Chapter Twenty-One

The evening of Lilyrose’s twelfth birthday saw the palace flooded with light. Apart from Edmund and Arthur, the other guests were extended family; even then they numbered near seventy.

Knowing she had to prepare, Lilyrose instead sought refuge in her father’s library, craving some peace, which was in short supply with the added guests. It was not a large library, with most of the books mirroring Lionel’s interests – battle treatise, castles and the management of large estates – but the shelves on the far wall, to the right and somewhat hidden, held ballads, sonnets and a few tales.

Her fingers traced the gold lettering on the spine of a small book of sonnets, but her attention was elsewhere. Four years, she thought, is that all the time I have left? Each yearly celebration now feels like the clock of my life chiming my last remaining hours.

A frown puckered her brow. What’s the point in learning how to fight? I can’t protect myself. I don’t even know what that woman looks like.

Her breath caught as the now familiar feeling of being engulfed by her fear started to build. She pinched the tender skin on the inside of her arm, her way of shocking herself out of crippling fear. Her breath escaped noisily through parted lips, and she allowed herself a wry smile. Don’t touch spindles. That’s all I have to do, not touch any spindles.

The sound of a book falling made her jump. Turning, she saw Arthur straightening, and yelped.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I wanted some quiet. Usually I find that peace in my chamber or outside.” He shrugged, reaching to rub the back of his neck. “And you? I thought you’d be getting ready.”

“I wanted some quiet too. There’s something soothing about being surrounded by books.” When he nodded, she said, “You feel the same?”

“Is that so hard to believe?” he asked with a laugh.

“I didn’t mean it like that. But I’ve not seen many books at your home.”

“The only books we have are in Father’s private chamber. One day, I hope to build up a library like this.”

Lilyrose wrinkled up her nose. “With all these dry titles?”

“Not everyone finds them dry.”

As their laughter subsided, silence followed until Lilyrose said, “I’d better go before Tilly–”

“Wait.” He put his hand out to stop her. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask.”

Fidgeting, she waited for him to speak, but he seemed to be searching for the words.

“Do you wonder. Do you ever question our betrothal?”

All she could do was stare.

Arthur raised his hazel eyes to meet her deep blue ones.

“No,” she said softly. “Do you?”

“It seems a strange thing, to promise two people to each other when they are so young. I wonder if it ever occurred to our parents that we might fall in love with others.”

Her heart thudded painfully in her chest. She didn’t want to hear the answer but heard herself asking, “Have you? Fallen in love–”

“No, no.” He laughed. “It was simply a thought. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“Oh.” His words failed to convince her.

“To be honest, I’ve wondered more for your sake.”

Her frown deepened as an unwanted thought crept into her mind: the only reason he’s asking is because he no longer wants to be tied to someone cursed to die, who will possibly sleep forever.

“Lilyrose, I want you to know.” He paused and took a shaky breath. “If ever you wish to marry another, I won’t stop you.” The words fell from him in a rush.

She glanced around, a fluttering sensation in her stomach. It took her some moments to speak. “You don’t wish to marry–”

“Of course I do. This isn’t about me, I promise, I would gladly marry you. I simply want you to know you don’t have to marry me if you don’t wish to. I’ve been thinking on this for some months now, since Ronal’s sister was married. She didn’t want to marry the man she’d been promised to, she’d fallen in love with someone else. Father not only had to grant a special release, he also insisted on paying the bride price that family had been expecting.”

Lilyrose nodded as if she understood, but she remained convinced it was because of the curse. “I haven’t fallen in love with anyone else, Arthur, and I’ve never thought about marrying anyone other than you.”

The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled, but she couldn’t tell if he was relieved by her reply or not. As for her, she would say nothing about this new worry, to Arthur or to anyone else. Instead, she would lock it away in her heart together with her other unspoken worries, alongside the unfamiliar feeling of betrayal that Arthur’s words had unexpectedly created.

Lilyrose sat, not very still, as Tilly braided her waist-length, dark gold hair, entwining it with purple ribbon. She gazed at her reflection, taking in the pair of amethyst gemstones that sparkled in her ears, matching the stone on the silver chain around her neck, presents from her parents.

“There, my lady.” Tilly stood back, head tilted slightly as she admired her handiwork.

Getting to her feet, Lilyrose turned and craned her neck to see the reflection of her back. “Thank you, Tilly.”

“Give us a twirl then, my lady,” said Tilly, smiling widely, her hands clasped before her.

Stepping back, Lilyrose dutifully held her arms out and twirled around. The silver cords on either side of the bodice of her lilac gown had been tightened slightly to accentuate her waist. From there the skirt flowed freely to float around her. A pair of plain purple slippers completed her outfit.

“Lovely.” Tilly’s smile faded as she raised her brows. “My lady, why so serious? This is your birthday, you should be happy. Guests are waiting to celebrate with you.”

Lilyrose hesitated, still preoccupied by her conversation with Arthur. She fumbled for something to say. “What-what if I, trip? And fall? I’m not as clumsy as I was, but I still have my moments.”

“My lady, what’s with this talk? This isn’t like you.”

“It’s-it’s just.” Plastering a smile on her face, she faced Tilly. “It’s nothing, Tilly dear, I’m just being foolish.”

She patted her young charge’s cheek. “Nerves, I suspect. Come, my lady, I’ll walk you to the stairs.”

Lilyrose followed her maid, her smile fading, her thoughts returning to Arthur. Should she free him from their betrothal? But that would mean cutting the cords of another net that represented safety and security. Yet, the thought that he might not want a cursed betrothed crawled after her like a sick dog.

As she danced with Arthur, resplendent in a black tunic with scarlet trim, talking with her as if nothing was amiss, she realised she couldn’t bear the thought of losing the familiar comfort of his friendship.

“Lilyrose, I must apologise in advance. I won’t be dancing as much. Henry and I have agreed to take it in turns to stand with Ronal.”

“Why?”

“This is his first time in a setting like this, and he’s finding it unnerving.”

A warmth filled her chest, momentarily smothering her worries. “What a good friend you are.” Smiling up at him, she decided she wouldn’t release him from their betrothal. She didn’t care if it was a selfish choice. Why should she be expected to give up any time with him, with only four years left before the curse claimed her?

Later that night, Lilyrose and Margaret sat cross-legged on their beds, facing each other.

“I don’t believe I’ve ever danced as much as I did tonight,” said Lilyrose, hugging her pillow to her chest.

“And not all with Arthur.”

Grinning, she shook her head. “Our uncles and cousins have never been so insistent before.”

“That’s because you’re not a little girl anymore,” said Margaret, inclining her head.

“You didn’t dance as much as you usually do, though.”

Margaret shook her head, lowering her gaze to where her fingers picked at her pillow. “I was waiting for Ronal.”

“Oh.”

“I wanted to dance with him, so I was keeping myself free. But Henry and Arthur wouldn’t leave him, so he couldn’t ask me. If he’d wanted to.”

“Oh, Margaret, it was because this was Ronal’s first time around so many people. Arthur told me he and Henry decided to keep him company, so he didn’t feel uncomfortable.”

“Oh, I see.” She raised shining eyes to Lilyrose. “He’s so different to the other men, don’t you think? There’s something about him, I can’t explain it. Do you feel it when you look at him? I want to spend more time with him, but Henry is always there. I know this is a mean thought – after all, he is my brother – but I wish Uncle would send Henry back to his duties.”

Lilyrose made as if to frown but smiled. “I’m sure you don’t mean that.”

Her features softened. “No, I suppose not.”

They turned the lamps down and snuggled under the covers.

“Henry wasn’t always with Ronal, though,” said Lilyrose, her voice louder in the dark.

“No, he wasn’t.” Margaret’s obvious amusement sounded in her sing-song words.

“Alice,” they sang together and giggled.

“I cannot imagine my brother being interested in women. He only ever seems to talk of horses and soldiering.”

“If he hadn’t noticed Alice this evening, I’d have thought him blind.” The sound of rustling bedclothes punctuated Lilyrose’s words as she made herself comfortable.

“She looked especially beautiful. Oh, Lilyrose, do you think she and Henry might… they could–”

“Fall in love?”

“Get married,” said Margaret with a sigh. “I love Alice like a sister already. It would be like a dream to have her be my sister through marriage.”

“Well. We could help them–”

Margaret’s squeal interrupted her.

“Shh.” Lilyrose had to smother her laugh.

“Oh. I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep. This is too exciting. There’s so much to plan–”

“Margaret. You’ll have them wed by morning.”

Laughing softly, they gradually fell silent.

Lying on her back in the dark, listening to Margaret’s steady breathing, Lilyrose waited. She knew they would come, despite the happy thought of Henry and Alice, they would still come, the maddening thoughts she could silence more easily during the day, but which refused to go unnoticed in the dark. Slowly, they dragged themselves out of the shadowy confines of her mind and started whispering around her bed. Why bother seeking happiness? Why learn to fight? Why find delight in the company of others? She no longer fought the thoughts like she used to. Now she simply resigned herself to listening, knowing sleep would eventually claim her.