Chapter 43: A Green-eyed Monster
"Bevelyn" went pale. "How—how did you know?" Her brown hair shimmered to blonde, then back again.
Sarah shrugged. "Bevelyn would never forget the name of her manservant. Would she," she wasn't certain, but decided to take a chance on the name, "Terrillia?"
With a sparkle of glitter, "Bev" transformed into the tiny, blonde, and disdainful form of her daughter, Terrillia. "So you know me," Terrillia said. "Well, it won't do you any good! I'll give you a choice: either you promise me here and now that you'll refuse the king, or I leave you here to rot."
"What earthly good will that do?" Sarah cried, exasperated. "Even if I do refuse him, he's no more likely to pursue you than he did before!"
"That's what you think!"
Sarah rolled her eyes. "Terrillia, you're wrong. If I refuse him, he's already said that he'll marry Arien! Think about it: if he can't marry for love, then he might as well marry for friendship and position—and what better choice than the High Princess, the daughter of his best friend?"
Terrillia tightened her lips. "You're wrong! With you out of the picture, he'll fall in love with me. He has to! No man can stand to be turned down by the same woman. He'll come to me--just wait and see!" And she disappeared into thin air.
Sarah went and tried the door. It was locked from the inside, but Terrillia had taken the key with her. She thought suddenly of a mystery she'd read once, where the victim had been found keyless inside a room locked from the inside. "I can only imagine what kinds of murder-mysteries they have in this place," she muttered.
Suddenly pessimistic about her chances, Sarah looked around and took stock of the room. There was a padded window-seat that went all around the edge of the windowed room, and a desk in the center of the room. There were some sheets of parchment on the desk, and a quill and inkwell. Struck by a sudden thought, Sarah went over to the desk and sat down. Dipping the quill, she took one of the pages and began to write about what had just happened. "As I was leaving the dance, I was met by Duleith, servant to Lady Bevelyn…" and finished with her being locked in. There. Now if she did stay there till she starved and rotted, at least they'd know what happened to her when they found her!
Scolding herself for such morbid thoughts, she stood up and made a circuit of the room. She thought it odd that an underground castle would even have an observatory, but allowed that even dwarfs must like to watch the stars from time to time.
She thought about what Terrillia had said. Of course she had no respect for the young woman, especially after this, but the girl had brought up some good points that Sarah had purposely been putting off thinking about. She did trust Jareth; that part wasn't in question. What was in question was how she felt about giving up her entire life to him on the basis of three weeks of whirlwind courtship. Why had he waited so long? And how would she be able to still see Toby and her father if she were living in the Underground? Would she have to help Jareth steal babies? They still had never talked about his "job," as neither one knew how to bring up the subject.
And what about her degree that she'd worked so hard at getting: studied, scrimped and saved, foregone any number of things that other people viewed as absolute necessities but that for her had been impossible luxuries. Was all her work and sacrifice to be for nothing?
Discouraged, Sarah sat down on the padded bench that surrounded the room. Well, since she was stuck here, she might at least take off her shoes. All that dancing had started to do a number on her feet. She eased them off and rubbed her arches, hissing slightly. Boy, they hurt! As long as she was here, she might as well put them up for a while.
She put her feet up on the bench and leaned back on her hands, gazing out at the night sky. It was rather nice up here, she thought. It was a bit of a change from all the noise, laughter, politicking, and raucous partying going on below. Up here she could hear nothing but her own breath. She closed her eyes, to enjoy the silence.
In the space of her next breath, she had fallen asleep.