The palace was like a different world when everyone went to sleep. Scattered candles lit in the main hallways, but past midnight the only light came from the moon. I looked out the wide window, seeing parts of constellations hidden by trees, thinking they were all just too far away.
I crept down to the hall at the farthest end of the palace, to the space where my father had moved one of the grandest portraits I’d ever seen.
I looked both ways to check that the space was truly empty, and settled on the floor in front of the larger-than-life painting of my mother. Her face was so beautiful, so peaceful. Even in stillness, she embodied kindness. The tilt of her head said you were pardoned for any offenses. Her quiet smile invited you to be near her.
People said I was like her. I wanted to be. I wanted to be serene and happy and good. Such simple words, maybe, but they could embody so much.
“I’m sorry I’ve been away,” I whispered. “I’d tell you why, but I think it’d break your heart.”
I swallowed, knowing that was true. If she had been present for the last month of our lives, she’d have been crushed. I kept thinking my tears were dry, but as I spoke, new pains found me, and I felt the tears come.
She was out there, right? Somewhere, she was alive. Maybe she was being held captive . . . or it was possible she had amnesia. That happened in the books. So it wasn’t unimaginable that even after three years, she could walk back into the palace one day and hug me as she did when I was small. I had to believe that.
But sometimes believing hurt.
“I’m engaged. To Nickolas.” I held up the ring, looking at her peaceful eyes and wishing that there would be some sort of reaction, something to gauge if I was crazy for refusing in the first place or if I should have held out. “Escalus keeps telling me I’m so noble. And if there is one gift I could give him, it would be an easy reign. But the way Nickolas speaks to me . . . I don’t know. It feels like there’s something mean just lurking under his surface.” I shook my head.
“But I should tell you . . . I have a way out.” I looked up at her, wishing for a reaction. “Rhett loves me,” I confessed. “He wants me to run away with him. I think if you were here, you would approve. You gave him his position, so you must have seen something in him. And if anyone could provide for me, it’s him. He’d sell the clothes off his back for me. I don’t doubt it.
“The only problem is . . . I don’t love him. Not like he loves me. And I’ve told him so, but he says he’d be happy so long as I was around. And that means something to me, too. But . . . I don’t think that’s enough to run away for. If it was magical? I’d go. Because isn’t it all supposed to be magical?” I asked.
“All the books say so. Even when things start out bad, you can feel it, Mother. You can tell that the prince sees the best in her, and she has hope for him, and once they get past the worst of it, they’re making something so beautiful that someone has to write it down. I don’t have that. Not with anyone. And maybe I never will,” I said with a shrug. “I suppose there are worse things.”
I wiped at my face. “I wish you were here. I wish I still had someone who loved me the way you did.”
And there was the heart of all my pain. I was loved in some way or another by everyone around me. But no one loved me like her.
“I’ve decided something. Since it seems I must marry Nickolas, on the day of our wedding, I’m going to finally mark it in the books that you’re dead.” I stared into her eyes. “Because I know that this is the first royal wedding here in ages, and I know that the word will spread. And I know, without a doubt, if you were out there and you knew I was getting married, you’d come back. So, if you don’t, I’ll write it down, and that will be the end of it. I’ll stop believing.”
I sniffled, hating that I needed to make it so final. But for my sanity, I had to. The wondering was worse than knowing.
“I won’t stop coming to visit, though,” I promised. “I’ll talk to you like you’re here, no matter what. And I’ll tell you everything, even the bad things . . . just not all today.
“I love you,” I whispered. “I wish you would come back.” I drew in a deep breath, rubbing my temples. “I should go to sleep. We’re riding out tomorrow. Father wants Nickolas and me to be seen by those in the country. Seeing as I rarely get to leave the grounds anymore, I’m taking the opportunity.” I sighed. “Help me figure this out. You could smooth over an argument with a smile. . . . How did you do that? Teach me how. There has to be more of you in me than just my hair and eyes. I want your graciousness, and I want your strength. I hope it’s all in there somewhere.”
I stood and blew her a kiss. “I love you. I won’t forget you.”
I was standing on the bank of a beach with black sand. I looked down at it, curious, thinking there was no such thing as black sand. But still, here it was, caught between the toes of my bare feet. There was wind, so much wind, and it tugged at my gown, pulling it up and back, threatening to lift the hem above my head. I didn’t know this place. And I was so alone.
But I wasn’t frightened.
I reached up and my hair was down, floating out behind me, free.
Free.
I stood there for a long time, watching the waves, focusing on the place where the sky meets sea. After a while, on the edge of the horizon, the stars started to move. They were converging with planets, coming together in one bright point, growing so bright, it was more blinding than the sun.
I covered my eyes, looking to the side. And when I turned my head, a shadow was standing there.
He—for I was certain it was a he—stayed beside me. I waited for the brightness of all the stars to wash him from the beach. He was a shadow, for goodness’ sake. The light should wipe him away. But he stayed, like even the thing that ought to make him run had no power, like even the thing that could destroy him wouldn’t force him from me.
I studied this shape. He was a shadow, but a shadow of what? I took careful steps around him, looking for a break in the dark, for a source. There was nothing, only him. And he was still as I took him in.
“Who are you?”
There was no voice; I sensed he had no identity at all. And I sensed equally that he was curious about me, wanting to know my name, where I came from, and how I found the beach.
I looked back at him, staring into the place where his eyes should be.
“I am nobody, too,” I said.
I could feel his sorrow for me.
He reached up and touched his shadowy fingers to my cheek. It was then that I felt how icelike he was, how cold he was at his core. I stared at him, looking for a smile, for kind eyes, for anything that said he was a friend, not an enemy.
There was nothing but ice.
And I sat bolt upright in bed, gasping for air.
“My lady?” Noemi asked, running from the fire she was setting.
“I’m fine, I’m fine,” I insisted. “Nightmare. At least, I think it was a nightmare.”
“Shall I fetch you anything? Some water?”
I shook my head. “No, sweet Noemi. Truly, it was just a dream.”
I turned my gaze to the window. The night was fading fast, daylight breaking through the trees.
I lay back down, wiping the sweat from my forehead. I could still see the shadow. The memory sent a chill through me, which was unfortunate. There was no way I could get any more sleep now. A day alone with Nickolas approached—it seemed far less appealing in the daylight.
