The Scarecrow King: A Romantic Retelling of the King Thrushbeard Fairy Tale (19 page)

I wanted to retort back that she needed it for her house – she and Talis had so very little that I felt awkward for taking things from her when she clearly did not have them to spare. But Annja would not take no for an answer, and she was right – we’d have nothing once we moved into our own house. So I let her fill my arms.

When I could carry no more, Aleksandr and I left their house with promises to return later in that day, once we were squared away in our new home. To my surprise, we crossed three streets and went down a tumbledown, sad alley. I kept expecting to see the streets full of yellow-cloaked beggars, but there were none. The people that walked the streets were not finely clothed, but they seemed happy and children played in the streets. Lioncourt clearly trumped Threshold, though it still did not feel like home. As the houses we passed grew poorer and more run down, I began to worry.

Was this where Alek and I were going to live?

My heart sank as we approached a small, ramshackle house tucked between two others. It was clearly empty, with the door ajar and trash covering the step. Alek tucked the goods he was carrying under his arm and insisted on checking the house before we entered, and emerged with a dead possum and a smile. “The house seems to be clear. Come in and I’ll see if I can start a fire in the fireplace.”

I wandered in slowly, hesitant to put down any of the things Annja had given me. The entire house – if it could be called that – was covered in dust. To make matters worse, it was twice as small as Annja’s tiny home that we’d just left. With three paces, I could walk across the entire room, from the front door back to the fireplace. A dark nook off to one side promised to be the bedroom. Outside, I could hear the neighbors shouting and laughing, and a vendor calling his wares.

There was no privacy, or room to stretch. Nothing. There was also no furniture, save for one wobbly stool.

I sank to it and tried not to feel overwhelmed. “This is where we’ll be living?”

Alek didn’t look up from the fireplace, busy raking aside debris to clear a spot for the fire. “I’m afraid so. This is just until we get onto our feet.” He glanced backward for a moment, “Or until we decide what to do about the marriage.”

I wanted to ask him about that, but the words dried in my throat. Instead, I continued to clutch my things to my chest. We were so very poor. How were we going to eat? How would we fill our small house with the basic things we needed to make a home? It was hard not to feel overwhelmed, and I fought the urge to cry. We had no money. How were we going to live?

“No firewood,” Alek said in a cheerful voice. “We might have to burn that stool you’re sitting on.”

How were we going to afford firewood? I burst into tears.

“Rinda?” Alek was immediately at my side, kneeling next to me. He touched my face with a gentle hand, his eyes concerned. “Are you all right?”

Crying, I wiped the tears from my face and shook my head. “I’m sorry. I’m just…just tired. This wasn’t what I expected.” Annja and Talis had been poor, but they’d worked very hard to make their small house a home. We didn’t have that – our home was not a home. It would cost too much money to make it a home.

Alek continued to stroke my cheek, concerned. “I’m sorry, Rinda,” he said in a regretful voice, and his eyes were sad. “I know this isn’t what a princess dreams of when she gets married. You’re used to so much better than this. That’s my fault. You deserve better.”

“It’s not your fault,” I said irritably, batting away his hands. “Truly, I am fine, Alek. I promise.”

He leaned back on his haunches and watched me. The worried look of concern was still etched on his face like a stark painting. “I’ll get enough money for wood and a meal tonight, Rinda. I promise. Let me go out for a few hours and I’ll be back and I’ll make things better for you. I promise.”

My heart swelled a little at that, and I nodded at him, wiping away the last of my tears.

Giving me a half smile, stood up and adjusted his sword belt. “I’ll be back shortly, I promise. The tavern is a few streets over, and I should be able to sing enough to earn us some food and firewood.”

“You estimate your abilities rather highly,” I teased, and gave him a watery smile to take the sting out of my words.

He only grinned and winked at me, and headed to the door. There, he paused for a moment and turned back to me. “Don’t open the door for anyone, Rinda. Understand me?”

“Not even you?”

“Well, me, of course,” he said with a bit of a blush. “But not for anyone else, other than Talis or Annja. The people here in the city are good people, but these are troubling times.”

I nodded at him. “I won’t open it for anyone except you,” I promised.

He gave me a brief nod and a smile, and then was gone. As he left, I set down the housewares that Annja had given me and moved to examine the door. There was a heavy plank that crossed the back of the door, and I moved it in place. I felt safer boxed into the small home, and stared at my surroundings with a sigh.

Well, perhaps I could clean a little before Aleksandr got home with supper.

To busy myself, I tidied the tiny house as much as I could. There was a fine layer of dust over everything that only seemed to move about, no matter how much I used the half-broken broom that I found in the bedroom. I wasn’t very good at cleaning – I’d never done it before – but I gave it a try anyhow.

There was a small bed in the bedroom and I aired out the blankets Annja had given us before tucking them onto it and hoping that the straw mattress would suffice until we got a new one. Mostly though, I swept up debris. There was a window in the back that had no glass panes in it, and one of the shutters had a tendency to fall open – the bedroom was filled with dead leaves and garbage, and it took some time to get it all out and the floors clean.

When everything was decent, I went through the rest of the goods Annja had given me and put them away as best as possible. As I was storing our very small possessions, the shutter fell open with a bang, and I jumped from my seat on the stool. In irritation, I stood and glared at the window. I tried closing it again, and the latch – too worn to hold – immediately slid open again. A bit of magic would fix that, I decided. My fingers patted my pocket, looking for my needle. It wasn’t there – I had left it with my filthy, torn dress at Annja’s house. I kept a spare in my pack, though, and pulled the pack into my lap to rummage through.

Instead, I pulled out my one good dress left from Balinore. The velvety dark green fabric felt like silk against the rough, serviceable muslin of my borrowed dress, and the color like a jewel. I pulled it out and held it against my body, staring down at it as an idea formed in my mind. We needed money desperately. We could sell my dress for a decent amount of coin – I knew it was expensive. The fabric alone could probably feed us for a year, and despite the torn threads on the bodice of it where the jewel had been ripped, it was a lovely dress. A princess’s dress. My fingers stroked the fabric with longing. I didn’t want to sell it. Not when it felt like my last tie to who I was. Still, it was the only thing I had that someone would be willing to offer money for.

But maybe…I didn’t need to sell it.

I thought about Annja’s delight when I had used my simple magic to fix her leaking tub. My small magic was impressive to her, and perhaps it would be to other people in Lioncourt. Perhaps she was right and that they would pay me money to perform small deeds for them. I brushed my hand over the fabric again, and winced when my fingernails – ragged and uneven thanks to the journey – grazed the fabric and snagged. I held one of my hands up, staring at it. There were tiny bug-bites on my skin from the journey and myriad scratches. My nails still had small rings of dirt under the nail-beds. My hair was a mess, and I had no jewels. No one would mistake me for anyone other than a simple girl.

But a princess of Balinore would have magic. My hand smoothed down the dress again as a plan formed in my mind, and when the shutter banged open again, a smile curved my face.

We could make money after all. Even if Aleksandr's singing would not support us, I’d find a way to make ends meet.

~~ * ~~

Alek returned a few hours later, when the sun was setting and I had carefully tucked my green dress away again. I kept my plans to myself, silent as he placed wood inside the fireplace and began to start a fire. He looked exhausted, the circles under his eyes present once more, and his normally lively expression somber. Our situation was worrying on him as well. I remembered how unhappy he’d been to see me cry and my heart swelled with love.

I loved Alek.

The thought struck me like a bolt of lightning, and I clenched my hands in my skirts to keep them from trembling. When had that happened? When had my heart started to flutter every time he gave me a blushing smile? Or teased me with a grin? When had I started to think of our marriage as a real marriage, and not just something to escape?

I wasn’t sure. But it frightened me a little. Alek was a bad choice for my future. If I decided to remain his wife, we’d be poor forever. We’d live in this hovel for the rest of our lives and I’d grow to have chapped hands and rough dresses. My floors would be dirt and my home pitiful. The thought made me want to cry. But my other option was to introduce myself to the king in the palace…

And break Alek's heart. Even worse, spend a life married to someone other than Alek.

The thought of that filled me with a racking pain. I’d never be able to do it. But what if Alek didn’t want me anymore? Why was he so cold to me now that we were in Lioncourt? Did he want someone else? The thought was so painful that I sucked in a startled, deep breath.

Alek glanced back at me and his face went white. “What’s wrong?” He scrambled up from his spot near the fire and moved to my side, all attentive worry. “Rinda?”

It was difficult to talk around the knot in my throat, and even more difficult to speak the words to him. I struggled for a moment, and then spit the words out in a rush. “Why haven’t you given me any more bride gifts?”

The look on his face turned from confusion into a blush. “You don’t want my bride gifts.”

“How will you know that if you don’t give me one?” I said in a snappish voice. “Isn’t that part of the tradition?”

He gave me a puzzled look, and then clasped my hands – I hadn’t realized that I had knotted them furiously in my skirts. “Rinda…I tried giving you a gift. Several times. Each time, you destroyed my gift. And every time you were so offended at the thought of being my wife that you looked upset. I hated the thought of upsetting you, and it became clear to me that you were not going to change your mind, so I stopped offering them to you.” A rueful half-smile crossed his face. “Even I can take a hint after a time, Rinda. I realize that this marriage wasn’t of your choosing, and I was just making it harder on you. So I decided several days ago that I wouldn’t continue to pressure you.”

I wanted him to pressure me. I wanted to be his wife. I wanted him to love me.

I tore my hands from his and placed them on the sides of his face, pulling him forward until my mouth landed on his in a desperate kiss. I felt him stiffen under me, and then melted as I continued to kiss his mouth, over and over again, frantic with the need to show him how much I cared.

“Rinda,” he tried to say even as I kissed his face repeatedly. “What–”

“I want you to give me another flower,” I said between kisses.

He pulled away from me, his expression guarded. “Rinda. You can still get out of this marriage. I won’t hold you to it. You should marry someone that can treat you like a princess.”

“I did marry someone that treats me like a princess,” I said softly, and I laced my fingers on the worn front of his jerkin, pulling him close to me again. “Someone that protects me through the night, forgoing his own sleep. Someone that thinks of me first. Someone that tries to make me smile when I want to scream. Someone that makes me smile despite myself. That’s you, Alek. I love you, and I want to be your wife.”

“I have no money–”

“I know you don’t,” I said, giving his shirt a little shake, as if I could shake sense into him. “We don’t have anything at all. Even the beggars back at home are richer than we are. But Alek… I’m with you. And when I’m with you…I’m happy. I don’t care about the rest.”

The blush returned to Aleksandr's face, and he fumbled in his pocket, then pulled something out and pressed it into my hand, wrapping my fingers around it. “I was supposed to give you this on the thirtieth day of the courtship,” he said in a low voice. “You could either take it then or deny me forever. It’s the last present.”

I opened my hand, stretched out my fingers. A plain ring lay in the center of my palm, made of shining silver. My eyes blurred.

“It’s not much, I know,” Alek said. “Someday I’ll buy you an enormous ring with emeralds and rubies and diamonds–”

“It’s lovely, Alek,” I told him softly, and slipped it on my finger. “Can I be your wife now?”

“It’s not quite as easy as all that. Lioncourt has marriage customs. We have to petition the king to get his approval. Once we hear back from the palace, we call the banns and say our final vows in front of a Librist,” he said huskily, then leaned in to clasp my hand in his and kissed the knuckles. “It’ll take a few days to get it all sorted. But in my eyes, you are my wife.”

I lifted my arms around his neck and kissed him back with all the intensity and love I felt at the moment, so happy I could scarcely breathe. The fact that we had nothing to eat was forgotten. The fact that we had no fire in the fireplace was forgotten.

And when he reached for the ties on my dress, I smiled and led him to the bedroom.

Chapter Sixteen

The next morning, I awoke to Aleksandr planting a kiss in my hair. “I have to leave for the day,” he whispered. “Talis and I are going to try and get work with one of the farm crews. Annja will be coming by to check on you. Stay inside. Promise?”

I rolled over and gave him a sleepy smile, stealing the blankets he had vacated. It wasn’t exactly a promise, but it seemed to satisfy Aleksandr. He gave a low chuckle, reached down and kissed me again, and left the room.