informed. He was nonsensical—nothing more than a lunatic.

But before she could say any of those insults, he said, “You cannot hate without first … loving.”

He smiled again, but this time, his lips were closed. His eyes danced with mockery.

Illianah’s chest felt as if it had caught fire; the heat quickly rose to her face. She turned and ran to her bedchamber in the tower, much like a child fleeing the teasing of an older sibling. Then she felt all the more foolish for running away from his mockery. He knew he had gotten under her skin. And worse than just getting under her skin: he knew he once had passage to her heart. She had hoped he never knew of her deep penchant for him.

At the call for supper, Illianah considered refusing to dine with the king and his son, but then she realized if she sequestered herself, Prince Henrick would be all the more flattered. When she entered the great hall, she found that neither father nor son would dine with her that evening. They were taking their meal in the privy chambers while continuing meetings with their counsel.

That night, as she sat in the darkness brushing through her hair, she was startled by a knock upon the door. It was her lady’s maid, carrying a large stack of parchment. “It is from Prince Henrick,” the servant explained.

Illianah grabbed a note from the top of the stack.

Since you will be here for some time, I hope you will feel free to write your family and friends in Burchess. Isolation does weigh down the heart. Might I suggest you write to your husband quickly? He must feel great guilt over your capture, especially considering how he left you to your own devices instead of staying to protect you. I cannot imagine his desertion sitting well with your father. You must let Prince Harrington know that you are quite well, and in good, safe hands.

Prince Henrick.

Illianah wadded up this letter, just like she had done with the one from her father, but this letter could not be crumpled enough. She longed for a fire so she could watch the letter burn while envisioning Prince Henrick’s soul being attached to that letter.

“Fine,” she said to herself. She would play whatever game it was that Henrick wanted to play.

She wrote to Leif:

My love,

Why didst thou abandon me? I wish you would have allowed me to ride with you, then we would still be together. Instead, I am lost in this God-forsaken land. To be apart from you, my new husband, is pain enough. But the pain does not stop there. If only you knew what it is like for me here in Deltegra. If only you could see the evidence of their cruelty. Then would you come to me? I have pled with my father to do whatever is necessary to gain my freedom, but he is unable to swiftly rescue me. You are brave, my love. You are powerful. You are fearless. Rescue me, I plead, most earnestly. I will forever be indebted to you. I will be yours, in every sense, all the days of my life.

Yours,

Illianah

***

The next morning, Illianah spent considerable time in front of the mirror. Her lady’s maid brushed through Illianah’s chestnut hair until it looked as smooth as molasses in a pot. While she wished to wear her hear down—knowing that she looked very becoming with her light-brown hair cascading down her back—Illianah did not want to look too impudent. She had the lady’s maid put a small braid across the crown of Illianah’s head, that way no one would accuse her of being provocative.

Illianah then selected the prettiest gown in the wardrobe. It was not the prettiest gown she had seen, but it was the best of the scarce collection at the capital city of Andoradda. It was part of the curse of Deltegra—their cloths and linens were plain and dull. Deltegra was landlocked and the cost of importing finery from across the Deep Sea was obviously looked upon as frivolous. Illianah longed for the fine gowns she had back in St. Moraine. Nothing could compare with the thrill of feeling new silk against her skin.

For the first time since her arrival, she got rid of her partlet. She had, in fact, made several more with the nightgowns she had been given to wear. Goose bumps pricked across her skin as she saw her bare shoulders and neck exposed for all to see. She had grown much accustomed to the warmth the partlet provided in the chilly mountain climate.

The gown she was wearing was crimson, trimmed with gold. It looked regal and stark against her paleness. She asked for some powder, at which the lady’s maid hesitated. “You have some, I presume?” Illianah asked.

“Of course, but it is reserved for balls and other fine occasions.”

“I will wear it this morning.”

Momentarily left alone in her room, Illianah pressed her eyelashes against her eyelids for several minutes on each side, causing them to curl upward. She blinked at her reflection in the mirror. Her wide eyes looked even more alluring with her eyelashes curling up in such a sweetly innocent manner. Already, without the powder, Illianah would dare say she looked beguiling.

When she entered the castle’s solar, she sought out Prince Henrick. He blinked twice when she entered the room, and then he quickly focused on his papers again. She had hoped that he would watch her walk across the room, as she was intentionally swinging her hips with honed skill. She set her letters down in front of him. “I thank you for the parchment. I trust that you will see that these letters make it to their post.”

“But of course,” he said, looking satisfied as he read the name on the outside of the first letter: Prince Harrington of Burchess. Again, Prince Henrick looked pleased when he saw the second letter, addressed to King Gregory. The third letter, however, made Henrick’s brow crease. “Madame Partlet? Is she a relation?”

“No. She is my dressmaker.”

Prince Henrick laughed. “You are given parchment to write to your loved ones and you write to your dressmaker?”

“She is like a sister. And since this castle is entirely devoid of female counterparts, I desire to contact her.”

“Yes, you must forgive us for being so inconsiderate for allowing Queen Sophie and Princess Katherine to pass on.”

Illianah must have looked like a fish out of water, as her mouth moved involuntarily without producing a sound. Grief passed through Henrick’s eyes. “I did not mean …” she stopped and took a deep breath. She felt like a fool and wanted to change the subject. “I want to make some dresses. If I am going to be here indefinitely, I desire not to look like a Deltegran pauper. I am requesting dress designs from Madame Partlet.”

“A pauper? Yes, that is exactly what I thought when you walked in the room.”

“This is the best gown in your castle. If this gown was in Burchess, it would be on my lady-in-waiting.”

“And I am sure she would look only half as alluring as you.” Henrick gave her a smug smile and then said, “But certainly, even you must admit that this gown is a great improvement over that nightgown you have been wearing.”

“It is not a nightgown ....” she began.

“That is right; it is a frock of modesty. We men have an intolerably small understanding of fashion.”

Now Illianah felt foolish for shedding her partlet. Was it obvious what she was trying to do? “It is a beautiful day and I wish to take a turn about the courtyard.”

“I agree with you on the first part, but the later, I must deny you.”

“You must deny me sunlight and fresh air? I have not been outside in nearly two fortnights.”

“I’m afraid your voyage into the great wild must wait for another day. I have too many troops in the courtyard today.”

“I will pay them no notice.”

“That is not what I worry about.”

“What then?”

“I worry they will notice you.” Henrick lifted the corner of his mouth in an almost-apologetic smile. “Perhaps if you were to don your nightgown, I might consider letting you be seen amongst men. What would your husband think if he knew a hundred Deltegran captains had caught sight of your delicate … neck?” Henrick said with a hint of laughter. It was almost as if he was implying that too much of her décolletage was showing.

“You are insufferable.”

“Thank you.” Henrick stood and crossed the room, walking past her without so much as another glance. “General Montague,” she heard Henrick say from the hallway, “Will you see to it that Princess Illianah is taken out for a walk today?”