As quiet as Lily's knock was, it was apparently loud enough. "Enter!" her father's voice called. Kind as it was, it held a note of command. Lily took a deep breath, still unsure why she was dreading this meeting so, pushed the doors open and slid through to face her father.
He was sitting at his desk, a pair of spectacles perched on his broad face as he looked intently down at a mess of parchments on his desk. "Close the door?" he asked absentmindedly. Lily obeyed, knowing that Clara's face was falling with disappointment.
As the heavy doors clicked shut, Clarence removed his spectacles and looked closely at his daughter for the first time. She looked back, noting the faded blue eyes, the thinning brown hair, the creasing around his eyes.
"You look lovely, daughter," he said finally.
"Clara said that I look like my mother," she returned uncertainly.
"Ahh, your mother." He smiled slightly and nodded. "Did I ever tell you how I met your mother, Lily?"
"No, Father, you haven't." Now she was curious. Her father was a guarded man, and he almost never spoke of her mother, certainly not of the past.
He rose to his feet, his brown tunic shifting around him as he walked over towards the window. "I was a young prince, then, of course, and," he coughed uncomfortably, "very fond of the, er, presence of many young ladies. My parents despaired of making a proper prince out of a rogue like me, but as I was not the heir to the throne – my older brother Thomas was, of course – they began to wash their hands of me. After all, even if I were to father a thousand bastards, not one of them could lay claim to the throne."
Lily's eyes grew round. Her father had never spoken to her this straightforwardly before. She could not even begin to imagine where it would all lead.
"But then," Clarence continued, "as you know, Thomas was killed in a riding accident. His horse balked at a jump and threw him. Thomas broke his neck and died immediately. Suddenly I, the younger son, the unfit one, was to inherit the throne and the safekeeping of this country. I was furious. Taking responsibility had never been my strong suit, and here I was, being told that I must take responsibility not only for myself, but for the hundreds of thousands of people who live in this country. My mother, god rest her sweet soul, decided that the only way to bring me around to proper behavior was to find me a good woman, a good queen, one from whose side I wouldn't stray. And so she found your mother.
"The Princess Rose was the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen in my life. She looked a lot like –" he looked over at Lily fondly, "—a young woman I came to know years later."
"Father," Lily said softly, "why are you telling me this?"
He looked out the window again. A warm breeze blew threw the room as he stared down into the forest that his castle overlooked. "I fell in love with Rose as soon as I saw her," he said quietly, "but I can't say that she felt the same about me. I wasn't particularly handsome, nor was I overmuch interesting to talk to. I had one talent, which was bedding women, and I could not bed your mother as I wished. Not till after we were married, in any case, and I knew she would not marry me unless she grew to love me. I knew I had to change if I was to keep this... angel. So I changed. I became as good a person, as interesting a person as I was humanly able. And she took notice of all of this. She came to love me too, a great deal, I think. The day we were married was the happiest of my life. And the night that followed..."
A blush stained Lily's cheekbones. "Father, please."
He looked back at her, returning from his memories. "You're right. My apologies. Anyhow, nine months later, you were born..."
"...and Mama died," Lily finished softly. "I know it's my fault, Father, but—"
"No!" Clarence exclaimed. "It wasn't your fault. I have never blamed you for her death, Lily. She..." he wiped his eyes. "She died happily," he said hoarsely, "because she knew that you were a healthy, beautiful little girl. And I managed to be a good king for this country, because of what I had made of myself for her."
Losing his composure entirely, he turned to the window and hung his head. Lily felt embarrassed for him, and for herself as well, because she didn't know what to say. Why are men so awkward? Why do they never know the right thing to say to do? He always did. Realizing what she was thinking, she quickly shook the thought out of her head and coolly resigned herself to waiting for her father to begin breathing normally. Hating herself for it, she just stood there silently until her father regained his calm and turned back to face her, shoulders squared.
"Do you understand?" he asked. "She did not love me at first, but love grew between us, and we were very happy."
A terrible thought took shape in Lily's mind. "Father?" she said hesitantly. "Why—why are you telling me this?"
"I'm telling you this because you're no longer a little girl, Lily," the king said frankly. "I'm telling you this because you're a young woman, and because...because the prince of Ethril has asked for your hand in marriage."
Lily's head spun. It felt like she had just been punched in the stomach. "The—the prince of Ethril?" she managed to choke out.
"And I've given my blessing to the match," he said.
Lily grabbed the edge of his desk to steady herself. She grasped the cold wood, grateful for the feeling of something real and solid.
"It's a good match, Lily," he continued. "I'm certainly not going to live forever, and I'll be able to rest easier knowing that Prince Edgar can provide you with the comforts to which you are accustomed. He's a good man, daughter, and... Remember your mother. Love can grow, and I can't imagine that it wouldn't grow for you."
I can, she thought numbly. Because I've already given my love to another, Father.
King Clarence walked over to her and put his hand comfortingly on her shoulder. "I know you have nightmares, Lily, though I don't know what or wherefore. They make it difficult for you to sleep. I know you're tired; I can see it in your face. If your future is secured, perhaps you too will be able to rest easier at nights?"
Tears welled up in her eyes, despite her most earnest attempts to stop them. She wanted to scream. She wanted to throw his offer of marriage and security back in his face. But she was a princess, and she knew well what was expected of her. "Yes, Father," she whispered, her head hanging.
***********************************************
Back in her room, she lay on her bed and stared at the pink silk canopy billowing above her. Though she knew that it hadn't moved, it seemed to press closer to her, trapping her, choking her.
Who can save me? Lily closed her eyes and swallowed. A face loomed, superimposed on her closed eyelids. It wasn't a handsome face at all, really. Quite hideous. It was red, with yellow cat-eyes and sharp angles, crowned by a pair of majestic black horns. It most often sneered, revealing its fangs, but sometimes it could look almost painfully earnest. It was a face of a demon. The demon, in fact, and though she didn't know why, he appeared in her mind more and more often. Lower down from the face was a huge body, red as his face, well-muscled, covered in a billowing cape that looked like a velvet night with a thousand blinking stars, and lower than that... Lily blushed. She didn't know what was lower than that. She hadn't looked. Not that I should, she scolded herself. I'm a well-brought up princess, for goodness' sake, and he was trying to kill us all. She squinched her eyes shut and forced Jack's visage into her mind instead. His sweet face, his soft eyes, his tender kiss floated before her. I can't marry Prince Edgar, she told herself firmly. Jack and I are promised to each other. He trusted me, he saved me. I love him. I don't know what I'm going to do, but I'll do something. Even as she resolved to fight this marriage, though, Jack's face wavered and disappeared, to be replaced by the demon's face again. A large, red, clawed hand reached out to her as a smirk appeared on his face. The echoes of "Beneath the skin, we are already one," rumbled through her mind, sending tremors of heat through her body.
She opened her eyes and moaned, beads of sweat popping out on her forehead, the velvet dress suddenly stifling. What is wrong with me? Lily thought in horror, but she was afraid, terribly afraid that she already knew.
That dark spell had changed her, and there was some darkness left still within her, despite all attempts to banish it.
Exhausted, she could deny it no longer. Her heart cried out for Jack, but her body was, perhaps still under a spell or perhaps in truth, calling for him. For the Lord of Darkness.