Chapter Thirty-Five: Prodigal
The marble cracked as a servant crashed against the floor, propelled by the barbaric force of the Ice Queen's hit. Bits of stone and dust fluttered around, resembling the storm outside. It was by sheer supernatural intervention that the man was still alive, let alone conscious.
The Ice Queen grit her teeth, feral growls emanating from her clenched mouth. Her nails dug into her flesh as her fists became tenser, but she was immune to the self-afflicted pain. The queen appeared on the verge of combustion, as if she would explode at any second and kill everyone within range. The surrounding soldiers and maids quivered in fear, as was a typical reaction whenever the Ice Queen was nearby.
"She what?" said the queen finally, gradually composing herself. The servant moved whatever limb was strong enough and wiped away the excess blood from his lips.
"Es—esc—," he coughed, trying to lift himself off the cold, jagged floor. "Escaped." He collapsed. The staff didn't know if he was still alive, and the Ice Queen didn't care.
"You," she pointed arbitrarily, her eyes fixed to the lifeless man before her. "Bring him here," she commanded, emphasizing the pronoun as if it hurt her to say it. One servant scurried off, knowing full well about whom the queen was speaking. The Ice Queen could hear the quick footsteps, and gestured for the rest of the lingering people to scatter, but not before saying another demand. "Someone clean this up. I will not have my home looking disheveled."
x
He saw her there, almost pacing. The Ice Queen was massaging her hands in an attempt to seem useful as she waited, abnormally nervous. Henry had never seen the impious woman express anything except anger and sadistic contentment. But she was worried, unconfident, vulnerable. She had called for him several minutes ago, but Henry took his time, already knowing the reason he was being summoned. Yet she appeared to have forgotten his expected company, her mind controlled by other thoughts. He was enjoying this too much. Serves her right, he thought. This moment almost makes it all worth it.
Henry inhaled deeply, mentally preparing himself for her lecture and punishment. He placed one foot in front of the other methodically, aware that these steps may be his last. If she nearly killed a man for simply relaying the message concerning Malinda's disappearance, he shuddered to think what she would do to the man who was actually responsible for it. I'm ready. My work here is done.
"You're late," was what she began with. The softer intonation in her voice conveyed her rush and stress, like time was of the utmost essence. "I am amusing you know why you are here," she said, her back still to Henry. But her sound was stronger now as she reverted to her former, merciless self.
"You assume correctly," he said slowly, walking closer. He stopped. She turned, her gown following her motion seconds later. Their locked eyes, dueling for dominance; the queen stared him down through her white mask. Despite the weaker condition he witnessed, the Ice Queen gave no indication of distress. Her jaw was tight, hands on her side. She was back, but Henry no longer feared her same. Malinda was gone, and safe, and on the road to defeating this revolting woman. The queen could do nothing.
"Well?" she spat, almost screaming. She began moving, circling him, the clicking of her hard shoes against the floor being the only sound, but his face stayed where it was. He could now see the spot where the servant had been injured, traces of blood still on the edges of the fractured marble. "What explanation will you give me this time?"
"None," he replied, now turning his face to where the Ice Queen has stopped, looking over his left shoulder. "No more games. You've already constructed a reason behind my actions. You wanting to speak to me is just for show; a habit. I'm not going to stop, and neither are you."
The Ice Queen was taken aback by Henry's bluntness, but it was expected. Ever defiant, ever foolish. Henry Rivers was searching for death, but he would not find it so soon. But he would find it, she thought. "Would you like me to kill you, Mr. Rivers?" she asked coldly, relaying her thoughts to him. "I've never met a man so eager to meet his end."
"If you want to kill me," he said, returning his face forward, "You should do so now, before I cause any more trouble." His heart was racing, his muscles tense. He was testing her, half-expecting her to let him go like she always did. But the fear of no longer living chilled him more than the ice on which this castle was built. He wanted to see a land free of the Ice Queen's tyranny; he wanted to live more so than ever. Still, his place was with his wife, his life here like that of a ghost with unfinished business. Henry wished the queen would just decide, instead of torturing him with the unknown.
"When I kill you," she said lowly, "it will not be like this. We will not be alone; you will not be expecting it, begging for it." She continued to circle him, like a vulture, until coming back to her original position. "And you forget, Mr. Rivers: Malinda in my daughter. She is drawn to me. You think you have bested me by enabling her escape?" she asked, almost laughing. "She will return. I will ask her to pledge her allegiance to me. If she does so, my plan is complete. If she does not, then I will kill her. For, as I have said, I cannot allow one as powerful as she to live."
"It isn't that simple—"
"You can leave now," the queen interrupted, flicking her wrist to illustrate her desire for him to be gone. Henry walked backwards, his eyes still on the Ice Queen, until enough distance was between them that he felt safe turning his back to her. "Oh, and Henry, tell me: did that man who cracked my floor survive?"
"No," he responded curtly, his hand on the archway leading to the hallway. "Why do you ask?"
"Curious."
"Well you needn't worry. He is dead, I can assure you," Henry said, bowing mockingly. "I wouldn't want you to start pacing again."
xxxxxxx
Malinda stood there, in front of the castle grounds, stoically. Even her muscles feared the prospect of being enclosed in that 8th Kingdom fortress. She yelled at herself, in her mind, shouting profanities that pleaded with her to reconsider her plan. Plan? Malinda scolded. You don't have a plan, you idiot.
All she had to do was take a few steps away from the piled rocks that lay beside one of many dead trees – more of a hiding place than a place of tactical value – in order to be discovered. Malinda was afraid, she could admit that. It was her fear – rather, her awareness of the danger she was in – that promised to aid her when dealing with the Ice Queen. There were guards roaming around, alert yet purposeless. Malinda thought the queen would have sent out at least a dozen men to search for her, but instead the courtyard seemed an eerie calm.
She inhaled sharply; quiet enough so as not to be noticed prematurely by the soldiers but loud enough to wake her from her flustered thoughts. Here goes nothing, she thought, hearing the crunching snow beneath her wary footsteps. And as predicted, one guard stopped in his tracks and alerted the others of a foreign presence.
"You there!" he bellowed, almost growling. "Don't move," said the soldier, pointing the old rifle at Malinda while his comrades joined him from all sides of the yard. She simply lifted her arms gradually in surrender, watching as they moved closer to her, rifles and swords still raised. What am I doing?
x
The castle was abuzz with news of the princess' return. The liveliness of the staff, and even the Ice Queen's own animation, appeared to bring some life to the frozen palace. The queen strolled to the main hall, concealing any anticipation she was feeling with shuddersome composure. The train of her textured white dress trailed behind her at a sluggish pace and was followed by three servant girls, their heads bowing down in reverence.
The queen parted the door steadily, revealing a sight she had expected to see, though not so soon. It was her daughter, surrounded by armored men and maids. Her posture was stern, but her face held a sadness that the Ice Queen had not seen before on Malinda. The queen came closer to her, glancing to her left to observe the look of anger and disbelief on Henry's face. It gave her pleasure to see him so aggravated.
"You have returned," she stated, virtually hovering over Malinda. The Ice Queen, in this light, looked younger than before. Malinda had only seen her face once, but her figure and countenance seemed like that of a more youthful person. The queen's hair was tied more loosely than usually, tendrils of hair falling in front on her pale mask. Malinda took this to mean that she was regaining her power; a fact that only made Malinda's goal even less feasible. "But you do not look happy about it."
The question, obscured in the form of a statement, caught her by surprise. She had expected to be punished for her escape and interrogated about the reasons for it, not as to why she appeared cheerless. But Malinda was prepared, regardless. She elevated her head dramatically, playing up the melancholy manner she was unaware she exuded. She itched her arm in pretend shame, and began to explain.
"They d-didn't want me," she stammered, making a mental note to tone down the melodrama.
"They?" she asked, a hint of concern in her pitch.
"I had left to find them – my family. In the forest, I met up with King Wendell and his men. They were coming to rescue me…" she trailed, quickly trying to change the mood of her speech. "I- I asked what would happen to me, and the king told me once I was safely returned to the 4th kingdom, I would be forced to leave the palace because of how disgraced my family was with me." Malinda made herself cry, a tactic she learned from her adolescence that was now proving essential. Her tears seemed to make the queen uncomfortable, so she took a few steps back, away from Malinda.
"Is that so?" the Ice Queen said, more as an afterthought than a challenge.
"They didn't want me. You were right," she sniffled, wiping away the fake streams of liquid from her cheeks. When she turned her head, she saw Henry for a second. To say he was dismayed was an understatement, and Malinda felt somewhat guilty for leading him on. She sought to give him a sign; a signal that this was all a ruse. "Can you find it in your heart to forgive me?"
The word "heart" was used sparsely in the 8th Kingdom, and rang loudly in Henry's ears. It ignited a mild hope that there was something more to her return; that Malinda wasn't giving in to the Ice Queen's plot for domination. But the Ice Queen could not be so effortlessly fooled; it was more than likely, he decided, that Malinda was telling the truth.
"My trust is not a thing easily earned," the queen replied. "You have seen the error in your ways, but that lone will not put you in my favor." Her voice resonated throughout the hall, made all the more massive by its reverberation against the stone walls.
"What must I do?"
"Pledge yourself to me. Tomorrow night," she answered, now motioning around the room like an actress on the stage. "Do that and all will be forgiven."
Malinda nodded enthusiastically, made giddy by the idea of making her mother happy – at least, that's what she hoped she was conveying. The Ice Queen shooed all the other members of the castle away, even the horrified Henry. Before they themselves departed, the Ice Queen summoned a lingering servant who held a large coat. She delicately placed it over her daughter's shoulders, done more for modesty than cold prevention.
They walked back down the hall, past the large doors, and to the stairs. Malinda was right behind her, picking up pieces of her torn gown from off the floor and constantly readjusting the over-sized coat. She hated being in that outfit, gawked at by all those people in such unflattering light. But Malinda no longer felt the cold; her powers were coming back – a fact that replenished her dying optimism.
Once they reached the top of the staircase, a servant girl, brown-haired and stout, was summoned from a corner. Malinda had thought the girl was a statue, so monotone and immobile. "She will escort you to your room. In the morning, we will begin preparations for the ceremony." With that, the queen left, her robotic words still echoing through the hall. A ceremony? Malinda wondered. The purpose of her peculiar gown was suddenly revealed.
Despite her worry, Malinda let a grin escape her lips. She marveled at her ability to deceive, and felt all the more capable of making her trip back worth something.
x
The dawn brought promises of a more productive date. After a day full of unpleasant surprises, the Ice Queen had one more matter to take care of. She walked along the narrow corridor of the castle's lowest level – a place where prisoners had once been kept years before the kingdom's prison had been erected, but where a certain royal hostage still called home for weeks now. At the furthest end of the hallway was the palace's blacksmith. A once toned and physically fit man, the blacksmith, not having much work to be done since his last job – the creation of a bracelet for the queen's daughter – was an obese, balding, dark-toothed man who was all too happy to receive another task from his queen.
The Ice Queen arrived at the blacksmith's door, which was left slightly opened as he expected her majesty's company. She pushed the wooden door forward with her fingernail, the digit alone possessing enough strength to open it fully.
She saw bits of sparks and fire erupting from behind the portly man, pleased by the fervor of his labor. "It is good to see you so passionate," she said, somewhat startling him. "It is pleasing to know some people are still loyal to their leader."
"You ne'er have to worry 'bout me, your highness," he responded, bowing and wiping his sweaty brow in the same motion.
"How is it coming along?" she asked, approaching his working station. On it were the beginnings of a petite dagger, already starting to display adornments on its blade and handle. It was for the ceremony that would take place that night, in where Malinda would pledge her allegiance to the queen. Just the thought of a decade's worth of planning becoming so tangible elicited a smile from the queen.
"Oh v'ry well. It'll be done in time," the blacksmith reassured.
"That's what I like to hear. Carry on." With that, she sauntered out of the nearly lightless area. Her plan was almost complete. At last.
xxxxxxx
Malinda sat on her bed's edge, rubbing her sore neck from a practically sleepless night. Visions of Derek – or another henchman for that matter – storming into her room and beating her senseless still haunted her, making it impossible for her to shut her eyes for longer than 5 minutes. The mattress itself, like everything else in the castle, was stiff and uncomfortable; it was meant more for fashion than function.
So for the past hour, Malinda had watched her shadow change position along the cold floor with the dull light of the sunrise. Her thoughts were still on the task at hand, and her mind ran rampant with schemes to avoid the ceremony and defeat her mother in due time.
She was dressed in a white robe, contently throwing away the ruined dress she had worn for too long. The robe was warm, but made of a thick material that restricted Malinda's movements. She recalled her behavior when being taken to her room the night before, replaying the moments in her head to check for any inconsistencies in her performance. When she and the servant girl had reached her room's door, Malinda has casually slithered past the ajar door. She had wanted to emanate an air of arrogance and superiority with her rudeness. Even though the queen was not around, Malinda knew, based on past experiences, that the Ice Queen had spies everywhere, whose eyes were pealed at all times. Malinda had hoped her aberrant discourtesy would further prove to her wicked mother that she had changed.
The room, from what Malinda had remembered, was not as she left it. The bed had been made, the canopy's torn fabric repaired, the pieces of furniture had been moved to their correct places. It had seemed like all evidence of Derek's attack, and the mess it caused, was erased, all except for in Malinda's mind.
This room had been a prison for her. When the maid had shut the door, Malinda felt like she was once again trapped. When she had sat on the bed for the first time since her departure, she took off the thick coat the Ice Queen had given her, disregarding it on the floor. She wanted to burn the coat and scrub the skin that had touched it. But the idea was tossed aside after Malinda realized that she would have to wear more of her mother's clothing. I had better get used to it, she had thought.
Malinda paused her memories, planting her bare feet on the marble, trying to get her legs to wake up. She walked towards the closet – a part of the room she had never searched. Upon opening it, Malinda saw rows of white dresses. The lack of color in the entire castle would have been enough to drive her insane. She picked an arbitrary item from the rack: a long, silky dress with a built-in corset in the back. Malinda dropped the gown instantaneously. For the rest of her life, she swore she would never wear a corset again.
Then, she heard the door creak. The shock of the new presence made Malinda gasp quietly, her body shaking with nerves. Slowly, a hand emerged on the side of the door, followed by the rest of the person's body. It was Henry Rivers. And at seeing his face, Malinda calmed down. Of all the people in the 8th Kingdom, he was the only one whose appearance she could tolerate.
"You scared me," she admitted, her hand demonstratively on her chest. He completely entered the room, steadily closing the door behind him. "I don't think you're supposed to be in here," Malinda warned, making her way back to the bed. "My mother will think we're plotting my escape… again," she joked, a prissy grin distorting her features. Malinda had to laugh, she thought, in order to portray herself as a composed person who was not at all troubled by the circumstances around her. Still, hearing the word "mother" in reference to the Ice Queen, said aloud, made Malinda's skin crawl.
"Now why would she think that," Henry said, his voice not mimicking the lightness of Malinda's tone, "when, in the end, you came back." The last portion of his statement was meant to sting, she could tell, but it did not have such an effect. He was angry, she knew, but Malinda could not ease his worries. She had to keep acting.
"Why are you here?" she inquired, trying to change the subject.
"Because I could not sleep, and I feel you are to blame for that."
"Oh I'm sure," she laughed, brushing aside his comment.
"You see," he started, getting closer to Malinda, "I was very confused by the events of yesterday. In the morning, I was reproached by the queen for aiding your escape, and then in the afternoon I was forced to witness your return to this monstrous place... and promising to bind yourself to that same horrid woman whom you were so desperate to get away from."
Malinda grew nervous as Henry's frustration came to the surface; he was starting to take the form of a disgruntled parent reprimanding his child. She leaned away from him, clutching the sheets as he came nearer and nearer to her, aggressively questioning her without actually asking her anything. "I don't see what you're so confused about," she spat back, fighting for control over the conversation. "It's like I said: King Wendell rejected me, and I had no one else to turn to."
"So he went through all that trouble of sending men to rescue you only to banish you from his home?"
"Look, I don't know how his mind works, but that's how it happened. I had to ask the Ice Queen's forgiveness. I had no choice. I mean, what else was I supposed to—"
"You lied to her," he interjected. "And while I have no objection to that, I am still at a loss as to why you lied."
"And what makes you so sure that I'm lying?" she asked smugly, continuing her performance.
"Because it doesn't make any sense," he replied, on the verge of yelling. He took a deep breath, creating some space between the two of them. "And because, despite my limited knowledge of them, I know your family would not reject you in such a way, if even at all." Henry would see Malinda's face twitch, as if she was still unsure if what he claimed was true. Still, the fact that she doubted it – unsure of either possibility – insured him that she was lying. "The Ice Queen may be eager to believe in their uncharacteristic cruelty," he continued, "But I am not."
"Why?" she asked, almost angrily. Malinda could easily dismiss him – and such an act would probably further demonstrate to the Ice Queen of Malinda's alteration in personality – but Malinda felt it comforting to have him nearby. He had betrayed her once, but helped her as well. She could not bring herself to make him leave.
"They want you, Malinda," Henry said, forcing her to look at him by the tenor in his voice. "They adopted you, even though they knew you were the Ice Queen's daughter. That has to stand for something." He took a seat beside her on the mattress, alleviating his pitch. "You're the one who left them Malinda, not the other way around. I'm convinced of it."
She had no rebuttal. She was touched by Henry's words, but looked away from him. "Why does it matter why I came back?" she said softly. "I'm here, I'm going to pledge my loyalty to the queen, and I'm going to fight alongside her. That's all there is to it."
"I don't believe you."
"I don't need you to believe me. I just need her to."
Malinda made eye contact with Henry, an honest smile on her mouth. It was a telling smile, like that a wink or nudge. She let him see what was behind her façade for a tiny moment, wanting to relieve his anxiety. He had helped her; made himself an accomplice in her actions. He deserved to at least know that she had something up her sleeve; that what he was seeing was not truly as it appeared. He smiled back, arising from the bed.
As he walked to the door, it was thrust open by a servant – blonde this time – shoving past Henry and heading straight for Malinda. The maid grabbed Malinda's arm, dragging her to the already opened closet. "What the hell?" Malinda blurted, reclaiming her arm with a solid tug.
"You've been summoned," the woman replied, probing the closet for appropriate attire.
"For what?" Henry asked.
"We have unexpected guests," the maid huffed, tearing herself away from her duties. Malinda stared at the woman intensely, clearly unsatisfied with the answer. "From the 4th Kingdom," she finished in a matter-of-factly way, resuming her search for the perfect dress.
At that, both Henry and Malinda's jaws dropped. Her lie was about to be discovered. Her plan was falling apart.
Damn it.
It's been an embarrassing long time since I've updated this story. I've been very busy, and unfortunately I was unable to keep up with the story. I still have every intention of finishing it, and I'm sorry for the delay.
Thanks to those who have kept reading this story. I really do appreciate it.