The Stepsister's Lament Page 4

  “Good morning, little gem,” my new husband said as he burst through the door.

  “Are they called antlers

  When they are seen on a moose?

  Are they something else?” I wondered aloud.

  He laughed at me again before moving toward the creature in the window. “Sorry about this. I fed Bernard as a calf and he keeps coming back for sugar cubes. And yes, they are antlers.” After patting the beast once more, he sat down beside me on the bed. “I have an idea that I want to run past you this morning. Do you feel awake enough to listen?”

  “I believe I may be,

  But first, a query.

  Where is this place that we have run,

  And how far is it from where I’m from?”

  “We are at my family’s hunting lodge in the Fey Forest, about a day and a half on horseback from your little cottage. My carriage makes the drive much faster. Manticores are able to travel pathways that are nigh impassable. They use the magic in their tails to generate… You know what, it’s not important. Suffice to say, we’re in an inhospitable place that your grandmother will hesitate to follow us into. Granted, we aren’t too far in but this area isn’t popular with the Fey ever since they were sieged at the Northern Front, so no one saw which direction we traveled. We should be safe for a bit.”

  I was pretty positive that he was wrong, but saw it would do no good to comment. Instead, I kept staring at Bernard and quietly promised myself that I’d be ready to move when trouble finally struck. And I knew for a fact that it would. My grandmother wouldn’t allow something silly like crossing over into a possible war zone deter her.

  The moose shook his head and left the room, seemingly disturbed by my stares.

  So encouraging. Even the moose realizes that this isn’t a safe place to stay. Then I turned my attention back to the redheaded man in front of me.

  “Are you ready to hear my plan?” he asked. Deciding to put us both out of our misery, I nodded instead of putting together a poorly written poem.

  He smirked slightly, letting me know he was aware of my reluctance to speak. “Well, I was thinking about your prophecy and it got me thinking, have you ever asked the seer? I mean, it could be that it was never intended for you at all. It could have been aimed at either of your sisters or even made up by your mother. Seers aren’t always the most reliable.”

  The idea rattled around the room for a moment before settling in my head. Finally, I asked,

  “How would we find her?

  And once found, can we be sure?

  Truth is hard to see.”

  “Ah. Well, for that part of my plan, I’ll just call in a few favors.” I cocked my head to the side, confused by the lack of information, so he elaborated. “My family is rather well known in certain circles. My grandfather in particular had a tendency to collect…” he rubbed the back of his neck, and then continued. “Well, he traded favors with many people. Some of them are quite powerful or in possession of knowledge of the realms.”

  I nodded.

  “That could work, I suppose.

  But what if no one knows?”

  “Don’t worry. I spoke to my grandfather. He gave me a couple names of people who might have an idea. Really, only one is viable, given the fact that you’re being actively followed. The only thing is… you may not want their help once you know who they are.”

  The silence between us was as obvious as a moose head in a window. I couldn’t figure out why this was so important to him, why it even mattered, but more than that, I couldn’t stand how he paused before describing his grandfather’s informants. Finally I burst out,

  “Well, do go on!

  I doubt I’ll say your wrong.”

  My new husband took a deep breath. “Well, the first is a Fey. She is rather notorious after she was framed by some other Fey for cursing a child.” That sounded odd, but slightly familiar. “She might have some ideas about your curse. She is the closest to us, so we’ll be visiting her first. Grandfather also suggested heading to see a queen who might be able to help us. She is in the opposite direction, but much closer than the rest of the options. He was also hoping to have me check in with her, mostly because he has been hearing of erratic behavior. He’s a bit worried. There may be some damage to a looking glass we have to fix before we leave. I hope you don’t mind.” I shook my head. It all sounded fine so far. “That mirror might be useful if we can get it fixed. So, what do you think?”

  “Your grandfather suggested this course?” He nodded.

  “Then we should go to his first source.

  Let us hope he has not sent us into danger,

  Or worse, to our deaths among strangers.”

  He blinked. “Well, that took a rather dark turn, especially considering your name is ‘Joy’. Or are you called that because your mere presence brings joy to those around you? Your beauty surely brings joy to my eyes.”

  I jerked back slightly, stung by the flirtatious tone. He’d been a bit arrogant when we first met but not that morning. In fact, he had seemed slightly awkward and very sincere. It was like a switch had been flipped!

  While I was considering all this, the man cocked his head to the side slightly and looked me over analytically. Desperate to divert his attention, I blurted out something I had been wondering about since I opened my front door and saw him standing there.

  “That reminds me, you know my name,

  But have not given me the courtesy of the same.

  What do I call my husband, good sir?

  We would not want introductions to cause a stir.”

  And the switch flipped again. Before that day, I had never seen a man fumble over such a simple question or change personality so quickly. I could literally see him deciding if he should lie to me or not. Finally, he finished the internal diatribe and responded.

  “I can’t tell you. I wish I could, but it’s a family tradition. You are more than welcome to call me anything you like and I’ll tell you if you guess correctly. It’s a magic thing. It would not go well for us if you didn’t figure it out yourself.”

  I blinked before staring into his eyes, looking so much like the leaves of deep forest in late summer, and tried to tell if he was lying or not. Sincerity and a slowly growing warmth filled his gaze, but no deception. Well, my family could hardly be the only one with frustrating magical problems. At least he didn’t turn people to gold when he touched them. I’d heard of a king in the south who accidentally turned his daughter to gold a few years back. There was a big to-do about it as he searched for a cure. Rumor had it he found one, but inadvertently betrothed his daughter to a river god in the process. He’d neglected to read the fine print on his cure.

  Back to his name, I chided myself, reigning in my errant thoughts. I decided to try just naming him something and see what happened. I doubted that I’d be cursed for giving him a bad name. And if I were, maybe it would cancel out the other curse!

  “In order that confusion should cease,

  I think that you look much like a ‘Reese’.

  Does this meet with your good pleasure?

  Or do you find it wanting in some measure?”

  Christopher’s friend blinked and laughed. “You, my lady, have more than a small measure of luck! Either that or you have cheated somehow, because you have stumbled upon my nickname. My grandfather gave it to me so my friends would have something to call me. I wonder how you knew…” He eyed me speculatively, but said nothing more on the matter, simply directed me out the door and into a dining room far bigger than a hunting cabin should ever boast.

  As we walked, I pondered how I had guessed Reese’s name. Granted, I had always been fairly good at recognizing plants on sight as helpful or harmful, but never so much with people. And never had I guessed someone’s name. It almost seemed like a coincidence. It couldn’t be though. The name had practically blazed in my mind before bursting off my tongue.

  Reese pulled out my chair with a flourish and pushed it in as I sat. It was a
bit of a curious feeling. No one had ever acted so chivalrous toward me. In fact, it was usually the exact opposite. The feeling was… nice. He brushed his fingers lightly on the back of my neck, as if by accident, before moving away. The shiver that went through me banished all pleasant feelings. The man was clearly dangerous, at least to my usually sensible mind.

  “So,” he began as I took a sip of my water, “what do you think about legitimizing this marriage?”

  Water very nearly spewed across the table as I choked on my drink.

  “Perhaps this is not the time.

  It is hard to speak when I need to rhyme.”

  His took in my reaction and red face and understanding dawned.

  “Heavens, little gem, that is not what I meant! I didn’t mean we should consummate the marriage, not that I wouldn’t be amenable to that as well, but not until we know each other better. I just wanted to know if you wished to marry me formally, so that it was more than just a royal decree. Maybe set a date and invite our families?”

  Before either of us could speak again, a maid entered with breakfast. A plate heavy laden with poached quail eggs and some sort of hashed meat was placed in front of me. I sent up a quick prayer of thanks, using the food as an excuse to think about his proposal and calm down a bit.

  Marriage had never been in my plans for life. I was the ugly stepsister to the stunning Cinderella. No one really wanted me. Portia had said it perfectly when she was 10: Who’s going to look at either of us with Cindy around? We’re just the sad donkeys next to a racehorse. My blood sister was obsessed with horses. Whenever Mama wasn’t around to hear she was wont to start spouting facts about them and comparing everything in life to them.

  Reese sat patiently while I pondered our situation and my past experiences. And the amazing flavors on my plate. Seriously, I’d never had such a fantastic breakfast! Our food was consumed in companionable silence. Unfortunately, it could not last.

  Just as the meal began to wind down, there was an explosion. I was thrown from the table, but found my body cushioned by Reese. He had appeared so quickly. I never even saw him move. We bounced once and then lay there for a moment, before the heat hit and time seemed to race forward.

  Reese pulled me to my feet as the west wall replaced its pale blue paint with orange and yellow flames. He yanked me away from the table as the waves of heat grew more intense. Then we were out the door and barreling down the hall much faster than I thought possible. A few startled cries echoed from other parts of the building as we flew back the way we came. Calls for water rang out from the courtyard, but Reese avoided that path. Instead, he led me back to my room and had me pick up my bag before we exited via the window.

  “Quickly!” my husband yelled as he lifted me onto the back of a large, coarsely furred creature. After leaping on behind me, he called out, “Move, Bernard! We need to lead them away!”

  So, there I was, astride my husband’s pet bull moose, riding madly away from a burning hunting lodge, and all I could wonder was what Portia would say if she could see my mount. The girl was convinced only horses were meant for riding. Unfortunately, or perhaps it was actually quite fortunate, a wolf howl derailed this train of thought, cutting through the pounding of Bernard’s hooves and reminding me how little I had to laugh about.

  She had found me; there was no doubt about it. We probably shouldn’t have stayed put for so long, and I definitely should have convinced my husband that she wouldn’t be put off by the area. Reese and I were going to have to move quickly if we were to stay ahead of her. Too much was in motion. Riding a runaway moose with no reigns through unknown woods pretty much summed up how I felt right then. I had a feeling the woods in this scenario were only going to get darker and more dangerous.

  Chapter 4: Into the Woods

  The smoke finally dissipated from the sky a few hours after we escaped, proving that the fire had been put out. That was a great relief to me. I’d been worried that the whole cabin (could you call it a ‘cabin’ when it is the size of a manor house?) would have gone up with everyone still inside. I knew of at least one case where my grandmother locked people inside a burning building, but since we had escaped, I figured the servants must have as well.

  We rode for the rest of the day and only stopped when it became too dark to see. Bernard was amazing. He never seemed to tire and showed an innate connection to his riders, slowing only when it became too much for me to handle. I was beginning to suspect that more than a little magic was used on the creature as it was growing. The only problem was that a moose was never meant to bear a rider, let alone two. Added to that, we had no tack to make riding him easier or even remotely comfortable. Without a bridle or saddle, he was difficult to hold onto and I kept nearly slipping off his back. Moose hair is very coarse, but not uncomfortable to sit on. It’s thick and dry, almost feeling matted, and it sheds like crazy! In short, it was possibly the most awkward ride ever.

  I was incredibly grateful to be off the creature when Reese called an end to our ‘fevered flight’. His words, not mine. I’m not kidding. He actually said, “Come, let us take a moment to rest amidst our fevered flight,” as he lifted me off Bernard. “For one so lovely as yourself should not be consigned to journey astride so inelegant a beast of burden. Alas, but he is the only creature available at this time, though he does contrast with you so as to bring your elegance to even greater heights.”

  “Why do you speak with so flowery a tongue?

  I’m the one from whom poems are wrung.

  Or do you aim to take my place

  And become a laughingstock apace,” I griped at him.

  He sounded like one of the poets I was always reading to try and improve my speech. My studies never helped do anything but make me think more formally.

  Reese laughed and helped me stabilize myself. My legs felt like water laced with fire, unstructured and full of pain.

  Okay, I really need to cut back on my studies if that was the only simile that came to mind. I shook my head and turned back to Reese.

  “I wanted to make you feel a bit better,” he replied. “Obviously I failed, but at least I made you think about something besides how tired and sore you are.”

  He smirked at me, but his green eyes were lacking the usual sparkle and his shoulders were rolled forward slightly. It wasn’t very noticeable, but was so different from his earlier flawless posture, which I’d had plenty of time to analyze due to sitting behind him all day. He was probably just as tired as I, but was just able to hide it better. After all, you have to have perfect posture to stay aboard a moose. Could be the next fad among up-and-coming debutantes!

  “Your words were diverting and proved their worth,

  But perhaps you should be more true to your birth.

  You need no airs to make me smile.

  Simply sit near me for a while.”

  His back straightened once more and he bowed gallantly to me before helping me sit against a large tree.

  Mother had always told me that men liked flattery as much as women did. The trick was to make them feel like they had your respect and appreciation. It was easy enough to do with Reese because it was all true and he deserved to feel good about himself after saving me that morning.

  The crickets echoed in the clearing as Reese settled down next to me. It was odd to sit so close to a man… well, anyone who wasn’t family, really. I was so used to being avoided and despised as Cinderella’s evil stepsister and had never had much time to think about what life was like away from that stigma. Still, there was no way I would bring such a thing up to him. That would require discussing my lack of socialization and I firmly believe that after a certain point blushes can become permanent.

  Besides, there was no point in getting too close to him. Reese would soon get over his habits and realize that he had no need to be kind to me. Most people did fairly quickly. Okay, that’s not true. Most people didn’t start with those habits at all. From what I’d witnessed with others, he’d soon tire of exu
berant flirtation and relax more.

  Looking up at the trees, it was difficult to believe how much had happened in the past day. Many people believed that the Fey were the original inhabitants of our continent. Most of the countries were named using ancient Fey words. Even my own country of Alenia simply means ‘sea of grass,’ referring to the vast plains in the central part of the country. They were an important and influential, albeit less-than-social, people group. To be among the ancient trees, see the glorious land where few humans had ever tread was both exciting and part of the reason I was so uneasy. The other part was probably a lack of personal history with the area.

  I didn’t know the dryads here, or the Fey. My aunt had not crafted a home in these clearings. These trees did not shelter me when I was alone in the world, separated from my family. They did not reveal their secrets, their magic, to me, nor guide me when lost. I was still in the forest, but these were not my trees. They were similar enough, but felt… bigger somehow. Not just actual size, it was more than that. The very atmosphere was older and more stifling. It was unsettling.

  “How can a place feel so familiar and make me feel so lost?

  It is like seeing a bloom in the summer covered in winter’s first frost.”

  A masculine arm wrapped around my shoulders, making me jump. He ignored my skittish behavior, using his other arm to pull me into a hug. When I settled, his fingers began gently running through my hair. Without my permission my body relaxed.

  I finally understand Mother’s cat and his obsession with being petted, I thought to myself.

  “Joy, I hate to ask,” my living pillow began. He breathed in deeply before starting again. “I hate to ask when you are finally relaxed, but why is your grandmother after you? I know it has to do with more than just the prophecy. Sure, you possibly killing her might be a concern, but why wouldn’t she try and stop that by keeping on your good side? Or… or killing you as a child?”

  My shoulders lowered incrementally, making me realized just how tense his question had made me. Reese must have thought the same because he started massaging my neck. It took all I had to not groan in pleasure.