These Wicked Revels Page 7

  I glanced down at myself. Yes, I was no faery gentleman anymore. The green velvet had been replaced by a plain wool vest and trousers, a working man’s Sunday best.

  “You’re the latest one to try, aren’t you?” she hissed. “How did you get down there?”

  “That’s for me to know, isn’t it?” I retorted.

  She looked even more pale than before. “Get out,” she said, pointing to the door. “Get out of my room.”

  “Is that any way to treat the man you’re going to marry?” God above, I don’t know what prompted me to open my mouth like that, but I didn’t like being ordered around.

  “Get out!”

  The door flung open immediately, and two guards dashed in and grabbed me, twisting my arms behind my back. “How did you get into the princess’s room?” one of them shouted in my ear.

  “I found her secret realm,” I said. “Just as I said I would.”

  “No,” she said. “No, no…” It was strange to see her now, so different in this world. Her hair was pulled back severely, so she looked like hardly more than a girl, swallowed by an oversized nightgown with dowdy ruffles at the neck and wrists. “It isn’t true,” she said. “I’ve never seen him before. He was snooping around my room while I slept.”

  Well, this probably isn’t good, I thought, before the guards shoved me out her door.

  Chapter Eleven

  Will

  The guards dragged me before the king with my hands tied behind my back. And they did drag me. They had no patience for my stiff leg.

  Is this any way to treat a man who fought for this country? I kept my mouth shut, remembering my own advice about the hangman’s noose. But I was scowling as they finally released their hold on me, the king glaring down from his throne. The queen sat beside him, which was unusual. I’d heard that she didn’t usually hold court with him. She was exactly as I imagined from accounts, small and anxious, wearing a plain black dress, offering no opinions, not even a change of expression.

  “Your majesties, we caught him in Princess Evaline’s room,” one of the guards said.

  “Yes,” I said, “because I know where she’s been going at night.”

  “Tell me,” the king said, looking patient. I had a feeling that other men had concocted a number of explanations in the past.

  I twisted my hands to the side, nearly yanking my shoulders out of joint, and managed to fish out the leaves from my pocket. “I have these as evidence.”

  One of the guards took them from me and presented them to the king.

  “At midnight,” I said, “A passage opens beneath the princess’s bed. It leads to a faery realm. She passes through three groves. One with leaves of silver, one with leaves of gold, and one with leaves of diamonds. Then she rides a boat across the river to meet the King of the Revels and dances the night away.”

  The queen reached for the small holy writ she kept in her pocket, and clutched it to her breast.

  The king glanced at her with faint disapproval. “My dear, don’t fear for her soul yet. We have no proof,” he said sternly to her. And then to me, “How do these leaves prove anything? You could have had them made.”

  “Tell me who makes something like that,” I asked. “And how a man like me could have afforded such fine things?”

  “You might have made a bargain. You might have concocted an illusion that will fade by tomorrow. And you haven’t explained to me how I will stop her from disappearing again.” He placed the leaves on a decorative table beside the throne. “Surely you don’t expect me to believe that a cobbler deserves to marry my daughter?”

  I was so furious, I must have been very red. “What sort of evidence do you want, your majesty? I brought you a leaf formed from diamond! You gave your word that you would give your daughter to anyone who solved the mystery.”

  “You have my word, but surely you understand that I can’t ‘give’ my daughter to you unless the proof is absolutely indisputable.”

  “What if she were to confess?” I asked.

  The king and queen looked at each other. I wasn’t sure what their eyes were saying to each other. Probably, We can’t let her marry him. Not if he brought back the faery king himself!

  But then queen said, with a sigh, “More than anything, I want to know that my daughter is telling the truth, and that her soul has not been tempted into darkness.”

  “Every one of my daughters has fallen under this enchantment,” the king said. “And not a one would confess. She won’t confess either. Bring him to the post.”

  “Wait—please.” I gritted my teeth as the guards tried to pull me back toward the door. “I know I can make her confess if you give me one more night.”

  “You want one more night? Well, that will just mean two days of whipping. It is of no concern to me if you insist on wounding yourself.” He waved his hand.

  I imagined Evaline, shyly beginning to embrace her pleasure, her small cries as she writhed with joy last night. And then I was annoyed at myself for thinking of that. For caring about her. Only fools enter the games of kings. I should know that.

  I forced myself to think of Jeannie instead. My sister was just trying to help. She would blame herself if I came back with nothing but lashings, after she’d taken such good care of me. I had to persist for her sake. She deserved something better. And I had to keep my mouth shut, as much as I wanted to curse the king’s name.

  The bright sunlight in the courtyard made me squint as the guards led me to one end of the long space. A wide pillar stood out in the glaring sun, with handcuffs built into it, dangling ominously, while several chairs were under a shaded walkway within view. Moving with brisk efficiency, the guards cut the bonds at my hands so they could wrestle my shirt off. Then they pushed my chest against the pillar, fitted my hands into the cuffs, and locked them tight.

  I was forced to stand shirtless, sweating under the sun, with my forehead resting against the pillar and my hands yanked up in front of me, for many long moments. My arms ached. My bad leg ached. The guards said nothing, but simply waited. Some finely clad members of the court started gathering around the shaded areas. It was a particular cruelty, to be rendered helpless and stared at by people with far more wealth than I would ever know.

  Finally, the king, the queen, and the little princess came out to sit in the chairs.

  I met the eyes of Princess Eva dead-on. She immediately looked down. Her cheeks were pink, her expression miserable. She looked even more wretched now than she had this morning. Her hair was not just yanked back off her face, but covered by fine black lace that cast a shadow on her eyes. Although the day was hot, stiff brocade clothing covered every inch of her from neck to wrists to feet. The edges of her white linen undergarment poked out slightly. The ridges of her corset were clearly visible under her clothes. She moved stiffly as she took her seat. I think she was overheated. Her face was shining with sweat.

  How could this be my dancing girl?

  If I could, I would have torn my arms from my bindings and grabbed her in my arms, sweeping her away from this oppressive place forever.

  “Well, Evaline, this is your chance to confess,” the king said. “This man claims to have followed you last night through forests made of silver, gold, and diamonds. If it is true, you must say so.”

  She looked even sicklier than before. “I—I don’t know.”

  All the lies must be weighing on her.

  But she knew the situation. If she said it was true, then she would have to marry me. And she didn’t look all that impressed by the sight of me.

  What princess dreamed of marrying one of the town laborers?

  This was it. I had to be honest with her. She was going to break my heart, but maybe she would take pity on me and stop the whipping.

  “Princess,” I called. “It’s me. I danced with you last night.”

  Her head shot up. “What? No—that’s preposterous.”

  “It’s true. I had an enchantment placed upon me so I would look like
a faery. I’m sorry for deceiving you. I know that my human form isn’t what you dreamed of, but…every word I spoke to you was true. If you would allow me to be the king to your queen someday, I would give you a very happy life.”

  The way her eyes looked when I said that gave me a glimmer of hope. They reminded me of last night. Shy—but eager. Afraid of what she might feel, but feeling it all the same.

  “If that’s true,” she said. “Then sing for me. Sing the beautiful song you sang for me last night!”

  Her parents both shot her looks of horror.

  But she hadn’t noticed that yet. She was looking only at me.

  Normally, I would have not have liked performing while chained shirtless to a post, but in that moment it was only the princess and me. I was starting to feel hope of my own. Maybe she would love Will the cobbler as much as she loved the faery gentleman, after all.

  But what came out of my mouth?

  Not my own voice. A horrid croak.

  All the surrounding members of the court burst into laughter almost immediately, drowning out the sound of my song after the first few desperate words. I was trying to clear my throat, and nothing worked. My ability to sing had vanished.

  “Whip him!” the king shouted. “Lash him double for toying with me!”

  The princess’s face crumpled, and that was the last I saw of her before the lash bit my back like a dragon’s tongue, burning with pain. I clawed at the post, determined not to scream, after I had already endured such humiliation, as the whip came down, again and again. The muscles in my arms strained. Sweat poured off me, mingling with tears that leaked from my eyes. I didn’t count the strikes. Time lost all meaning.

  “Curse you!” I finally screamed, when I couldn’t bear anymore. And still the whip bit my raw skin, as all the demure ladies of the court watched me, their faces somber under their lace shawls, and the men gawked, hands on hips and sober expressions like they had just heard that the price of grain had gone down. This was not a court to openly relish watching a punishment, not under the eyes of their queen. But I knew human nature. Human eyes cannot help but drink in darkness when it is put before them.

  And then, the crack of the whip stopped.

  Had it really stopped?

  Guards moved to unlock the cuffs that held my hands. The pain almost seemed worse now that it was over. My arms dropped shakily to my sides. They supported me as I stumbled down from the whipping post.

  I glared at the princess one last time. She had an expression of horror, but that meant nothing, really.

  In the blur of pain, the shock of the lash, I had not been able to think it all through, but now I realized what the kiss of the King of the Revels had meant.

  He had stolen my voice.

  Chapter Twelve

  Evaline

  I had been shocked to find a man in my room that morning. Under my bed. Emerging from the passage to the faery realms. All I could think was that I had been caught. It would all be over, and I would never sing and dance again, not unless my new husband was willing to stand up to court rules, and I wasn’t sure any single man was capable of that.

  And this man was just some ordinary fellow from town, I thought, before he was dragged away.

  It was a hot day. The maid helped me into my clothing and I felt like I was trapped in an oven. It was too much to bear. If I get out of this today, I will give up my mask tonight. I swear it. Anything is better than this.

  I received a summons to view the man’s punishment as the maid was pinning my lace shawl to my hair.

  So, this man had not been able to prove anything either. Of course, Father would never let this go through. I shouldn’t have worried.

  I trembled with apprehension. At least he would be the last man to suffer.

  I proceeded to the courtyard, and Father opened his hand, revealing gleaming leaves that were all too familiar.

  I looked at the man who was now tied to the post. He wasn’t lying. He really did follow me.

  This was my first truly good look at him. The way he was looking at me reminded me so much of the faery gentleman that I thought I might faint at the idea of that man. The man who spoke to me so candidly and touched me in such delicious ways, surely could not emerge in the real world. If he could…

  That man, I would accept as my husband. That man, I thought, was bold enough that we could work together to shape the kingdom, King and Queen together someday.

  I had never realized how much I wanted it all, until that moment. I wanted music and dancing and lovemaking that left me whimpering. I wanted to bring the joys of the revels to my own court someday, or I did not want to belong to this world at all.

  But my mind quickly brought itself back to the present moment. This man had familiar eyes, yes. But he was not my faery fellow. He was a human, and he looked quite different. He was about the same height, a little more tanned and muscular, because of course he would be working by day rather than dancing about by night. His hair was medium brown, cut short enough to stay out of his eyes, slight stubble traced along his jaw. His features were handsome, but not in the faery way—more coarse, more ordinary, rather than the stuff of a moonlit dream.

  Still, I kept staring at him.

  Those eyes.

  “Princess,” he said. “It’s me. I danced with you last night.”

  Oh, heavens.

  What if…what if he was my faery? What if it really was a disguise? How many times had I noted that my unnamed lover sounded more like a working man than a faery nobleman?

  And then, there was his talk of war. I knew little of faery wars, so there was no way of knowing if it rang true that a faery would have recently been fighting. But my kingdom had just sent men away to a bloody conflict a couple years back.

  It would explain the slow burning anger in his eyes. Why he would fight to claim this kingdom and me for his own. He would have already given up something precious for this land, without much compensation. He would have lost friends, maybe even family.

  I knew immediately how he could prove himself. And I wanted to hear him sing again, if he was the man who was beginning to capture my heart.

  When he opened his mouth…

  I cringed back, and shut my eyes. He couldn’t sing. His voice was like a croaking frog. He was a clever man, to have followed me and gotten this far, and he was trying for all he was worth, but he could not be the man I loved. I heard the court laughing, and I felt as miserable as I had ever felt, because either way, the leaves proved the truth. He had fulfilled my father’s request. If I was a creature of honor, I would confess, and marry this stranger.

  But if anything else, this only deepened my resolve. I knew what I wanted. Tonight, I would have him forever.

  I heard the first crack of the whip, and shut my eyes.

  I am so sorry, I thought, to the poor brave man. He never cried out. I should have never have come home at all. I should have given up my mask last night. Then you wouldn’t have to suffer like this.

  Tonight, I vowed.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Will

  One of the guards handed me my shirt and cloak. I could feel blood dripping down my back.

  “Do you still want to stay for another night of this?” the king asked, clearly expecting that he had broken me.

  “Yes,” I said, although even speaking seemed to hurt, as if the mere vibration of a word in my chest inflamed my wounds. Trickling blood slid toward the waist of my trousers.

  “My god, he’s a stubborn one,” the king said. “Well…show him to the infirmary.”

  Guards escorted me to a room down in the basement of the castle, lined with beds. To my utter shock—and something between humiliation and relief—Jeannie was down there waiting for me.

  “Will!” she cried. Her hair was in disarray. She threw down a pair of scissors—it looked like she had been helping to cut wound dressings, although there was no one in the infirmary. Jeannie was always one to offer to help.

  “I set ou
t early this morning when you didn’t come back last night,” she said. “I started rethinking all this. I should never have gotten you involved in some crazy plan like this. And then when I got here they told me you were taking the lash!” She glanced at my back and then shut her eyes. “Shit.”

  The little elderly nurse widened her eyes. My sister had a blunt tongue when she was upset; we were alike in that way.

  “I’ll be all right, Jeannie. I’ve—“

  “Like hell! Look at you! This is all my fault. I thought it would—well—I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  “I do,” I said. “You were dreaming of a better life. You always do, and maybe it’s crazy, but it’s one of your endearing qualities. And you were thinking I need to get out and take on some ambitions. You were right. Sit down. I’ll tell you the whole story.” I winced as I made my way to one of the beds. I forced myself to stay quiet for a time while the nurse came over with bandages and salve. She brushed off Jeannie’s attempt to help.

  “Oh, Will, you’re really going to go back?” Jeannie whispered, once I’d told her the tale. “In this condition?”

  “Now I’ve got to do it,” I said. “The king stole my voice. And she was close to giving me her mask last night. Now, by the light of day, she knows damn well that I followed her to the revels, but she would rather see me be whipped than confess. If I see her tonight, one way or another, I’ll win her. I think she’s planning to leave this place forever. I’m this close to having it all. So, maybe it wasn’t a crazy plan at all.”

  “I think it sounds even crazier than it did to begin with!” She clutched her hands together. “It seems like the king is going to give you trouble. You’d better bring a weapon.”

  “Sure, go and grab one from my armory,” I said sarcastically. My sword was provided to me by the military and taken away when I was discharged. “I don’t think the king will give me a weapon, that’s certain.”