The eve of the third festival day was an active one for the prince of the Central Commonwealth, just as the day was before it.
Previously, Prince Zane had prepared himself for his joust, speaking closely with his advisor Cryptor. After doing so, he spurred Shard beneath him and cantered into the jousting arena, braced once more for honorable combat in the jousting arena.
Once he entered the field, the immediate sound of cheering greeted him. It brought a slight smile to his face, and he raised his lance high to salute the audience. Near the tip he knew Pansy's favour waved in the air, but he could not see it, for his visor was too narrow. Nevertheless, he displayed it proudly; it was for them to see, not him.
At the other side of the field, he came to a stop, circling to face that side of the stands. Above him was a box in which his father, King Julien, sat and watched the tournament with his close advisors. Zane lifted his head so that he might see his father, smiling. The older man smiled down at him, and despite the helmet and visor in the way, it felt approving.
Zane slowly glanced about the crowd. Zane's heart pounded in his ears as he tried to search for Pansy, knowing it was unlikely to spot her. However, after the proper respectful time had been paid to his father, he had to turn and go to his starting mark for his joust, to wait for his opponent to ready himself.
The first of his jousts that night was Sir Clutch Powers, a noble known more for his adventurous tastes than for his fighting prowess. The man was a heavy hitter, but that was less due to his strength and more to do with his girth. As such, the key to his victory was to destabilize him, not to brute-force his way, and Zane knew just the technique to do so. As the herald announced their match, a cool determination fell upon the prince.
A bell sounded behind Zane to start the first attack. He spurred Shard into a gallop, full-tilt in his assault, and raised his lance. Moments later, the weapon struck Clutch, the force reverberating into Zane as the four-pronged head hit Clutch's breastplate. Clutch's lance veered off in the other direction due to his lack of balance, even as he stayed astride.
As they progressed to the second attack, both remained astride their steeds. The crowd roared with cheering as they returned to their starting marks.
The bell sounded again, and the prince spurred his horse again. Again his lance struck his opponent, this time on the helmet. The force turned Clutch's head fiercely, but he did not fall, his own lance glancing off Zane's gauntlet.
A third time the bell rang, and off they went again. This time Clutch's lance struck his pauldron, glancing off painfully.
Zane cried out at the impact, the sound drowned out by the crowd's gasping. He found himself partially unbalanced, but corrected himself quickly, finding himself pushed back in the saddle. After a few moments' struggle, he was righted once more.
The fourth attack neared, and Zane returned to his mark, tiring quickly. Determination flowed through him, and he decided that this would be the final push.
Shard whinnied, and he placed a hand on the horse's neck, rubbing soothingly. Then he spurred him at the sound of the bell, and Shard galloped forward.
Within moments, the clashing sound of metal filled Zane's ears. He braced himself, eyes shut tightly, as his lance struck Clutch fully, surely in the chest. Then he looked, and saw Clutch had been pushed off his steed, while Shard had continued forward and circled the rail.
Within moments, Zane came to a stop. Breathing hard, he massaged Shard's neck with one hand, and then turned him around.
As Shard neighed into the awed silence, he raised his lance in victory. Pansy's favour remained on it.
The crowd roared in celebration. Zane wheeled around to see the king and bowed his head in respect.
The next few jousts continued in the same pattern, as Zane faced several other knights of the kingdom. Ever the uncontested champion, not once did he fall.
The knights he faced were some he had met before and some not, but all were highly skilled. He faced Lady Seven of the Prime family, known for her agility. Then he was against Sir Acronix and Sir Crux, who were visiting from the southern kingdom of Kaiyo. Finally, he defeated Sir Mindroid, Cryptor's recently knighted brother.
Before he knew it, the tournament was over. Zane and Shard, equally tired, came to face the king as their final opponent left the field to good-natured cheering.
Now that the jousting was over, Zane took off his helmet. It was then that he noticed a servant next to him. He turned.
"What is it?"
"Your father wishes for you to inform him of what the lady looks like, so that he might help your search."
"I take it Cryptor must have told him. Very well." Zane smiled tiredly at the thought of her. "She has fair hair, almost silver, and green eyes."
The servant nodded. "Thank you, your Highness." Then he left, taking hidden hallways to the king's box. Zane spied him speaking to the king, and quietly surveyed the arena, which was still cheering somewhat. However, he could not tell one person from another.
Suddenly, the cheering died down a fair bit, all at once. The king had raised his hand. When sufficient quiet came, he spoke.
"My people, I thank you for your enthusiasm for this tournament. I hope that you have enjoyed the festival!"
Zane smiled as the crowd cheered, knowing his work was worthwhile. He wondered if Pansy had enjoyed it as much as others.
"Good, good! There is one last announcement for you, on behalf of my son, Prince Zane." King Julien smiled down at his son benevolently. Zane nodded for him to continue, acquiescing silently. "He would like to inform you of the fact that this festival has been a success! He has chosen a lady to favor, but is faced with a challenge to find her."
At the sound of his words, it was as if a battle had begun in the crowd, if only to explain the monstrous noise that assaulted Zane's ears. Many were excited, but some were despairing, and quite a few were even laughing. He winced at the sound.
The king tried to calm them, and eventually succeeded in a marginal way. "Now, my people, please. I will tell you what she is like, that you may help my dear son. The lady he is seeking has the fairest of hair and green eyes. He does not wish to disclose her name– let it only be known that the name is short. He seeks to return her favour, as thanks for the luck it brought him. Anyone who aids in her discovery will be handsomely rewarded." These words surprised Zane. Cryptor had been thorough in protecting the lady, yet discerning.
The chaos stirred by the king's words did not die for some time, and it equally soothed and concerned Zane. Nevertheless, he was determined to make use of the opportunity his father had given to him, and decided to try to find her again that night.
When the prince finally left the field, he did not delay, having hope for one last moment with Pansy. He dismounted from Shard in the quiet and safety of the stables, already unbuckling his armor and taking it off. A stable boy came to brush down the horse, and Shard nickered as Zane fed him an apple, petting his nose in thanks.
Once he had finished caring for Shard and taking off his armor, Zane hastily left the arena, moving quickly. He skirted the crowds that wandered the paths and walkways, coming to the isolated place where Pansy had bid him farewell earlier. It was there that he hoped to find her one last time, if only to bid her goodbye properly- to perhaps to convince her. When he reached the place, however, his heart sank.
Despite his flimsy hopes, the lady did not make herself present. He had expected such, but it was no less hurtful, knowing that Pansy had left. It was as if she had vanished in a puff of smoke, he thought wryly. Perhaps she was upset with him? The only trace of her ever being there was a simple silver hairclip, which she had worn each day of the festival, laying on the ground.
Zane picked it up and examined it, turning it over in his hands. It was engraved with some archaic symbol, which he could not decipher. To his happiness, it showed no visible signs of damage. It was one more thing he would have to return to her when he found her, and he knew he would eventually. She knew it, too.
Zane returned home to the castle after that moment, to speak to his father. It was decided that the search would begin the following day, with Cryptor by his side. Zane would waste no time waiting to find Pansy. He would search for her, he would find her, and he would speak to her father as soon as he was sure that she was willing.
The prince's hopes rose, albeit foolishly, as he envisioned what was to come. When he found Pansy, there were many things he would say to her, which propriety forbade before such time. His face heated at the ideas that passed through his mind. Perhaps it would not be wise for him to start thinking about all of them yet.
Pixal wiped her brow, exhaustion creeping upon her. The dew had not yet dried, yet she already worked in the gardens of the estate, pruning the ornamental trees. Her arms ached and her breathing was labored, but she did not expect to find rest, so she persisted in her toil, no longer used to such arduous work.
Since Amaryllis had dismissed the maid, and before her the gardener, it had long fallen to Pixal to keep the gardens in order. She was to plant, to prune, to fertilize, and anything more that was needed. While she had her hairclip, its magic had done this most troublesome of work, so its presence was sorely missed by Pixal. Instead of using magic, she worked all day and into the night to complete the tasks that had only taken her half the day to complete with the help of the clip, not knowing the specialized spells to do them off the top of her head.
The girl sighed, putting down her loppers with a groan. In her meager spare time, she had searched her spellbooks for any useful charms to aid her, but found nothing. There were charms and hexes for any conceivable notion, not that she could remember enough to help her more than the tiniest bit. She entertained the idea of creating a new clip, but even the oldest Shintaran books said nothing about the process of enchanting an object, much less with such an advanced work of magic as the one that had helped her. As such, she was forced to make do, knowing it was unlikely for her to ever receive her property again.
The loss of the clip was not the only difficulty Pixal faced in the days after the festival, for she feared the truth of her location during the festival had been unveiled. Every day, Amaryllis piled more work on her, excusing it with the explanation that the prince was coming at some point. She insisted that he would meet with Begonia and Columbine and find one of them acceptable, if he could not find the elusive lady he sought, and so Pixal had to make their estate acceptable. However, Pixal suspected that it was because she knew of Pixal's lies, and that she was surreptitiously punishing her.
Pixal thought of the king's announcement from the festival and cursed her luck. Prince Zane– not "just Zane" any longer– had given just enough information to make Pixal the obvious candidate, should anyone have thought about it with her in mind. While almost anyone would ignore the similarities after hearing her story, the woman in question was her evil stepmother, who would take any excuse to submit her to torment, even if the story were untrue. As per usual, her family had been quick to treat her poorly, and every day it worsened, for everyone in the Borg family knew the prince's visit was only a matter of time. The only exception was her father, Cyrus, who had returned home and immediately caught a fierce cold, confining him to bed even as the estate was a flurry of activity.
After clearing away the debris from her morning's work outside, Pixal went into the manor, hoping to find a moment to rest before her next ordeal, and perhaps to peruse her books for a solution to her ongoing struggles. However, such was not to be, as she found her stepmother waiting for her in the parlor.
"Pixal!" Amaryllis called.
Pixal came to her, dreading ever step nearer. "What is it, Stepmother?"
"I want to know your opinion on this matter. How frequent is the occurrence of a blonde woman with green eyes?"
"It is not frequent," Pixal responded, fearing a trap.
"That is what I think, too." Amaryllis stood. "Tell me, Pixal. You told me that you were at the estate while we were away during the festival, correct?"
"I did, and I was. You saw me when you returned each day."
"If you were here, then why were the linens unwashed each day?"
"I was tending the gardens and did not have enough time."
"Then why did they need tending today?"
"I did not have enough time to do all the work they required. It is the growing season, Stepmother."
"Would that be why the kitchen is messy, then?"
"Yes, Stepmother. The seasonal work takes a large amount of time."
Amaryllis examined her closely, picking a bit of plant debris from her hair. "I see. Come with me."
Not having any alternatives, Pixal followed her stepmother. Amaryllis led her into the basement, entering Pixal's room without so much as a request for permission. She slowly perused the room, and then stopped near the loose wallboard, still missing several nails. Pixal's heart stopped as she laid her hand upon it, though she did not open it.
"Pretending to be ignorant is not flattering for a lady, Pixal, and neither is deception. Do you agree?"
"Yes, Stepmother."
"Very well, then. I shall not pretend any longer." Amaryllis said, a sinister smile creeping upon her face. "As a matter of fact, neither should you. You may not be a lady, but you will still carry yourself as one."
Pixal's eyes widened. "Stepmother, I assure you, I–"
Before Pixal could finish her sentence, Amaryllis finally opened the wallboard, showing off Pixal's hidden belongings. "You assure me of what, dear Pixal? That you lie?" Her smile was full as she pulled out the paper-wrapped parcel that held Pixal's necklace. "Should I open this and see what you have hidden from me in your deception?"
Pixal shook her head. "It– it is only a trinket. I went to the market while you were at the festival. I'm sorry for not telling you."
"The market?" Her stepmother laughed and unwrapped the paper, lifting the fine gold necklace. "Such finery is not sold at the market here. Do you think me so easily tricked?"
Pixal shook her head again, heart pounding. "No, Stepmother, I don't. I purchased that from a traveling merchant! He did not stay for long before he left, but I did."
Amaryllis did not deign to respond. Instead, she smiled and closed her hand around the necklace. Pixal watched in helplessness as she went, and followed her to the door. "Stepmother, please!"
The older woman set her hand upon the doorknob. "You would do well to take some time to think about how you have tried to deceive me, Pixal. I will not have such a liar embarrass the Borg name in front of royalty."
"There is no royalty here," Pixal asked, a question in her tone. "Did you not say the prince will be coming here in a few days at best?"
"Plans change, Pixal." Amaryllis smiled again, predatory in posture. "I'm sure you understand. No prince would look in the basement and see your clutter, anyway."
She shut the door, and the lock clicked ominously.
Pixal's eyes widened as she realized, and then she ran to the door, pounding upon it. An unfathomable need to escape filled her every fiber. "Stepmother? Stepmother, please! Don't do this!" No answer came, even as she attacked the door, desperately trying the knob. "I can't stay here! I can't be here when he comes! He can't find me here! Stepmother!"
Despite her continued protests, no answer came. The girl tried everything she could, but found all exits to be locked tightly, so that there was no way for her to leave the basement by the door.
Pixal was trapped. The prince was coming, and he would not stop until he was sure none of the members of the house were eligible. When he found her, she knew he would never accept her. The time was coming, and she could not escape.
It's a good thing Zane isn't nosy. Oh, wait...
Only a few chapters left! Leave me a review if you would like. How's it feel to be Pix, do you think?