A few points of interest: 1) I don't usually spend a paragraph describing clothing—it can get very monotonous for readers—but this new way of dress is such a big deal to Linnea that I felt she deserved that much from me. 2) This is a really long one, but hopefully it makes up for the huge wait! 3) This chapter has graphic mature content, so beware! I chose to go in this direction because it's what was natural. I want to be honest above all things as I write this, and to tone it down or bypass it would have done it a disservice. Still, I hope very much that it's not too much.
It's wonderful to be back, and to be writing this story once again. Thank you all for your support and feedback. Please enjoy the latest installment of Linnea's journey toward Heroism. I'm so grateful to all of you, especially those who have left such caring reviews. This pairing is very rare in the Fable fanfiction circle, so it's always wonderful to hear your thoughts about it. You continue to give me courage. Thank you so much.
Linnea: "…lowly, insignificant, disregarded, flowering but for a brief space..."
- Carl Linneaus
Chapter Four
Innocence Lost
I had been reborn. My life was a new and glorious thing. For two years, Elise and I found a way to see each other secretly nearly every night. We read to each other until the candles burned low, and when they went out, we exchanged a chaste sort of love. I flourished under the warmth of her kisses and the soft flutter of her eyelashes against my cheek. It never even occurred to me that there might be more for two people in love to do. If it occurred to Elise, she held herself back—something she was not in the habit of doing in other areas of her life. For a long time, we treated each other as though we might shatter into a thousand pieces if we weren't careful. Now her hair was growing a little darker, and I was growing a lot taller. The gulf between fourteen and sixteen felt miles wide, and we had crossed it together on a tightrope without a net, but we had crossed it, and we were still cautious enough to know that it did not mean we had reached a place of safety. My mother was becoming more unstable all the time, slowly unraveling like a ball of tangled string as we all aged.
"Well, madam, it certainly appears I have my work cut out for me, doesn't it? You're growing faster than ever."
Particularly in the bust, I thought nervously as Jasper, the man my mother had appointed to replace his sister Matilda so long ago, rolled up his measuring tape and put it in his pocket. He was as kind as Mattie had been, and he never allowed me to apologize for her dismissal. In fact, he never allowed me to apologize for anything. He treated me with warmth, pride, and respect. He maintained a discreet professional distance when he was actively working—especially if my mother was near—but when he was finished with his tasks, as he was, now, he let the distance close until we were simply Jasper and Linnea, two dear friends sitting quietly together in my room. I thanked him every day for his many kindnesses, and knew that I would never be able to express the true and desperate depth of my gratitude if it took me the rest of my life to try.
I dressed and came out from behind the standing screen wearing the outfit Jasper had placed at the foot of my bed that morning. He knew that my mother would never allow me to wear dresses, but his sensibilities railed against it. He met her demands at the halfway mark; he had fashioned a truly unique sort of skirt. It was pale gold silk, parted in the front and long in the back, with smooth ivory stockings reminiscent of men's dress hose. My blouse was elegantly cut, yet practical—the sleeves were very short, little more than rounded caps over the shoulders—and now that I was old enough to need more coverage, he had fashioned a number of bodices for me. The one I wore today was special: it was less a traditional bodice and more a sort of rust-colored sleeveless jacket that came together at the bust before sweeping away diagonally into long coat-tails in the back, leaving the abdomen uncovered. It had all been fashioned with such care and attention to detail that it nearly broke my heart to imagine the weeks Jasper had spent creating it in his workroom. A pair of soft, low-heeled boots that fastened at the ankles completed the ensemble. Not even my mother could have complained. I could easily have fought a war in these clothes.
I touched middle C on my piano—the note that marked the division on the bench between Elise and I when we sat and played together. She had taught me all that she knew, and we were both surprised to find out that I was good at it, just as my father had been so long ago. Today was our birthday, and I had written her a song. "Can I ask you something, Jasper?"
"May I ask you something," he corrected me patiently while writing down the figures he needed.
"May I?" Elise's bold manners had caused mine to suffer a bit over the years. My mouth twitched as I suppressed a laugh. Light above, I love her…
He smiled. "Of course you may."
"Have you ever been in love?"
Jasper pocketed the notebook and placed the quill fastidiously back on its stand. "Certainly I have, madam." He quirked an eyebrow at me and chuckled. "I don't know if you've noticed, but I am quite old, you know."
"What was it like?"
He surprised me by sitting down on the window seat and looking down into the gardens. "It was the most wonderful and terrible thing that has ever happened to me. I am sure I am not the first to say that, nor will I be the last."
I thought I understood. I had given Elise my heart, and her existence gave my life a brilliance I had never thought possible. But I lived in excruciating fear of the consequences that might follow if we were not very careful. We had kept our secret for so long that I worried one of us might grow too comfortable and let something slip. If that happened, I would have to send her far away, using what little authority I had to do it if necessary. Only that way would she be safe.
"Who was the person you loved?" I asked hesitantly.
"She was the daughter of the family my family served, long, long before you were born. It was forbidden, of course. My father warned me that while our livelihoods were at stake, her reputation was likewise in jeopardy if we continued our flirting. Of course, by that time it had long passed the stage of mere flirtation, and even infatuation. I loved her, and she loved me. We were just a bit younger than you are, now. Matilda did her best to shield us, but we were found out, in the end. I suppose everyone is. It is only a matter of time and chance."
I tried to keep my voice as even as it had been a moment ago, but it was difficult, because I believed him. "What happened when they found out about you?"
He turned and gave me a half-smile. "I don't think you want to know about that. It's a dreadfully depressing tale for a young lady."
I flushed horribly, certain I had overstepped my boundaries. "I'm sorry, Jasper, I didn't mean to pry—"
"I think you know how I feel about unnecessary apologies, madam," he interrupted, shaking his head and smiling more freely, now. "And of course you meant to pry—what young person would not want to know the ending of a story of true love? It's perfectly reasonable. And, if it eases your conscience, I promise not to tell you anything I do not want you to know."
I beamed and seated myself beside him at the window. "That seems more than fair."
He stared into the distance as though he were watching it all unfold before him, even now. "When we were caught, I was taken to the yard and beaten severely—first by her father, then again by my father. Her family married her away. I don't know where or to whom. I do not know if she is still alive, but I think of her every day, hoping that her life was rich and beautiful. Hoping that wherever she is, she is happy."
I had no words. I simply sat there, the enormity of his suffering settling over my shoulders like a heavy shawl, looking at him in pained amazement.
"You'll want to be careful, madam," he said softly. "Your face is like an open book again. If your mother sees this face, she will know what I now know: that you love someone and that you are afraid of what will happen when you are found out. I wish you were not right to be afraid. But you are, and you must remember that. Your mother has made it very clear that you are to have no male playmates, saving your brother. Whoever this young man is, you would do well to protect him…and yourself, madam. Please. No one should have to suffer such a thing, least of all you. I cannot condone it. Whatever it is, you must end it until the time comes when you both answer to a new Monarch. Your brother may have his own plans to sell you for an alliance, but I think that unlikely."
"Because Mother is dying, and Logan is not ready to rule," I said, nodding.
Jasper stood quickly. "You must never say that, madam. Ever. Your brother will need your allegiance even more than he will need the loyalty of the people. If you do not give him your full support, your house will fracture and the people will suffer. Worse, you might be branded a traitor."
"I understand. I'm sorry, Jasper."
"Gods, but she says that a lot, doesn't she, Jasper? I'm starting to think she can't be cured."
My heart leapt in my chest so hard that I stood just to catch up with it. Elise stood in the doorway, wearing blue velvet that matched her eyes and the ribbon in her long, long curls. When she brushed her fringe away from her eyes and smiled at me, the red-gold strands of her hair flashed in the sunlight like living fire. I felt my face heating with embarrassment and fear and worry and excitement simultaneously, and wondered if it was possible for a human being to burn a hole through a stone floor with blushing. I thought that in my case, it just might be.
"Good day and happy birthday, Lady Elise," Jasper said with a deep bow. "Sixteen already?" He sighed. "Time is a strange thing."
"To the young and old alike," Elise agreed with a wink, and he melted, just as we all did. Elise was a glorious creature. She liked to sleep late, eat often, and speak her mind whenever she felt the desire. Her gaze could stop a man dead in his tracks; her smile would haunt his dreams for weeks. Every man in Bowerstone seemed to be offering her marriage, now, but she was infamous for refusing them before they could finish speaking. No one could make her do something she did not want to do. Not even her parents, who by now were receiving dozens of proposals from the noble houses who lived in Millfields. I knew in my heart that she would leave Bowerstone far behind her before she would marry any of them.
"Happy birthday, Lady Elise," I murmured, inclining my head. I was afraid that Jasper would notice my flushed face, but if he did, he pretended not to.
"Thank you, Your Highness. Happy birthday to you, as well. Jasper, you're a genius. I've always said she looks unfairly gorgeous in russet and gold. You've really outdone yourself. It makes her eyes stand out like a pair of emeralds, don't you think?" Her voice was perfectly bright and composed. Even Jasper could not have seen her as anything more than a dear friend. He smiled with dignified humility and bowed.
"You are too kind, Lady Elise. But yes, I rather think it does. My compliments to your tailor, as well! If memory serves, this is imported velvet from the north—in true cerulean, I believe. It suits you well, indeed, my Lady. And so practical for the autumn weather. One look at you and one would believe you had brought summer back with you. That is true craftsmanship. As I always say—"
Jasper and Elise talked about clothes and the brilliance of her family's tailor long enough for me to pull myself together. I was allowed to see Elise only on our birthday, and not as a privilege or a gift, but as a royal obligation. My duty, my mother said, was to entertain her and make her feel welcome, because her father, who was easily the wealthiest man in Albion, had generously funded the Brightwall Academy. My mother's near-obsession with that place had always mystified me. She did not enjoy reading, herself. But it gave me an entire day with Elise once a year, and I was only too happy to fulfill my responsibilities.
"Well, I believe I've finished here," Jasper said kindly. "I shall have a few new outfits made for you, madam. I think you will like the designs I have in mind. I feel rather inspired just now."
"I always love your work, Jasper," I said, beaming.
He smiled back and bowed to each of us. "Your Highness. My Lady."
When he was gone, Elise closed the door behind him and walked swiftly across the room. Before I quite knew what she was about, she had lifted me into the air and twirled me around. The air swept my hair out in a bright fan of color behind me, and my stomach seemed to squirm inside me, as though it were filled with downy feathers. We stumbled awkwardly into my vanity table. I was taller than she was, and much stronger, but she managed to set me down on the table, knocking hairbrushes aside, as well as the small amount of makeup I was allowed to use for special occasions like this.
"You don't need all of that," she murmured, stepping between my knees and brushing my cheek with her knuckles. I felt my heart beat even faster, now, and wondered vaguely if I might be having a heart attack. The intoxicating scent of her was all around me. The sun in her hair made a faint halo around her head. "I've told you, Linnea. You're beautiful, just as you are."
Before I could speak, she leaned in and kissed me. Her lips were warm and soft, and they brushed mine with such gentleness that I closed my eyes and felt my heart swell. I whispered her name against her lips, placing one hand on the back of her neck and wrapping the other around her upper back. My fingers slid into her soft, luxuriously thick hair, and our kiss deepened. Elise's hands moved to my thighs, lifting them slightly as she pressed her body against mine. I felt the most peculiar urge to wrap my legs around her waist, but I resisted. It was too embarrassing. Too forward. I didn't know if she would like it.
My worries dissolved when she took the liberty of doing it for me. I felt myself scoot forward as she tugged at my calves, folding them over her hips. Her kisses were growing fiercer, now. Our breaths came in ragged shudders. Something inside me was tingling…it was at once fluttery and almost unbearably hot. A bolt of fear flashed through me, but it disappeared as quickly as it had come. There was only Elise, now. Elise, who had saved me in more ways than I would ever be able to tell her. Elise, whose body was soft and warm against mine. She tasted like strawberries—her favorite treat—and something else completely unique to her. She smelled of garden flowers and the open air. She was freedom…purity…salvation.
I had never told her I loved her, and she had never said the words to me, either. But we knew it, all the same. A single look into her bold, blue eyes was worth more than a thousand poems. A person could drown there and die happily. She was my joy, my love, the one truly unsullied thing in the hostile world in which I lived. I knew with the certainty of the devout and pious that she saw all of those things when she looked into my eyes, too.
"I love seeing you in the sunlight," she said breathlessly when we broke the kiss. "Your hair…" She caught a few strands of it and stroked them with her thumb. "It's like wine and autumn leaves and glowing coals. So many shades of red… It reminds me of our story. The one I told you the first time we kissed."
"Firedance," I murmured, remembering that blissful night and the horror that had preceded it. The lightning bolt my mother had put through my body had left me with a scar that had slowly faded away to a faint, white cluster of gently cresting lines just below my ribcage. Elise slid a hand over my hip and under my shirt, tracing those lines with her fingers and thumb. Goosebumps rose immediately wherever she touched my skin. The hot, tingling sensation was back in full force. It sat low in my belly, tickling me from the inside like a cloud of butterflies and electricity. My eyes closed again, and I let out a faint sound of pleasure.
"Firedance," she confirmed softly. Her hand slid slowly out from under my shirt and came to rest on my knee. "I've been thinking about that a lot, Princess."
"Oh?" It was all I could manage. I felt dizzy with something I could not quite identify. It was almost like being hungry, if a person could be hungry everywhere at once.
"Mmhmm. Your hair always reminds me every year, when I get to see you in the light. It reminds me of the coals the women would dance over, preparing to pass through the fire." She pulled me even closer, and I was forced to tighten my legs around her hips just to keep from falling off the table. She responded to the increased pressure with a lovely blush that blossomed from over chest. I lost myself in that sight for a long moment and felt my eyelids grow heavy with the strange hunger that had come over me.
"Elise…"
"I want to do more than walk on coals with you, Linnea." Her hands moved to my hips. "I want the fire."
I shivered involuntarily with pleasure and nervousness. I thought I had an idea of what she meant, but I had no idea how to go about any of it, especially in daylight. Before I knew it, I was more or less paralyzed.
"Shhhh…" Elise brushed my hair over one ear and stroked my face with her fingertips. "Don't be afraid. There's nothing to be scared of. Do you trust me?"
I closed my eyes as she kissed my neck. "Yes. I do. I always will."
"Then…" She swallowed. Her hands were trembling slightly, and I realized that she was just as anxious as I was. I opened my eyes again and took her hands in mine, squeezing them gently. She smiled gratefully and kissed the hollow beneath my ear. "Let me love you," she whispered against my skin.
A flash of heat burned through my entire body at these words. I couldn't let go of my fear entirely, but in that moment, most of it slipped through my fingers. I slid off the table and lifted her into my arms. She gasped in delighted surprise—even I had to pause a moment to consider how light she felt…or how strong I had become—and wrapped her arms around my neck as I carried her to the bed. The velvet gown was soft and warm against my hands, a feeling that made me shiver again. I set her down as gently as I could, but she grasped the lapels of my jacket-bodice and pulled me down with her. I lost my balance and we hit the mattress together with a little fit of laughter. Her curls tumbled over the pillows like a golden river of fire. I caught myself with my hands and knees before I could fall on her, but her grip was relentless. She tugged at my clothes until the full length of my body was pressed against hers. I cradled the back of her head in my hands and kissed her deeply. The sun coming in from the window warmed my back.
This is heaven, I thought.
Suddenly, one of Elise's hands closed over a section of my hair above the nape of my neck. She was gentle, but firm as she pulled downward, turning my face to the ceiling and exposing my throat and chest. I gasped a little. It felt incredible in a way I could not define. She sat up with me poised motionless on my knees over her lap, leaned forward, and kissed the center of my chest. I drew a sharp breath, stroking her hair without thinking about it. All I could focus on was the sensation of her lips and tongue and teeth as she nibbled first one collarbone, then the other. Very soon, I was actually panting, and she chuckled against my heart.
"This is fun," she said shakily. Her free hand tugged at the strings that held my bodice closed. She was breathing nearly as hard as I was, now. When the fabric sprung open, she let go of my hair and slid the bodice down my arms until I could pull my hands through the straps.
"Fun," I agreed between hitching breaths, letting the garment fall to the floor. I could hardly believe this was happening. It was at once terrifying and wonderful, something I both feared and desired with all of my heart.
Elise kissed my bared shoulders lightly, then looked up at me. Her eyes were half-lidded with what I realized was barely-bridled passion. She was still holding herself back! I marveled at her strength and her boldness, leaning down to kiss her mouth again. Her courage was all that was holding me together, now. I did not know how to do what I wanted to do. But she did. Her hands had worked themselves under my blouse again, and she broke our kiss to lift it over my head.
"Oh," she said in a small voice, her eyes wide.
Alarmed, I pulled away from her and looked over my shoulder, but there was no one there. We were still alone. I turned back to her. "Elise? What's wrong? Are you all right? Have I done something wr—?"
"No, no!" she interrupted, blushing to the roots of her hair. I had never seen her like this, before. "No, you haven't done a thing wrong. It's not that."
I bit my lip and waited for her to explain. She looked up at me and giggled at the expression on my face. The tension broke instantly, and I sighed with relief.
"Oh Linny…" she laughed, covering her mouth and shaking her head. Her face was still blazing with color. "I…I don't know how to say this."
I couldn't bring myself to laugh. I was growing worried again, and I covered myself as well as I could with my arms. "You can say anything to me. You know that." Nevertheless, I braced myself. I'm ugly, I thought miserably. That's what she doesn't know how to say. My scars. It had to be my scars. It wasn't just the big tangle left by the lightning bolt; my body was both leanly muscled and scarred in several places, all because of my mother's many lessons. It wasn't the body of a proper lady. I blushed and tried to reach for my shirt, but she stopped me.
"Don't," she said gently. "I know what you're thinking, and you're wrong." Another bubble of laughter escaped her lips. "It's…Linnea, it's your breasts. They're…they're intimidating."
My mouth fell open in surprise. "Intimidating?"
She nodded and bit her lower lip. I leaned forward a little, suddenly overcome with the desire to do that—to feel that full, reddish lip between my teeth. I didn't know why, but the thought sent a pleasurable ache careening through my body.
She must have noticed, because she blushed even more deeply. "Y-yes," she said faintly. "They're so…well, big. And they don't, you know…sag or anything."
I felt my eyes widen for a moment, and I couldn't help looking down to verify what she was saying. It was true. I couldn't see past the white swells of my own bosom. The only way I could see the rest of my body was to stand in front of a mirror. I felt my face flush. "I… Er…." What could I say? "Thank...you…?"
She laughed again, and this time I joined her. It felt good. There was so much tension in the air between us, and laughing made it dissipate more and more until it was gone. I pulled her gown down over her shoulders and upper arms, grinning. "Let's see yours, then."
Elise squealed and swatted playfully at my hands, but when I stopped, she shook her head and smiled. "You're never going to win that way," she said.
"Win? Win what?"
"Can't tell you. I want to win."
Her hands were at my waist, sliding my skirt and stockings down over my hips. I understood at last that she felt that the easiest way to bare ourselves to each other was to think of it as a game—a competition. She was right, and I found myself eagerly embracing the challenge. Emboldened by her words, I pulled her away from my remaining clothes by the wrists and held them over her head, pushing her down onto her back again.
"Well, you can't, because I'm going to win," I told her playfully, and after taking a moment to transfer both of her wrists to one of my hands, I nipped at her lower lip and began to suck it gently, running my tongue against it from corner to corner. Her eyes fluttered closed as she moaned low in her throat, a sound that drove me to what felt like temporary insanity. I plunged my tongue into her mouth and ground my body against hers at the same time, using my free hand to unlace her dress. Her eyes flew open and she rocked her hips beneath me in response. I let out a burst of breath at the sensations she was evoking within me, and she took the opportunity to lift her head and breathe "Yes…" into my ear.
My fears abruptly fell away—for good. I opened her gown to the waist and helped her to shrug out of it. Now she was wearing only her smallclothes and a thin, lace shift that left very little to the imagination. But I didn't want to imagine. I wanted to see her. I slid my hands over her legs, luxuriating in their smoothness as I hiked the shift up and over her hips, then her waist, chest, shoulders, and finally over her head. I placed it carefully on top of her gown at the foot of the bed, and then I finally let myself look at her. My breath caught in my chest, and I had to put a hand over my heart to keep it from jumping out of my chest. Elise, naked except for her knickers, was…perfection.
Her creamy skin was completely unmarked. She bore no scars. No one had ever harmed her. I already knew that, had known it for years, but the physical proof nearly brought me to tears. Elise sat up and cupped my face in her hands.
"What's wrong, love?"
I closed my eyes and felt a tear escape one of them. It fell onto one of her hands, and I nuzzled that hand, placing one of mine on the other and rubbing the back of it with my thumb. "Nothing at all," I said softly, gazing down into her eyes. "Nothing is wrong, and I'm so happy."
She smiled. "I'm happy, too."
"Elise, I love you." It tumbled out of my mouth before I could even think about it, but I didn't care. I wasn't afraid, anymore.
"I know, Linnea," she said. Her eyes were shining, now. She was radiance, itself. "I love you, too. I've always loved you."
I didn't think about Jasper's warning. I didn't think about the way Toby had struggled to wag his tail for me while poison ate at his insides. I didn't think about my mother's cold, pale eyes or the way my brother had looked at me when he lay bleeding on the floor. My mind was filled with memories of Elise. The way she had moved my fingers for me on the piano and marveled at my lack of complaint. The way she had looked when she first came through the secret passageway that tethered us to one another. The way she was looking at me now, as if her entire universe was contained inside this single room.
I wrapped my arms around her and let my head rest against her chest—which was small and soft, and in my opinion, perfect—whispering "I love you. I love you. I love you so much…."
Elise held me like that for a long time, kissing the top of my head and rocking us gently back and forth. I hesitated, then kissed her lightly on the space between her breasts. She leaned into me, and I looked up at her. There was a fire burning behind her eyes, now, and it provoked my passion again with such totality that I could scarcely understand what I was doing. Without the slightest sense of embarrassment or anxiety, I cupped one of her breasts in my hand and brushed my lips over her nipple. It stiffened, and I drew it into my mouth, fluttering the tip of my tongue over and around it. Her back arched and she cried out ecstatically, plunging her hands into my hair. My other hand moved to her backside as if it had a mind of its own and pulled her into my lap. My lips drifted to her other breast. I blew gently on it and watched in fascinated ardor as she whimpered with desire and arched even more, parting my lips with the tight mound of flesh I hadn't yet touched. I sucked and grazed it with the edge of my teeth, careful not to hurt her. Even in the heat of this moment, I tried desperately to avoid any clumsiness.
But then Elise's hand disappeared into my skirt and stockings, and pulverized all the control I had managed to muster into so much dust.
I threw my head back and gasped sharply when her fingers first touched me, probing and seeking until they slipped inside—inside!—me. I saw stars and realized that I was hyperventilating, dizzy with too much oxygen and too much pleasure.
"Oh my gods!" I cried. I had never felt anything like this in my life. I had never known such a feeling was even possible. Now I was drowning in it.
"Is this all right?" she asked huskily, searching my face.
I couldn't answer. Instead, I thrust my hand down the front of her knickers and felt for the crevice of her womanhood. It wasn't hard to find. Her inner thighs were damp with something, and I followed it upward mindlessly until I felt the tip of one finger slip into her opening. It was hot and slick, and I had no trouble entering her until she was groaning my name over and over and rocking her hips over my hand. I didn't know what to do from here, but it didn't seem to matter. We stayed that way, on our knees with our bodies pressed tightly together, panting and moaning with mounting pleasure. We didn't really know what we were doing, but it didn't matter. We were very young, and very much in love. It was enough.
She came first. I had curled my fingers without really knowing what I was doing, too utterly absorbed in what she was doing to me to even consider that there was such a thing as technique in these situations. Her moans had turned into breathy cries of ecstasy, and I suddenly felt her tighten, both inside and out. She arched into me and screamed my name in a way that made me scream with her. Something was happening to both of us, and neither of us understood until it was over. She bit into my shoulder and something hot and wet soaked my hand. I felt wave after wave of pure bliss roll over me as I climaxed with her. Her entire body—and mine—quivered violently as it went on and on, and when it was over, I realized that with my free hand I had raked her back with my nails. We fell onto our sides and withdrew from one another, panting hard. I looked at her hand; it was shining just as much as mine was. I felt momentarily embarrassed, but before the feeling could settle in, Elise wrapped her arms around me and pressed her sweat-dampened forehead against mine. Strands of her hair stuck to the edges of her face. I realized that she was more beautiful to me then than ever before…and that was saying quite a lot.
"I bit you too hard," she panted apologetically. "It left one hell of a mark."
"I scratched you," I said, trying hard to catch my breath. "Does it hurt?"
"No," she said, surprised. "I didn't even notice."
"Neither did I."
We dissolved into breathless laughter, hugging each other tightly. I planted light kisses on her cheeks, the tip of her nose, and her chin. She beamed and stroked my face. We lay there for most of the day, even after we had put our clothes back on and helped each other fix our hair, simply talking. Eventually, I remembered that I had written her a song. I sat up and swung my feet over the side of the bed—and that was when I heard the footsteps.
"Someone's coming," I whispered urgently, leaping to my feet and pulling Elise with me. "Go stand by the piano. I'll get the door."
She nodded and pulled a book from one of my shelves, opening it to the middle. Someone knocked on the door, and I counted three heartbeats before I opened it.
A servant stood with a silver tray. An envelope sat squarely in the center.
"Message from Her Majesty, Your Highness," the man said politely. "And may I wish you a very happy birthday, ma'am?"
"Thank you very much," I replied as graciously as I could. I took the envelope and he bowed, then went about his business.
I closed the door and leaned heavily against it, shaking all over. Elise was at my side in an instant.
"What is it?" she asked, her eyes wide with concern.
I couldn't speak. My mother never sent me written notes. I tore the envelope open and unfolded the paper within. It rattled noisily in my trembling hand as I read it:
I know what you've done. I came to your door and when I put my ear to it, I heard the two of you. I did not stop you because I need Lord Laurens' continued support, and embarrassing his daughter would have put an end to that. But that does not mean that I condone your repulsive actions today. You have disgraced yourself and the girl, too, with your foulness. You disgust me. I will deal with you tonight. You will send her home before then.
My fingers were numb and my stomach twisted with guilt and horror as I let the paper fall to the floor. A loud, rushing roar filled my ears, and I couldn't hear Elise's words as she bent to pick it up. My mother's note was brief and to the point, full of venom, but not overtly threatening on the surface. Nevertheless, I knew that violence was on its way. She wasn't just disgusted—she was filled with murderous fury. The words had been coolly written in calm, even strokes, but the big splatter of ink in the top right-hand corner told me that after she was finished, she had gripped the quill that had penned them so hard that it had snapped in two.
We were caught.
Thank you again for reading! I hope you will let me know how you feel about the latest event in Linnea's life, and the danger to come. Thank you for staying with this story. :) I will be updating regularly, now, and your feedback will help me to do it faster and better! Again, thank you so much for your continued support. We're pioneering this together!
