Faenach watched through narrow eyes as Gweneida and Brendan rode in from
the forest. In the last week they had ridden every day. It seemed that
Gweneida had given in to a man at last. If Faenach did not do something
fast the she would slip away.
Faenach needed Gweneida's youth, but that was not the only reason she wanted the princess to stay. It made her feel powerful to have the girl under her thumb. She had gone from hoyden child to ice princess due to Faenach. That was an accomplishment that Faenach prided herself on. Having it paraded in front of her everyday reminded her of the power she was capable of.
Beyond those surface reasons, there was yet another reason Faenach disliked the knight's attention to her stepdaughter, though she was reluctant to admit it even to herself. It galled her pride that he was paying court to Gweneida and not to her. Even though over the past year Gweneida had her share of attention, all of her suitors had been eager to turn their interest to Faenach when they found Gweneida unwilling to participate. This knight had been spurned less than the others, true, but his progress courting Gweneida was slow, yet still he remained focused and loyal to her. Not once did he go beyond common courtesy toward Faenach. Or flirted the slightest bit. When he was not doing business with Basil, he was with her stepdaughter. It was beginning to annoy her.
Faenach glided toward her mirror, her billowing sleeves and train of her gown flowing behind her. She was fast approaching her 30th year; most women began to lose their looks by that time in their life. To assure herself that her beauty was still intact, it was necessary for Faenach to consult the mirror more often. Even though she liked what she saw, she had started to paint her face more thickly than she used to. Not only that, but she also used more spells to keep her skin fair, and her hair bountiful of late. She sighed in satisfaction at what she saw in her reflection. The midnight blue of her gown set her eyes, and the corset made her slim waist almost small enough for her hands to encircle. Her face and form were as perfect as a sixteen year old, if not better.
Faenach began to caress the mirror as her thoughts continued to wander. There was more to her annoyance with the new knight's success with Gweneida than his indifference towards her. It was an even fiercer blow to her ego that Gweneida continued to spurn Alexander, but went riding with a mere knight daily. If possible her attitude had become even colder of late toward the king. Once or twice she had bordered on the line of rudeness. Her refusal only spurred Alexander on. He was determined to win Gweneida.
The actuality that Alexander preferred Gweneida to Faenach was barely tolerable, but still tolerable. However that she scorned the man that was Faenach's lover showed that she considered herself superior. That, of course, would never do. It was time for Faenach to intervene.
***
Gweneida walked into her room somewhat dazed. She threw down her cloak, not caring where it fell. She had just returned from her ride with Brendan, and her emotions were in havoc, as they always were after spending time in his company. She sat down before her mirror. After the long ride her hair was more outside her braids than inside. Gweneida began to undo the long plaits, pulling each strand apart at a time. Once it was all free she started to comb it.
The repetitive rhythmic motion of brushing her hair always relaxed her. Sometimes, as it did now, it even put her into a something of a trance. Even though she stared at her reflection she did not see it. The face in the mirror was one of calmness, a cover for her inner turmoil.
Many of her previous admirers had been charming, but despite her valiant attempts to stay immune to him, none had managed to enchant her as Brendan did. His charm was not in his compliments or way with words, though he did well with both, but rather in his manner. Always he seemed to be at ease. If she did not like him so much it would be very annoying. Even when she had come running toward him with a enchanted wolf behind her he did not panic. His calmness relaxed Gweneida, making her open up to him in a way she had not in a long time. On one or two occasions this new occurrence scared her. Even more than that it confused her.
It had been so long since she had had a friend. For years now she had been the Ice Princess. Even if she was not happy with this, at least she was familiar with it. Having someone come and threaten the way she had lived for years was terrifying. The only reason she did not run was because it felt so good to smile.
Gweneida was too wrapped up in her thoughts to hear the creak of the door. Or see Faenach walk toward her. It was only when the cold hand was put on her shoulder that her presence was noticed. The brief contact sent a shiver down Gweneida's spine, and her back run rigid. Through the mirror Gweneida saw Faenach regard her with a look of concern. With one hand she stroked her hair, while she kept the other on her shoulder. Gweneida fought the impulse to roll her shoulder to rid it of the unwanted presence.
"You have such beautiful hair my dear." Faenach whispered while twisted a strand of it around her white finger. "It is so thick, and so dark. Sometimes I think it is the deepest blue, not black." Her voice was no more than a soft purr, and if Gweneida did not know her true nature she would have been taken in by the sweet tone. Instead Gweneida watched her eyes. They were the only part of Faenach that spoke the truth. And sometimes even they lied. However they were veiled by her pale lashes, shielding Gweneida from Faenach's true purpose.
Faenach lifted her lashes to reveal her ice blue eyes, which were brimming with motherly worry. This must be important to her if she is able to control her eyes, Gweneida realized. It never crossed her mind that Faenach might be showing true concern, because she never was worried with anyone but herself.
She seemed about to say something, but instead turned to sit on Gweneida's bed. Even when she did something spontaneous she moved with practiced grace. She patted the place beside her inviting Gweneida over. Wary, Gweneida complied. She too moved with uncommon elegance, but hers was natural and not learned over the years to entice.
"Now I know we haven't always seen eye-to-eye me dear, and we aren't very close. But you must believe me when I say I am genuinely worried about you." While Faenach said this she drew Gweneida's hands into her own. The gesture should have been one of comfort, but Faenach's hands were like ice, and it was hard not to withdraw from them. To hide her uneasiness she bowed her head. Taking the action as one of acceptance Faenach continued. "You see dearest, not all men are good. Many will take advantage of you and use you. I know that this must be hard for you to understand, because you are such an innocent, but it is true."
It was fortunate that the screen of her hair hid Gweneida's face because she could not help a sarcastic smile that formed on her face. How could Faenach think that she was unaware of the scruples of men when she had been left to their devices with no help? Most mothers would try to protect their daughters from the evils of life outside. Faenach was not one of these mothers. She had shoved Gweneida into the world with not a word of warning or advice. Luckily, that Gweneida was a quick learner.
"Some men will pretend to love you, when all they love is your money. I don't like the possibility of you falling into such a trap. Be careful won't you?" Whatever she expected Gweneida to do in response to this well practiced warning, she did not think she would look up with a genuine smile on her face. Faenach briefly showed her surprise at this action, but quickly turned it into a returning smile.
"Of course I will be Madame. I am sure your advice is wise and will do all I can to comply." Gweneida answered. She spoke with sincerity and awe in her voice. It was only inside her self that she was brimming with laughter. Did Faenach think she was stupid enough to fall for such a ruse? Compared to her usual manipulations this plot was very ill planned. It had been years since she had fallen for Faenach's fake sympathy. She knew exactly how to react to such a ploy. She would have to listen to her advice, pretend to consider it, and then ignore it.
If she was surprised by her acceptance Faenach showed no sign. "I am glad you are taking my word seriously love." With that she gave Gweneida's hand a final affectionate pat and left the room.
After a good chuckle Gweneida started to ponder what Faenach had said while she tugged at her hair. The familiar movement brought her a small piece of comfort after such an unnerving situation. She gave no relevance to the suggestion that Brendan was
after her position; after all, he had told her himself that he was happy with his small manor. However it did seem odd that her stepmother had brought it up. Faenach would not have done so if her behavior around him were not obviously different than towards her past suitors. Before now Gweneida had not realized how unusual she was acting. Well no, that wasn't true. She had known that she liked him more and enjoyed spending time with him more than any of the others, but she had not known that her behavior was so apparent.
She had become the flirt that she always vowed not to be. Suddenly she was very angry, though she was not sure if it was at herself or at Brendan. She shot off the bed and started to pace the room.
Something would have to change; she could not continue to embarrass herself around Brendan. Either he would have to stop courting her, or she would have to stop reacting to his advances. And because it did not seem likely that he would stop any time soon, it left the latter to be done. With her newfound resolution Gweneida stopped pacing and straightened her back, prepared for battle.
***
"Excuse me ma'am, do you know where the princess is?" Brendan pulled a hustling servant woman to the side and questioned her. The woman seemed irritated at being interrupted from her work, but after seeing who it was gave a genuine smile.
"She just went for a walk sir. Most likely she went towards the mill, that's her favorite place to walk this time of year." Brendan thanked her and continued on his way. At first he had thought the positive reaction to his courtship from the servants was odd, but he soon realized it came from love of their mistress, and a wish to see her happily wed. Without their willingness to supply information on her whereabouts it would be impossible to ever find her. King Basil might have been willing to help, but when not doing work with Brendan he barricaded himself into his office. And certainly neither Alexander nor Faenach would aid him in his quest.
Gweneida's withdrawal from him had begun a few weeks past, with no apparent reason. For the first time Brendan knew why she was called the Ice Princess, at times it seemed that she was not human. He would have lost heart were it not for the memory of her sad smile, and the rare whimsy that he had seen creep into her eyes when she thought he was not looking.
After spending near three weeks at the castle he could get around with little mishap. From his time wandering the corridors he had learned much about the folk of the castle. They were all loyal to the princess, and to a lesser degree the king. Although often they complained about their sire's lack of interest in the affairs of the kingdom, they just as often commented on his past glory. Ever since the death of her mother they had been Gweneida's family. They had raised her, loved her, and seen her grow. It was mostly for her sake that they stayed, putting up with the occasional abuse of Queen Faenach.
Brendan took a sharp corner at the stables and arrived at the base of the hill. On the peak there stood an old mill that was had recently started to tumble down. In the distance he could see the small figure of Gweneida against the setting sun. He started taking large steps to catch up with her.
Gweneida turned around when he was half way up the hill. Because of her pause Brendan thought she was going to wait for him, but then she continued on her way, taking strides that tried to hide her increasing speed. With a grin he changed his pace also until he was a few feet behind.
"Good evening Princess. Beautiful day for a walk isn't it?" Brendan said, looking up into the sky in appreciation. It was the first time the sky had been clear of clouds in days, and although he had seen Gweneida itching to get out, she had been unable to. The only flaw with their surroundings was that the ground was still muddy from the rain. Every step they took sucked at, and then squished in the mud.
While he was looking up Brendan stumbled on a log. With a quick jump he avoided a fall, but just barely. To his shock Gweneida had an innocent look on her face, condemning her for not warning him. Brendan chuckled at her trick good-naturedly. "It is a good thing I am no longer clumsy. I used to trip over my feet every day. Once during training I fell off my horse when a bird flew by his nose and spoken him, and me to tell the truth, it was very embarrassing." While Brendan continued with his story he saw Gweneida give a small sigh of resignation. It had not taken her long to find out about his tendency to talk. She tolerated it better than most, though her annoyance at times was apparent. So far she had not snapped at him for prattling. Her acceptance of his habit was another reason he continued with his pursuit of her, she had more to recommend herself than she thought.
"Well, that was a long time ago. Now I have my feet firmly planted on the ground." With that last declaration he took a large step forward. Unfortunately he had forgotten the muddy ground and went tumbling down the hill. Because they were near the top he had a long way to fall, and did not do so with grace. When he reached the bottom he made a gallant attempt to regain his feet. But as soon as he stood he toppled back over.
Gweneida grabbed her skirts and ran down the hill. Not once did she stumble until she sat by his side. Brendan blinked up dazedly. Her concerned face peered down at him with genuine worry. "Brendan, Brendan, are you all right? Please tell me you are all right!" Gweneida squeaked as she grabbed for his hand. Brendan was unable to do more than nod. In the back of his mind he noticed her distress at his welfare and hoped it meant he was making progress getting into her heart.
At the stunned look on his face Gweneida tried to stifle a chuckle. When he noticed and started to lean forward, only to fall back again when he slipped her chuckles turned to laughs. Then her laughs developed into hoots. Soon she was rolling on the ground in mirth, becoming just as muddy as he. Brendan couldn't help but grin down at her, even though it hurt his head to do so. The ice princess had at last melted
Faenach needed Gweneida's youth, but that was not the only reason she wanted the princess to stay. It made her feel powerful to have the girl under her thumb. She had gone from hoyden child to ice princess due to Faenach. That was an accomplishment that Faenach prided herself on. Having it paraded in front of her everyday reminded her of the power she was capable of.
Beyond those surface reasons, there was yet another reason Faenach disliked the knight's attention to her stepdaughter, though she was reluctant to admit it even to herself. It galled her pride that he was paying court to Gweneida and not to her. Even though over the past year Gweneida had her share of attention, all of her suitors had been eager to turn their interest to Faenach when they found Gweneida unwilling to participate. This knight had been spurned less than the others, true, but his progress courting Gweneida was slow, yet still he remained focused and loyal to her. Not once did he go beyond common courtesy toward Faenach. Or flirted the slightest bit. When he was not doing business with Basil, he was with her stepdaughter. It was beginning to annoy her.
Faenach glided toward her mirror, her billowing sleeves and train of her gown flowing behind her. She was fast approaching her 30th year; most women began to lose their looks by that time in their life. To assure herself that her beauty was still intact, it was necessary for Faenach to consult the mirror more often. Even though she liked what she saw, she had started to paint her face more thickly than she used to. Not only that, but she also used more spells to keep her skin fair, and her hair bountiful of late. She sighed in satisfaction at what she saw in her reflection. The midnight blue of her gown set her eyes, and the corset made her slim waist almost small enough for her hands to encircle. Her face and form were as perfect as a sixteen year old, if not better.
Faenach began to caress the mirror as her thoughts continued to wander. There was more to her annoyance with the new knight's success with Gweneida than his indifference towards her. It was an even fiercer blow to her ego that Gweneida continued to spurn Alexander, but went riding with a mere knight daily. If possible her attitude had become even colder of late toward the king. Once or twice she had bordered on the line of rudeness. Her refusal only spurred Alexander on. He was determined to win Gweneida.
The actuality that Alexander preferred Gweneida to Faenach was barely tolerable, but still tolerable. However that she scorned the man that was Faenach's lover showed that she considered herself superior. That, of course, would never do. It was time for Faenach to intervene.
***
Gweneida walked into her room somewhat dazed. She threw down her cloak, not caring where it fell. She had just returned from her ride with Brendan, and her emotions were in havoc, as they always were after spending time in his company. She sat down before her mirror. After the long ride her hair was more outside her braids than inside. Gweneida began to undo the long plaits, pulling each strand apart at a time. Once it was all free she started to comb it.
The repetitive rhythmic motion of brushing her hair always relaxed her. Sometimes, as it did now, it even put her into a something of a trance. Even though she stared at her reflection she did not see it. The face in the mirror was one of calmness, a cover for her inner turmoil.
Many of her previous admirers had been charming, but despite her valiant attempts to stay immune to him, none had managed to enchant her as Brendan did. His charm was not in his compliments or way with words, though he did well with both, but rather in his manner. Always he seemed to be at ease. If she did not like him so much it would be very annoying. Even when she had come running toward him with a enchanted wolf behind her he did not panic. His calmness relaxed Gweneida, making her open up to him in a way she had not in a long time. On one or two occasions this new occurrence scared her. Even more than that it confused her.
It had been so long since she had had a friend. For years now she had been the Ice Princess. Even if she was not happy with this, at least she was familiar with it. Having someone come and threaten the way she had lived for years was terrifying. The only reason she did not run was because it felt so good to smile.
Gweneida was too wrapped up in her thoughts to hear the creak of the door. Or see Faenach walk toward her. It was only when the cold hand was put on her shoulder that her presence was noticed. The brief contact sent a shiver down Gweneida's spine, and her back run rigid. Through the mirror Gweneida saw Faenach regard her with a look of concern. With one hand she stroked her hair, while she kept the other on her shoulder. Gweneida fought the impulse to roll her shoulder to rid it of the unwanted presence.
"You have such beautiful hair my dear." Faenach whispered while twisted a strand of it around her white finger. "It is so thick, and so dark. Sometimes I think it is the deepest blue, not black." Her voice was no more than a soft purr, and if Gweneida did not know her true nature she would have been taken in by the sweet tone. Instead Gweneida watched her eyes. They were the only part of Faenach that spoke the truth. And sometimes even they lied. However they were veiled by her pale lashes, shielding Gweneida from Faenach's true purpose.
Faenach lifted her lashes to reveal her ice blue eyes, which were brimming with motherly worry. This must be important to her if she is able to control her eyes, Gweneida realized. It never crossed her mind that Faenach might be showing true concern, because she never was worried with anyone but herself.
She seemed about to say something, but instead turned to sit on Gweneida's bed. Even when she did something spontaneous she moved with practiced grace. She patted the place beside her inviting Gweneida over. Wary, Gweneida complied. She too moved with uncommon elegance, but hers was natural and not learned over the years to entice.
"Now I know we haven't always seen eye-to-eye me dear, and we aren't very close. But you must believe me when I say I am genuinely worried about you." While Faenach said this she drew Gweneida's hands into her own. The gesture should have been one of comfort, but Faenach's hands were like ice, and it was hard not to withdraw from them. To hide her uneasiness she bowed her head. Taking the action as one of acceptance Faenach continued. "You see dearest, not all men are good. Many will take advantage of you and use you. I know that this must be hard for you to understand, because you are such an innocent, but it is true."
It was fortunate that the screen of her hair hid Gweneida's face because she could not help a sarcastic smile that formed on her face. How could Faenach think that she was unaware of the scruples of men when she had been left to their devices with no help? Most mothers would try to protect their daughters from the evils of life outside. Faenach was not one of these mothers. She had shoved Gweneida into the world with not a word of warning or advice. Luckily, that Gweneida was a quick learner.
"Some men will pretend to love you, when all they love is your money. I don't like the possibility of you falling into such a trap. Be careful won't you?" Whatever she expected Gweneida to do in response to this well practiced warning, she did not think she would look up with a genuine smile on her face. Faenach briefly showed her surprise at this action, but quickly turned it into a returning smile.
"Of course I will be Madame. I am sure your advice is wise and will do all I can to comply." Gweneida answered. She spoke with sincerity and awe in her voice. It was only inside her self that she was brimming with laughter. Did Faenach think she was stupid enough to fall for such a ruse? Compared to her usual manipulations this plot was very ill planned. It had been years since she had fallen for Faenach's fake sympathy. She knew exactly how to react to such a ploy. She would have to listen to her advice, pretend to consider it, and then ignore it.
If she was surprised by her acceptance Faenach showed no sign. "I am glad you are taking my word seriously love." With that she gave Gweneida's hand a final affectionate pat and left the room.
After a good chuckle Gweneida started to ponder what Faenach had said while she tugged at her hair. The familiar movement brought her a small piece of comfort after such an unnerving situation. She gave no relevance to the suggestion that Brendan was
after her position; after all, he had told her himself that he was happy with his small manor. However it did seem odd that her stepmother had brought it up. Faenach would not have done so if her behavior around him were not obviously different than towards her past suitors. Before now Gweneida had not realized how unusual she was acting. Well no, that wasn't true. She had known that she liked him more and enjoyed spending time with him more than any of the others, but she had not known that her behavior was so apparent.
She had become the flirt that she always vowed not to be. Suddenly she was very angry, though she was not sure if it was at herself or at Brendan. She shot off the bed and started to pace the room.
Something would have to change; she could not continue to embarrass herself around Brendan. Either he would have to stop courting her, or she would have to stop reacting to his advances. And because it did not seem likely that he would stop any time soon, it left the latter to be done. With her newfound resolution Gweneida stopped pacing and straightened her back, prepared for battle.
***
"Excuse me ma'am, do you know where the princess is?" Brendan pulled a hustling servant woman to the side and questioned her. The woman seemed irritated at being interrupted from her work, but after seeing who it was gave a genuine smile.
"She just went for a walk sir. Most likely she went towards the mill, that's her favorite place to walk this time of year." Brendan thanked her and continued on his way. At first he had thought the positive reaction to his courtship from the servants was odd, but he soon realized it came from love of their mistress, and a wish to see her happily wed. Without their willingness to supply information on her whereabouts it would be impossible to ever find her. King Basil might have been willing to help, but when not doing work with Brendan he barricaded himself into his office. And certainly neither Alexander nor Faenach would aid him in his quest.
Gweneida's withdrawal from him had begun a few weeks past, with no apparent reason. For the first time Brendan knew why she was called the Ice Princess, at times it seemed that she was not human. He would have lost heart were it not for the memory of her sad smile, and the rare whimsy that he had seen creep into her eyes when she thought he was not looking.
After spending near three weeks at the castle he could get around with little mishap. From his time wandering the corridors he had learned much about the folk of the castle. They were all loyal to the princess, and to a lesser degree the king. Although often they complained about their sire's lack of interest in the affairs of the kingdom, they just as often commented on his past glory. Ever since the death of her mother they had been Gweneida's family. They had raised her, loved her, and seen her grow. It was mostly for her sake that they stayed, putting up with the occasional abuse of Queen Faenach.
Brendan took a sharp corner at the stables and arrived at the base of the hill. On the peak there stood an old mill that was had recently started to tumble down. In the distance he could see the small figure of Gweneida against the setting sun. He started taking large steps to catch up with her.
Gweneida turned around when he was half way up the hill. Because of her pause Brendan thought she was going to wait for him, but then she continued on her way, taking strides that tried to hide her increasing speed. With a grin he changed his pace also until he was a few feet behind.
"Good evening Princess. Beautiful day for a walk isn't it?" Brendan said, looking up into the sky in appreciation. It was the first time the sky had been clear of clouds in days, and although he had seen Gweneida itching to get out, she had been unable to. The only flaw with their surroundings was that the ground was still muddy from the rain. Every step they took sucked at, and then squished in the mud.
While he was looking up Brendan stumbled on a log. With a quick jump he avoided a fall, but just barely. To his shock Gweneida had an innocent look on her face, condemning her for not warning him. Brendan chuckled at her trick good-naturedly. "It is a good thing I am no longer clumsy. I used to trip over my feet every day. Once during training I fell off my horse when a bird flew by his nose and spoken him, and me to tell the truth, it was very embarrassing." While Brendan continued with his story he saw Gweneida give a small sigh of resignation. It had not taken her long to find out about his tendency to talk. She tolerated it better than most, though her annoyance at times was apparent. So far she had not snapped at him for prattling. Her acceptance of his habit was another reason he continued with his pursuit of her, she had more to recommend herself than she thought.
"Well, that was a long time ago. Now I have my feet firmly planted on the ground." With that last declaration he took a large step forward. Unfortunately he had forgotten the muddy ground and went tumbling down the hill. Because they were near the top he had a long way to fall, and did not do so with grace. When he reached the bottom he made a gallant attempt to regain his feet. But as soon as he stood he toppled back over.
Gweneida grabbed her skirts and ran down the hill. Not once did she stumble until she sat by his side. Brendan blinked up dazedly. Her concerned face peered down at him with genuine worry. "Brendan, Brendan, are you all right? Please tell me you are all right!" Gweneida squeaked as she grabbed for his hand. Brendan was unable to do more than nod. In the back of his mind he noticed her distress at his welfare and hoped it meant he was making progress getting into her heart.
At the stunned look on his face Gweneida tried to stifle a chuckle. When he noticed and started to lean forward, only to fall back again when he slipped her chuckles turned to laughs. Then her laughs developed into hoots. Soon she was rolling on the ground in mirth, becoming just as muddy as he. Brendan couldn't help but grin down at her, even though it hurt his head to do so. The ice princess had at last melted