Regrets
By Laura Schiller
Based on: Fairest
Copyright: Gail Carson Levine
Prince Ijori threw himself down onto his royal fourposter bed, leaned against the headboard, grabbed a pillow and sighed. The sigh made the silk curtains shiver, and it was echoed by a canine whine at the opposite end of the bed.
"Get dow, Oochoo," he ordered halfheartedly. "You know you're not allowed up there."
Oochoo knew, but she also knew that once she did climb up, the prince wouldn't stop her. She blinked up at him with her enormous brown eyes, and he had to smile and shake his head.
"Oh, if you insist. I need advice anyway."
Oochoo's long plumy tail thumped on the silk comforter and her ears pricked up.
"Oochoo, have you ever made a terrible mistake? I don't suppose you have. Not the kind a bandage or a mug of hot ostumo can fix. The kind of mistake that … well … I'm not making sense, am I?"
He scratched Oochoo behind the ears as he spoke, the long silky black fur making him ever so slightly calmer.
"The fact is, Oochoo," he confessed, "I'm an ass. As thoughtless, insonsiderate and – cruel – as any of her former customers."
Oochoo whined; he could almost imagine a question. Why?
"Remember Lady Aza, girl? Of course you do. The … big girl who used to pet you, the one who smells like herbs. The one with that voice." He closed his eyes, trying and failing to find the words for that magical alto of hers. The way her round, pale, homely face became a thing of beauty when she smiled. Her brilliant musical composition, her infectious wit; the conversations they could hold as easily as tossing a ball back and forth. Before everything had gone wrong.
"I was going to ask her to marry me, but now … she's gone. And it's more than a little bit my fault."
He squeezed the pillow he was holding so tightly, it threatened to burst. Last night it had been accidentally revealed that Aza was illusing for Queen Ivi. The Queen claimed that Aza had approached her with the offer to illuse, on the condition of becoming the Queen's new lady-in-waiting. Aza had declared that the Queen had forced her to illuse by threatening to close down her parents' inn, the Featherbed. Sir Uellu, the choirmaster, had come up with a disturbingly logical solution. Aza was abnormal in her appearance. She had a remarkable voice even by Ayorthaian standards. She was persuasive. All traits she had in common with , hearing this, had snapped. And quite probably broken Aza's heart.
"It was the ogre comment that did it. I'm not a reasonable man where ogres are concerned. That's no excuse, of course, but still …"
Ogres had killed Ijori's father. Several years later, during a hunting trip, a she-ogre had called to him in an enchanting alto voice and nearly managed to persuade him that following her would lead him back to his father. Alive and strong, ready to hug his son and launch into a duet. He'd have done anything to sing with his father again.
His comrades' singing had drowned her out just in time. He had dispatched her with an arrow to her throat. But in some nights, he still heard her calling him. And he still believed her.
Ogres were the ultimate deceivers. And the very idea of loving a part-ogre girl, of kissing her, had drowned all of Ijori's common sense in one wave of horrified disgust.
Now he disgusted himself. He really was no better than the guests at the featherbed, or the palace tailors who had played that cruel prank on Aza and driven her to tears. His comforting her on that occasion had led to their first kiss.
"If I had stood up for her … argued for her … by the Three Tree, how could I have been so blind? I know Ivi. She's vain, selfish, vindictive … she arrested Frying Pan and Arona for a joke. Blackmailing Aza into singing for her is exactly what she would do. As for Aza herself, well, obviously I don't know her as well as I thought I did. You'd think with such a threat hanging over her, she'd at least confide in me as a friend … don't you agree, Oochoo?"
He ruffled the hound's fur. She sneezed at him companionably and snuggled down with her head between her paws.
"I shouldn't blame her … I only wish … anyway, she's gone. Aza is gone."
He caught the choke in his own voice and fell silent as he tried to get himself back under control.
"They put her in the dungeon … she transfomed, I don't even know what happened, she was beautiful. Not like my Aza at all. She looked like a black-haired Ivi, it was bizarre. I suppose the guards got an eyeful. Hmph. Pigs."
Oochoo's sniff sounded like agrement.
"But she escaped. And I don't know where she is. She could be in the woods, on the road, staying at an inn, attacked by ogres or bandits or Ayortha knows what … wait a moment … "
Suddenly he bounded off the bed again, startling a loud yelp out of Oochoo, who had to scrabble to get her balance on the bouncing mattress.
"Inns! The Featherbed! Now I know what to do! Oochoo, thank you. You don't talk much, but you're a lovely listener. You and I are going on a trip. Come!"
Oochoo barked and followed him out of the room, her tail wagging, her tongue hanging out. She had to tropt to keep up with Ijori's long, loping strides as he headed for the stables.