Chapter 555: Princess
I sit in the open window of my room, looking out over the garden, smiling at the happy trill of the birds. I sigh and lean out to look down over the treetops to the valley.
My heart is happy, and full. But there are moments I cannot bring myself to understand the unrest tickling my senses. My attempts to find Gwynn have left me confused and with an uncharacteristic anger rising in my soul. No one will tell me where he has gone.
Pensive, irritable even, I pluck at the front of my silken gown and wonder where my love has gone. Why has he forsaken me? It's only when my door swings open and sweet Thalion enters, I find myself smiling again.
"Come, my very dear," he says, hands clasping mine, drawing me out of my chambers and into the arching hallway on the other side, "the day is far too beautiful to waste."
Every day is beautiful here. But he is right. No more moping. It's just not like me.
I toss my hair over my shoulder as we run past the wall of mirrors, laughing at how delightful we look together. Thalion's happiness reaches me through our touch, his love a deep and thrumming pulse I sense easily and embrace.
Not fully. Not yet. I still pine for Gwynn. But there will come a time, I'm sure of it, Thalion will take his place. And I am happy for the distraction now.
He leads me down the spiral stairs, across the narrow thread bridge and to the ground, my feet light on the welcoming grass as we run toward the stable and our waiting horses. Thalion pulls me up before him instead, galloping off while I clasp my arms around his neck, breathing his scent of spring and morning glories. His pale cheek feels soft against mine and my heart swells open.
Perhaps he is the one for me after all. Mother will be so pleased to hear it.
His stallion, Dubhlainn spins to a halt, soft mane brushing my arm. Near the point of the river, a blanket has been spread. Small Fey flitter about, their pristine white clothing sparkling as they deposit a delightful array of foods about, scattering as Thalion leaps from the horse and hands me down into his arms.
I sit beside him, tucked against his side as my prince-yes, he is my prince and always will be, I've decided-hand-feeds me morsels while I sigh and listen to the soft sound of his singing.
How could my life be more wonderful?
Something twinges inside me, a feeling of discomfort. I push it down, absorbed in the beauty of Thalion's eyes. When his lips descend to mine, I meet them with my own, breathing his breath as his kiss devours me.
I am so happy.
Aren't I? Shouldn't I be? I pull away from Thalion, sitting up, the stirring in my chest refusing to leave me be. Where once this lovely picnic made me smile, I now see only a mess. The day, bright and cheerful, feels dull to me, the air cold. Even the grass beneath me has a sharp edge to it I abhor suddenly.
"My love." Thalion reaches for me. "What ails?"
I cannot allow him to touch me, cannot abide his gaze either. I spring to my feet, turning and taking Dubhlainn's stirrup, swinging onto the stallion. Thalion calls my name as I push the horse to turn, run away, despite his desire to return to his master.
My magic is stronger than his will. I release him at the base of the bridge and flee for the stairs. My chest feels heavy, as though someone pushes against me, forcing my breaths in panting sobs. I stagger as I trip over the top step, almost falling.
Except she is there to catch me.
"My daughter," Mother's green eyes are calm. Her stillness helps me focus as her power guides and steadies me. "Are you well? I had thought you out with Thalion."
"I was." I weave on my feet, one hand against my forehead, feeling light-headed and fragile. "Mother, I fear there is something not right with me."
She stroked my cheek, her fingers sparking with Sidhe magic, the pressure retreating. "Not at all, my darling," she said with a brief kiss to my cheek. "You need rest, perhaps."
Yes, rest. I follow her as she leads me into my chambers, out onto the low balcony, lying down on a divan, pulling me next to her. With my head cradled on her shoulder, her magic holding me gently, I feel myself finally recovering from the odd malaise.
I wake alone, still on the divan, Mother gone. Feeling much better, I retreat inside to change for supper. But nothing in my selection is suitable. I endure a rush of disgust for everything offered to me by my servants, send them scurrying with angry words and snaps of magic.
Each and every gown I shred with power and send fluttering to the floor. Ugly. All of it, ugly. And a lie.
What lie? I draw a breath against the tightness holding me captive, heart pounding as my gaze rises and I meet a pair of blue eyes in my mirror.
I leap with terror at the sight of the furious young woman reflected over my shoulder. A human! Here? I spin, fear pounding away at my soul. No human can be here.
But no. The room is empty. I am alone, after all.
Why did she seem so familiar?
Mother is unhappy with me at dinner, Thalion sullen, but I do not care. Refuse to talk. Who was that girl? And from where do I know her? I pick at my food before rising to retreat.
"You haven't finished." Mother reaches for my hand, but I snatch mine away before she can touch me.
"Just leave me alone, won't you?" I run from her, from Thalion as he calls my name, fleeing yet again to my quarters, sending my weeping servants away. I collapse on my bed and sob.
A soft step, a warm hand on my back and Bronagh settles next to me. Her clear green eyes are full of warmth, her touch the same I remember from my childhood. My mother's oldest adviser and my dear friend rubs soft circles between my shoulder blades to soothe me.
"I'm ill," I whisper.
"You're not," she answers. "Sleep. And remember there is more to you than she lets you feel."
Bronagh leaves me alone to ponder her words, to think on the life of illusions Mother has spun for us here.
This is wrong. My home, my life. Everything is the way it should be and yet, I can't help but know, in my deepest soul, it is all a terrible lie.
Still weeping, I fall into a troubled slumber.
Darkness engulfs me. Glowing amber eyes emerge from the black, curving horns shining in demon fire as the red-skinned creature lunges forward, snarling my name. I flee from her, further into the shadows, only to feel the chill of the grave slide over my skin. I huddle, weeping, as a shining white vampire, her eyes flaring with spirit magic, thunders her fury.
I barely escape her, following the thread of rainbow magic, riding it like a river, desperate to escape. But there is no escape. I see her then, the young woman, the human, her face a mask of rage. Multi-hued magic flashes around her as she rises above me, a giant. The vampire and demon join her, becoming her while the river of power pins me to the ground.
I try to fight back, but she is so strong. And so familiar. Part of me wants to welcome her, but I am afraid.
Until she touches me. And my heart opens again.
"Syd," I whisper.
No longer afraid.
Furious.
***
