A Wicked Thing

“I am stuck in the past too,” she said, almost in a whisper. “Or . . . stuck here.” She looked down at her feet. Her shoes seemed too bright and soft against the solid stone path. Her parents had feared the future, every second of every day. They let its possibilities control every part of Aurora’s life, and all for nothing in the end. “I miss my family,” she said. The words hung in the air, weak and useless, unable to capture even half of what she meant.

 

“I’m sorry,” he said, so quietly she almost did not hear him. He was still looking away. “But—but you have a new family. With me.” Another sigh, as though even he was aware of the uselessness of his words. Then a nod and a smile, even more decisive for the hesitation moments before. “You’re going to tie things together. Old and new.”

 

“Do you believe that?”

 

He looked her in the eyes. “It worked, didn’t it? You woke up. Why wouldn’t the rest of it be true?”

 

Not a shred of it seemed true. What did Celestine care for other people’s happiness? No, Aurora could not believe it. Those promises had been invented in the years since her curse, and they would provide comfort, it seemed, to everyone but Aurora herself.

 

“You’re wanted in court, Princess,” Betsy said as she came into Aurora’s room that afternoon. “Prince Finnegan has just arrived at the castle. He gave no notice or anything. The queen does not look happy.”

 

“Prince Finnegan?” Aurora put down her book. “Who is he?”

 

“He is the prince of Vanhelm, Princess,” Betsy said. “He hasn’t been here for a couple of years at least, but now he’s turned up out of the blue. It must be something to do with you.”

 

Vanhelm. The land of Alyssinia’s ancestors, many hundreds of years ago, before the steel and smoke drove them over the sea.

 

“What is he like?” Aurora asked as she stood up.

 

“I’ve never spoken to him, Princess,” Betsy said. She began adjusting the pins in Aurora’s hair. “I hear he’s quite handsome.”

 

The door swung open, and the queen strode into the room. Her hair seemed even more intricate than normal, with pearls woven into the braids that covered the top of her head. She pursed her lips when she saw Aurora. “Good,” she said. “You are ready. We cannot keep the prince waiting.” The queen looked rather rattled; the extra effort she had put into appearing dignified only increased the effect.

 

“The prince traveled far,” Aurora said carefully as the queen steered her through the corridors. “Vanhelm is several days’ journey across the sea, isn’t it?”

 

“Yes,” the queen said. “He must have been in Alyssinia already when he heard the news.”

 

A hush fell over the court as Aurora and the queen walked through the brass doors. The queen settled in her throne, and gestured Aurora to a spot beside her.

 

Rodric entered the room through the door behind the thrones. He smiled at Aurora, and she smiled back. Then he stopped to the left of his father’s seat, a perfect reflection of Aurora’s own stance.

 

“Enough of this waiting!” the king said. “Where is that prince?”

 

“I am here, Your Majesty. Just waiting for your word.”

 

A young man with jet-black hair marched into the room. Dashing had always seemed a description that only applied to rogues and pirates in stories, men who swung swords and romanced girls with quick words and an impossibly good heart, yet the word fit this man perfectly. Handsome, oozing confidence, with green eyes that seemed to sparkle with delight. He seemed utterly convinced of his own attractiveness.

 

He knelt on the ground in front of the king. “It is wonderful to be here again, Your Majesty,” he said. “I trust you are well?”

 

“Oh, none of that ceremony,” the king said, waving Finnegan up with a sweep of his hand. “We’re all old friends here.” But if he did not want any ceremony—if he did not want Finnegan to kneel before him—why had he called them to court at all? He wanted Finnegan to kneel, Aurora realized. He wanted to show that he was the one with the power to toss propriety away.

 

Finnegan, however, did not seem concerned. His black hair tumbled across his eyebrows as he stood. He brushed it out of the way. “I hear that Alyssinia has had quite some good fortune.”

 

“Indeed it has!” the king said. “Indeed it has, my lad. I know you were hoping for a similar blessing, but—well, I guess Rodric is just more of a man, eh?” He gave a booming laugh, as though he was teasing, as though it was all in good fun. Finnegan smiled in a good-natured sort of way, but Aurora noticed that his eyes had a hard glint to them.

 

“I am afraid we were not expecting you,” the queen said. “So soon after the happy event occurred. The wedding is not for three weeks yet. You find us quite unprepared.”

 

“I apologize, my dear Iris,” Finnegan said. “I was hoping to arrive in time for the awakening ceremony, but we were delayed by rough seas. Once I heard of Rodric’s success, I knew I could not wait until the wedding to give my congratulations and meet the famed princess for myself.”

 

“Of course,” the king said.

 

“We are blessed to have her,” the queen said.

 

Finnegan fixed Aurora with an intense look. “It is a pleasure to meet you,” he said. He walked toward her, took her hand, and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “You are even more beautiful than they say.”

 

Aurora bobbed into a curtsy, her head bowed. Finnegan’s smile grew.

 

“So courteous too. What a delight.” She got the strange feeling that he was mocking her. His eyes roved over her, and she fought the urge to step away.

 

The queen also seemed to have noticed Finnegan’s gaze. “It is truly lovely to see you again, Finnegan,” she said, “and I hope we will dine together soon. I trust the servants will make you comfortable until then? You must want to rest, after your journey.” It was spoken like a dismissal, but Finnegan continued to smile.

 

“I always find that travel energizes me, especially when a long-lost princess is waiting at the end of it. I was rather hoping I could dine with you and the princess today. What better time to make up for one hundred lost years?”

 

The queen inclined her head. “I appreciate your enthusiasm,” she said, “as does the princess, I am sure. But she is still rather overwhelmed after her own journey, and we are run off our feet with plans for the engagement ceremony in a few days. We so wanted to be here to greet you, but we cannot linger. You understand.”

 

“Oh, yes,” Finnegan said. He grinned at Aurora. “I understand perfectly.”

 

The queen stood and offered Finnegan a slight inclination of her head. Aurora sank into another curtsy, executing the perfect sweep of her skirts. Finnegan’s eyes followed the movement closely.

 

“Insufferable man,” Iris said as she marched Aurora away from the room. “Stay away from him as much as you can, Aurora. He has expressed too much interest in you already.”

 

“Stay away from him? Why?”

 

“That prince cannot be trusted.”

 

“He’s your guest,” Aurora said as Iris steered her into another corridor. “If he is untrustworthy, why is he here?”

 

“Do you think we can trust half of the people here at court? Of course we cannot. And we need Finnegan appeased. He and his kingdom have too much power by far. But you must remember, for all he says, he has no interest in you. Only in what he can gain from you.”

 

“Like you, you mean?” Aurora said.

 

The queen stopped. “No,” she said. “We are trying to keep you safe. Keep the kingdom safe. So if you want to leave your rooms again, I suggest you listen to what I have said, and keep your impertinence to yourself.”

 

Aurora refused to look away. She was going to have to fight to build her place, but not here, not where the queen could see. “Yes, Your Majesty,” she said.

 

 

 

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