Thea's Tale (Sisters Of The Curse Book 1) (10 page)

“Father?” She hurried to catch up to her father.

“Yes, Thea?”

“Should we not leave some of the guards here to ensure that the ladies all get to their chambers?”

“Yes, we should. I have already done so.”

“Thank you, Thea, for thinking of them,” Ceridwen interjected. “I’m pleased to see you watching over your court.”

“Of course, Mother.” Thea withdrew and stayed close to Adelaide as they left the hall.

“Addy, you are always welcome to share with me,” she said. In spite of the earlier rebuff, she didn’t want Adelaide to feel as alone as she herself had been feeling.

Adelaide sighed. “Can you not leave it be, Thea? There is nothing you can do.”

“I realize that. I merely do not want you to feel alone in any distress you may be feeling.”

“Can you share with me, Thea? I know you as well as you know me. There is much you are keeping to yourself these days,” Adelaide said with spirit.

Thea didn’t know what to say. Adelaide was the most steady, most even-tempered of all of them.

“You are correct. I would like to unburden myself, but I will be honest, Addy. I am unsure of what to say. I do not wish anyone to have to conceal anything on my behalf.” Her surprise at Adelaide’s words moved her to be more open than she would normally.

“Then let us both sleep on it tonight, and we can see if we are in a more sharing mood tomorrow,” said Adelaide. That didn’t sound all that promising to Thea.

She kept silent as her parents bid them goodnight, and then Archibald and three other guards escorted them to their rooms.

“I shall have men at the doors all evening, Princess,” he said to her as they entered. “I would not wish anything to occur unexpectedly.”

“Thank you, Archibald. Whatever would I do without you?” She patted his arm.

“I will return before the morning meal, my lady. If you have need of me, I will be here.”

“Thank you. Sleep well, Archibald.”

Thea was the last inside the chambers, and she closed the doors behind her. She heard Archibald murmuring to the guards. The noise made her feel safe.

When she entered into the sleeping chamber, Isobel, Sybbl, and Mirabelle were sitting on Isobel’s bed giggling. Everyone else was in various stages of disrobing. The lack of sleep the night prior and then a late night tonight took its toll.

She was about to say something when Adelaide spoke. “Will you all please go to the solarium if you don’t wish to sleep? I find I cannot keep my eyes open and need to go directly to bed.”

“Of course, Addy!” Isobel jumped up, with Sybbl and Mirabelle right behind her. “Sleep well, dearest.”

They left the room, still giggling.

Thea undressed slowly. Suddenly, the energy of earlier was entirely gone. She gratefully got into bed, pulling the bedclothes up to her chin. A serving girl moved through, snuffing most of the candles that each girl had on a small chest near her bed. Everyone was tired, because there was no chatter. A slight murmur from the solarium began to lull her to sleep.

But sleep came at a cost. She could hear the sounds of Adelaide crying quietly in the bed next to hers, and Thea could feel the tears slide down her own face at her sister’s pain.

She finally fell asleep when the tears had dried on her cheeks.

***

The ceiling of the hall opened to the sky, or nearly so. There were so many candles and candelabra, and chandeliers that Thea marveled at the expense. Musicians played a cheerful tune, and Thea smiled at her partner. He was very lively, much as she herself felt.

All her sisters were here, all beautifully gowned, and each partnered with a handsome man. Everyone looked happy.

Then they were in the woods that sparkled and danced, and she knew they had to hurry, hurry, because—

Thea woke with a gasp, sitting up in her bed. She looked around wildly for a moment, still seeing the glittering woods. Her heart began to slow as she realized she was in her own chambers, and her sisters all slumbered around her.

This made three nights in a row that she’d dreamed of the hall and the woods. The dancing was new. As was the feeling of panic just before she woke.

She stilled. Even the thought of moving was frightening. She took a mental inventory of how she felt. Something was wrong with her foot. Fearfully, she pulled her feet from the bedclothes. The left foot appeared, with nothing wrong. When she pulled out her right foot, her mouth fell open. She was wearing her dancing slippers. She’d last worn them the night her father announced her betrothal. She brought her foot close to untie the ribbons that held the little shoe in place, and gasped.

The heel and toe were entirely worn away. Her gasp turned to a scream as she saw blood seeping from the place where her big toe had worn through the slipper. She screamed again and again, unable to grasp what had happened, how her foot came to be this way.

Her screams had all her sisters tumbling from bed, rushing to her.

“Thea! What is the matter?”

“Thea, are you hurt? What is amiss?”

Thea was unable to speak, although the comforting arms of her sisters around her shoulders calmed her screams. They all jumped as they heard the bang of the main doors to their chambers slam against the wall, and footsteps as someone ran to them. No one moved, no one spoke. Thea felt literally frozen with fear.

Archibald appeared in the doorway to the room.

“Princesses! What is amiss? Who is screaming?” He came in at a run and didn’t stop until he reached where they were all clustered around Thea’s bed.

“Look at her foot!” Thea couldn’t tell who had spoken, and then it was lost as they all began to speak at once.

“Your Highnesses, please!” Archibald’s voice rose over everyone else. “Please! Let me speak with your sister!”

Everyone stopped talking. Archibald knelt down in front of Thea, gently drawing her foot to him. He looked at the slipper, and carefully removed it from her foot.

“Thea? What has happened? Why do you wear your dancing slipper? Why is your foot bleeding?”

The silence was absolute as everyone waited for Thea’s response.

She opened her mouth, and no sound came out. She inhaled, and tried again. Nothing came out. She couldn’t make her thoughts stop swirling. Catrin’s words haunted her. “You have brought a curse upon yourself.” She had thought the engagement, and all of her sisters’ feelings were the curse, but clearly, Catrin was more hateful and insidious than that. This had to be part of the curse. Thea couldn’t figure out how, or why, or even what exactly was happening.

She began to sob; great, tearing sobs that shook her entire frame. Archibald looked at her for only a moment before scooping her into his arms. “Run ahead to the physician!” He commanded the guard who stood just outside the door to the princesses’ suite. The man took off as though pursued by demons.

Archibald stopped to get a better hold on Thea. She let her head fall onto his shoulder, still crying, not even caring about how undignified she looked, or how many people would see her as he brought her to the physician’s quarters. All she knew was that she felt safe in his arms, as she always did with him.

Her sisters erupted into questions and noise again. Archibald raised his voice for a second time.

“If you would, please, my ladies, ready yourselves. Do not leave your chambers. I will leave my men outside the door. I shall send the king to you as soon as I deliver your sister.” His words were calming to all of them, Thea could see. It was always so with Archibald.

“Princess Thea, can you tell me anything of how you came to be so? Please, my lady. I cannot help you if you cannot give me any information.”

The stress of the past week overcame Thea, and she blurted out, “We are cursed! I angered a witch! She told me…she told me…she insisted I give him up! That I wasn’t good enough, and I would endanger him, and I didn’t believe her and told her to mind her own business! And now, she’s cursed me! This is a curse! We are cursed! I don’t know what to do! I don’t know what to do!” Her voice rose to a shriek as she screamed her anger and fear and frustration.

“Princess, Princess…please!” Archibald sounded alarmed. He set her down on the closest bed and walked a few feet away. “Thea, you must calm down. Let me get you a kerchief, my lady, and dry your eyes, and then we will solve this tog—”

Archibald’s words were interrupted by a groan from above. Everyone in the room looked up in time to see the great chandelier start to sway. Held up by strong chains that took three men to lift it up when lit, it was rarely used. Two large crossbeams formed the frame. Decorative ironwork held the candle holders. No one made a sound as they watched the huge piece move as though pushed by the hand of a giant. Suddenly, without any warning, the chandelier detached from the ceiling. Everyone watching seemed frozen, unable to move.

With a crash that seemed to echo forever, the chandelier fell directly where Archibald stood. It knocked him to the ground.

Thea clasped her hands to her mouth, unable to move, speak, or do anything. She could not see anything of Archibald under the crossbeams. Nobody moved until the screaming started.

Chapter Five

Thea sat listening to her sisters talking and crying. It had taken six strong men to lift the crossbeams and heavy, iron chandelier off of Archibald’s lifeless body. Her limbs still felt as though she could not move... Had this really happened? How? She had been telling him about the curse, and—

She gasped. The sound went unheard with all the noise around her. She had been talking about the curse. The curse she didn’t really believe in. Catrin had warned her not to talk to anyone. She’d screamed it to anyone who could have been listening, and Archibald died.

She squeezed her hands over her mouth, wanting to take back what she’d said. How could this be? How could Archibald be gone? How could he be gone at her hand? Or rather, her words.

The panic she’d felt seeing her bleeding foot felt like nothing compared to this. She’d killed a man. Somewhere, Catrin was laughing. Thea could feel it, almost hear her. That horrible, horrible woman. She’d known Thea would not heed her, and she had laughed about it!

And now, Archibald was dead due to her folly.

How was she going to explain this?

The curse! She sprang to her feet. She’d exposed her sisters as well! She looked around the room, her eyes wild. She could hear shouts and movement from outside their room, but in here it was just her sisters. He’d sent the other guard out, so maybe that guard would be safe.

Her thoughts flew to her sisters. Had she doomed them as well? This had to be contained. She would never forgive herself the death of Archibald, but if one of her sisters died from this, she would not be able to go on. This had to stop now.

“Sisters! Sisters! Stop! This will not help!” She heard her own voice, sounding calm and in control. In reality, her mind screamed and wailed for the man who’d kept them from harm for their whole lives.

Around her, she could hear her sisters weep openly. Archibald had looked after all of them. His wife had died before he’d been assigned to them, and they had not been blessed with children. He had taken to all of them immediately, and they all loved him. Thea knew she did not suffer alone.

Except for the fact that she’d killed him with her words. No one else could bear that burden. She would carry this until she died.

***

Thea sat with Esmay and Adelaide on a settee in the solarium. The rest of her sisters were scattered throughout the room. No one talked. Thea felt sure that they were just as shocked as she was.

“What happened?” Her father stood before them. He had come in quietly, so quietly that no one noticed.

He took in the scene before him, but looked at Thea. “How did this happen?”

Thea sighed. Always, it fell to her. Which wouldn’t be so bad if she were not drowning in her guilt. It was all she could do not to blurt out the whole story, but she was properly frightened. The fact that Catrin had told her not to talk about this, and then just casually mentioned that she felt certain Thea would ignore her, and learn her lesson—she knew someone would die, and she didn’t bother to warn Thea about how harsh or final the lesson would be. She could feel her heart harden. Whatever else happened, she would never forgive Catrin for not telling her the entire truth.

She took a deep breath as she stood up. “Father, I don’t know what happened. I had woken from a nightmare, and my foot was bleeding, and—”

“You’re hurt? Why has no one seen to you? Or even told me?” Aland interrupted.

“Father! My wound is of no concern! Really!” She glared at him.

Aland looked abashed. “You are right, Thea. I’m sorry. I am devastated by the loss of Archibald. I should not have snapped at you. Please tell me how this happened.”

Thea could hear the pain in her father’s voice. “He was a few steps from me, going to get me a kerchief. The chandelier made a horrible noise, and then it fell on him. I couldn’t see him at all under the beams of it. Could any of you?” She looked around for confirmation. Everyone shook their heads, some of them still crying quietly.

“Thankfully, Amel arrived with the guard, and his men raised it so that Amel could pull Archibald free. The damage was done, though, Father. He died…” Her voice trailed off. She still couldn’t believe it. It felt like it was someone else. But she needed to finish the story, so that Archibald would be remembered as the hero he was.

“I would like, if you would allow me, to plan his funeral. I would also like him to rest in our family plot. He was family. He died for us.” She pulled back her shoulders and prepared for argument from her father.

“I think that would be appropriate,” he said, looking down. “I can’t believe he is gone, and I am sorry I was not here. I have no objection to him resting with our family. He has earned it.” He sighed heavily. “But that doesn’t tell me why this happened. How could that chandelier fall? It’s chained up!”

Thea waved a hand. “Amel has been in there since they took Archibald away. I don’t know why it fell. Only that it did.” She sat down, and Esmay put an arm around her shoulders.

“Father, we would all like to be his chief mourners,” Viviana said, tear streaks visible on her face.

“We were his family,” said Mirabelle. The rest of her sisters were nodding in agreement.

“I agree,” said Aland. “Daughters, I am so very sorry that he is gone, especially in such a way. The women are tending to him now. I will send the priest to you to plan the funeral.” He turned and walked to their sleeping chamber.

“Thea, we cannot ignore what happened,” whispered Sybbl, her eyes on the door to the other room. “What you said before it fell—what were you talking about?”

Thea leaned in. She, too, kept her voice to a whisper. “Are you all having dreams of a ball and a forest that glitters?”

Nods all around. “We cannot speak with all these people around. I don’t want more to end up like Archibald.”

Isobel jumped up. “Are you saying these things are connected?” Her voice was irate.

Thea leaned in and pulled on her gown. “Sit down! I won’t risk talking of it when others are around. Let’s wait until we are alone, and then we may speak of it.”

Isobel just looked at her, and Thea could see that she was debating how to respond.

“Sit down, Izzy.” Celestria, one of the quietest of the sisters, said softly. “Thea would not keep things from us. We’ll talk. There is no need to make a scene.” Even though she was one of the younger sisters, Celestria spoke with such reason that it was rare they ignored her.

Isobel sat down, glaring at Thea. “See that you do tell us all, Thea.” She narrowed her eyes, and then turned her back.

Thea wisely kept her mouth shut. The rest of her sisters were looking between the two, and whispering amongst themselves, and she could see that the tide was against Isobel, but she knew that once she told them the truth, that would change.

Talk stopped as a number of men muscled the chandelier sideways out of their sleeping chamber. They slowly walked towards the main doors, taking care not to drop the heavy piece. Thea hoped it would be burned.

After it had been taken out, their father came back with Amel.

“Sad as it is, I believe this to be an unfortunate accident,” said Aland. “I will not have another installed in its place. I don’t believe it is used much, is it?” He looked to all of them for confirmation.

“No, Father, it’s too much trouble.” Angharad spoke up. “After watching the maids have to call some of the steward’s staff just to raise and lower it, we decided we’d rather do without.”

“You are good girls,” Aland said. He sounded tired, Thea thought.

He put his arm on Amel, and Thea could see that Amel was similarly affected. Archibald was beloved by all.

“As much as I hate to bring this up, we must choose another guard for you. I, too, am crushed by the loss of Archibald. But the fact remains that he saved you, and his being close by you saved who knows how many of you. You cannot be unprotected.”

He was right. She didn’t want anyone else to be at risk, but Thea couldn’t say anything to her father. He would die also. She didn’t understand why her sisters seemed fine, when Archibald had died almost the moment after she’d said something.

“Now, Archibald would not have left you without someone to stand in for him,” Aland said kindly. “He and I had already discussed someone to replace him, should such a thing ever be needed. Not that I ever thought it would,” he said, almost as if to himself.

“Who did you have in mind?” Emaline asked.

“Archibald was of the mind that Marek, Earl of Courceny, would be the best choice.”

“No!” Celestria stood up. “Why would a nobleman want the job of a guard?”

“It’s actually a position of great honor, Celestria,” her father said, giving her a look of puzzlement. “Archibald earned it through services to the Crown. Marek has done the same. I will not quibble with Archibald’s judgement. That he chose Marek for this says all that I need to know.”

He walked away from them, ending the discussion.

“No,” said Celestria quietly, watching her father leave. She sank back down.

Thea wanted to speak to her, reassure her that Marek would be safe, but as her next official act would be planning the funeral of the previous head of their Guard, it seemed cruel and shallow to say anything. She hadn’t realized that Celestria had feelings for Marek. Angharad took Celestria’s hand, but Celestria didn’t speak.

With the sleeping chamber cleaned and the departure of the king, the last of the guards and serving girls left. As the door closed behind them, Isobel leapt up.

“Now tell us what you were shouting about before Archibald was killed.” Her hands were on her hips, and her anger no longer hidden.

Thea sighed. She’d been doing a lot of that lately. “Can we at least call for some refreshment? I don’t even know where to start.”

“You mean you were not just having a nightmare?” Emaline asked. “I didn’t think anything of it, myself. Sorry, Isobel,” she said, casting an apologetic glance at Isobel, who made a noise of disbelief.

“No, I wish I had been. I do have something to tell you all. I must ask, though, for some food and drink. We did not have breakfast, and I just don’t...I don’t want to do this, but I have to. I’d rather have something to eat and drink, if you don’t mind.” She glared back at Isobel. She could see the judgement in her sister’s face, but Thea felt certain that had their situations been switched, Isobel would not have handled herself any better. Izzy struggled with reigning in her temper.

“Sit down and stop glowering at me!” She snapped at Isobel. “You’ll get your precious truth, more than you want.” Thea stood and went to the door to seek out a serving girl. The sooner this was done, the better, though she couldn’t see how she might endanger them any further than they were already.

She hadn’t lied, however. How to tell them? What to tell them? Best to just start with being whisked away to Catrin’s tower room. She didn’t want to tell them about Casimir, particularly as Isobel seemed to think she had a claim on him. But she didn’t see how she was going to get around it.

She spoke to the serving girl, and then closed the door, leaning against it while trying to sort everything out. A small, bitter voice said that Catrin was right; she was very alone. There would be no confessions to Lisette. She could not risk losing her. She’d have to confine her complaints to Lisette to her dismay over Sebastian.

Sebastian! She’d not thought of him even once since she woke this morning. He’d not shown himself either. That felt odd. He ought to at least have put on a show of looking in on her after the tragedy of Archibald’s death. She didn’t think he cared as much as he said he did, though she didn’t think he was a villain either. Well, generally not a villain. If he had an inkling of how Casimir felt, he ought to have withheld from seeking her hand. That would have been the chivalrous thing to do.

But he hadn’t, so why hadn’t he been here to see if she was well? For the first time today, Thea smiled. She didn’t want his hand, yet here she stood, judging him for not properly appreciating it.

She consigned Sebastian to wherever he might be. He wasn’t her concern at this moment.

Faster than she thought possible, someone knocked at the door. She opened it, and the serving maid stood there with three other girls behind her. All held trays of food and drink. The kitchen never failed to send up everything the princesses might like. Probably a good thing, Thea thought. They might be here for some time.
The servants hurried to lay everything out. The atmosphere felt charged, the only sound was the platters being placed on the table.

“Will there be anything else, my lady?” The girl asked Thea.

“No, thank you. If we need anything, we shall ring for you. Would you please inform His Majesty that we will not be joining him for luncheon today?” She knew that the death of Archibald would allow for their absence.

The girl bobbed a hasty curtsy and left.
Once the door closed behind her, Thea walked to the table, and poured herself a cup of chilled cider. She took a long drink, refilled her cup, and then sat down again.

“All right. I promised you honesty. I ask that you listen to the end. Will you do so?” She met the eyes of each of her sisters. Even Isobel, whom Thea considered her harshest critic, nodded.