THE BOTTOM OF A well is wet and covered in moss, some lead to flowing underground rivers, some are like small ponds, collected over time, a small stream as its provider, but above all, it's dark.
It's dark and damp and when you look up, you only see a speck of light, a small speck of hope.
It wasn't until she came that I felt I was pulled out of the well, out of that place and pulled into warmth, her warmth.
She saved me, and I was never going to let her go.
THE NEXT DAY WAS brighter, clouds still cloaked the sky, but the light of the sun broke through.
They let her sleep in, she was up and alone, waiting for them to come in, knowing she couldn't dress herself, but she watched from her window as the dark sky grew paler.
It reminded her of home, but she wasn't sure if that was a good thing any longer.
There was a knock at the door and a sing-song voice that came in. "Hello! Princess? Art thou waketh?"
"Shut up, Lillie. Oh good, you're up."
Ahiru looked back at the two maids, the ones she had met in the hall.
The two talking about Fakir.
"Good morning. Um- you're not my normal maids?"
"Nope." Pique said, coming into the room fully, throwing open the wardrobe that contained all her dresses. "We're the maids assigned to the Crowned Princess."
Lillie giggled behind her hand. "We've been pestering Rue for the past few weeks."
"So it's official than?" Ahiru asked, sitting at her vanity. "Rue and Mytho are-?"
The two shared a look. "Sort of. As far as Nordy's concerned, it is."
"But that handsome Duke that came the other day is throwing a fit!"
Handsome? Ahiru hoped Lillie wasn't talking about that Duke that nearly ran her over.
The Duke that tried to marry Rue.
Pique sighed, almost in agreement. "Tall, dark, and handsome, think he'd ever notice a simple maid like me?"
"No, he's here for Rue, too."
Ahiru shook her head. "Wait, he came to stop Rue and Mytho's wedding?"
"Sort of." Pique said, laying out a dress of a darker color, a pretty plum she was sure wouldn't suit her, the sleeves long, the neckline wide and too deep. Ahiru stood to get dressed, and it felt like she let herself fall into a pack of dogs the way Lillie and Pique's quick hands pinched and pulled to get her into position. "The thing is, is that they wanted her to marry the King, to combine with Nordlingen and expand their borders."
"But they can't do that if she's only marrying a Prince." Lillie said, pulling tightly on the corset lacings.
"Oh." Ahiru pouted, why couldn't they expand borders anyway? She lifted her hands as they pulled the outer plum skin over her head.
"It's all politics." Pique shook her head. "Never let love get in the way."
There was a sadness in her eyes, something Ahiru couldn't exact place, something that made her empathise with Pique.
"So, how did Mytho win?" Ahiru asked. "I missed the last part."
"You did?" Pique's eyes went wide in unbelief. "It was amazing! I was sitting on the Stärke side so I had a decent view."
"Stärke?" She asked.
"Hm? Oh yeah, my house."
House of what? Ahiru blinked her eyes innocently at Pique.
"The House of Stärke? One of the five houses of nobility in Nordy?"
"Oh, you're a noble?"
Pique laughed, and so did Lilllie. "Not exactly. It's more like Stärke house is my extended family. It's kind of a way everyone belongs here."
"Oh, what about you Lillie?"
Lillie smirked, looking proud of her house, "Taktik. The best house."
"Yeah right!" Pique punched Lillie's arm. "Stärke is definitely the best!"
Ahiru smiled, half dressed, but enjoying the spirit they had; the pride they carried. "What are the houses?"
"Let's see; Stärke," Pique said, listing them on her finger. "Taktik, Vermittlung, Stimmung," At the last house, they both stuck out their tongues, "And Verstand."
Then, out of simple curiosity, Ahiru asked: "What house is Fakir in?"
They shared a look. "Uh- no one knows, not really anyway. Charon is the son of a Takik Lady and a Starke Sir, so most put him in one of those houses."
Ahiru nodded, she'd have to ask him, he'd probably know better than these two. "What's the purpose of the houses, anyway?"
"Well, other than making up the different families of the Nobles, the houses represent five of the original runners."
Ahiru searched her memories, "Of the Königsspiel?"
"Yeah!"
"The first Königsspiel had six runners." Lillie said. "Lord Taktik, Sir Stärke, Lady Vermittlung, The Noble Stimmung, Duke Verstand, and Lohengrin."
"Lohengrin? Isn't that Autor's name?" Ahiru asked, remembering the first day she came; the lengthy introductions.
"His King name, yes." Pique said. She sat Ahiru down on the stool. "Sit still."
"Lohengrin was a nobody," Lillie continued. "Just some peasant who knew how to use a sword, but he was good friends with all five of the runners. He gained qualities from all of them that allowed him to be a good and fair King."
"First the House of Stärke." Pique said, combing out Ahiru's hair. "Sir Stärke was a knight and one of the best from his kingdom, when he left, lots of people left with him, wanting to follow, and he wanted to prove himself, too. He was strong and courageous, but a bit of a knucklehead. Always ready for a fight, to defend his honor or someone else's. When he entered the forest, he was able to fight off the creatures, but was stumped at some of the riddles."
"The riddles?" Ahiru gave her a confused look though the mirror.
Pique nodded. "In the forest. It's no ordinary forest."
"Oh."
Ahiru furrowed her eyes, she didn't exactly like that description, it was cryptic and creepy, and she could tell Pique would give her nothing more if she asked. It made her more concerned about Uzura, whose one goal seemed to be to run into the forest, what if she got hurt?
"The House of Stäre tries it's best to keep up the morals and beliefs that Sir Stärke kept. To be strong and courageous, ready for battle but also ready lose and still be grateful. It's these principles that keep Stäke strong."
"Yes," Lillie agreed. "Full of happy-go-lucky knuckleheads."
"Hey!"
"But it is true!"
Pique opened her mouth to strike back, but shut it when she couldn't.
"What about Taktik?" Ahiru asked, turning her eyes to Lillie.
"Oh Taktik! A noble house indeed!"
"They're all crazy." Pique said simply. "Everything is a mess, you can't find anything!"
"I can! I can find anything! Everything has its place, just because you can't find it doesn't mean it's missing!"
"The House of Taktik carry one similarity, no matter how pure their blood is." Pique claimed. "Scatterbrained. But Lord Taktik was a very intelligent man, he was able to come up with strategies on the fly. But he was messy, too."
"But that's why we came here." Lillie smiled. "It's much cleaner here."
Pique pursed her lips. "The way it should be. That being said, Taktik could come up with a viable battle plan in less than ten minutes, and it's a valuable trait that his direct line still carries."
"We're not only war minded. We're inventors! Thinkers! We can think up a storm!"
"But that's so boring, besides you're not in his direct line, there's no way you're a thinker." Pique said, pinning a loop of hair to Ahiru's head. "'Just sitting around all the time."
"Thinking!"
Pique rolled her eyes. "But they are, they're the best thinkers in the kingdom, maybe the world."
"Thank you."
"Not you, the Nobles."
"What were the others?" Ahiru asked, looking between Lillie and Pique in the mirror.
"Vermittlung. The Lady slow to anger, the rational one." Pique rolled her eyes. "Rather unempathetic and most people went to her with their problems if they didn't think it was important enough to bother the royal family with. The family studies now to become great counselors. They're a bit nose-in-the-air, but not as bad as Verstand."
"But Stimmung is the worst house." Lillie interjected.
"What's wrong with Stimmung?" Ahiru asked.
"Stimmung was a big baby and he passed it down to all his descendants!" Pique said.
"They don't eat animals because they think it's mean." Lillie said.
"All they do is talk about ethics and then it makes them sad when they get too deep into it. I don't understand it, but some people like them." Pique shook her head. "Well, they're not all like that, but they try to follow the example Stimmung left behind in his diaries to best of their abilities."
Ahiru smiled. "I don't think they sound that bad."
Pique sighed, "Just wait until you meet one. There, all done. Would you like breakfast up here or in the nook?"
"Hmm. Well, we can continue our talk if I stay up here, right?"
Pique smirked, "Exactly! Rue always wanted to go down to breakfast. I'll go fetch it, Lillie tell her about Verstand."
Lillie smiled and nodded. "The Duke Verstand was known as the Duke of Knowledge, and he liked to only be referred by that title. Being born into that house, no matter how intelligent one is, gives them a superiority complex, and no one likes them except themselves. They care about one thing, the one thing Verstand cared about: knowledge. Although I think some of them only care about looking smart. Know-it-alls, the lot of them, and they'll rub it in your face. If you don't know one little thing, it's all they talk about, it's to make you feel dumb, but if you ask them they're simply educating you."
Ahiru nodded.
"The past few years they've been rather resigned, however."
"Why?"
Lillie looked up at her, the expression she had on her face, once light and teasing, turned dark. "Twenty-one years ago, the Duke of Verstand, Mendelsshon Felix, had a son about a month old, but it grew sick. And at two months, the baby died. The Duchess died of heartbreak, and the Duke has never been the same. The house mourned for an appropriate time, but the death of a baby is still the death of a baby." Lillie looked around, "But, some people think the real reason the Duke is upset is because of a certain rumor."
Ahiru tilted her head, she looked around the room too, as if she'd catch a Bookman standing in the corner, "What rumor?"
"That his son never died, but was stolen away." She leaned in closer. "That he was only tricked to believe his son passed."
Lillie pulled away and Ahiru could only look at her in shock. So Lillie knew to? "Who- who would do such a thing?"
"Someone who wants more than what they have." And suddenly, as if someone had turned on a switch, Lillie grinned from ear to ear. "But isn't that a wild tale? Like a Grimm's story."
"O-oh, right. Yes. Just a Grimm's Tale." She said, but she was shaken nonetheless. She couldn't help but remembered what the Bookmen said in the hall...
Pique came back then and they ate, Pique went on about the house of Stimmung, how boring they were, a bunch of babies that made flower crowns for each other and then cried when they got the gift.
Ahiru thought it would be nice, to belong to a house, and she thought she would belong to a house like Stimmung.
They gossiped some more, Pique telling the two of them that the Duke Raven had set up a meeting with the Bookmen, probably to get them to disband the wedding of Mytho and Rue.
It made her sad, thinking about all that wasted effort, the fight Mytho and Autor had to endure.
There was a knock at the door and Pique and Lillie were lightly chided for talking with the Princess instead of doing their chores and the chief maid apologized profusely to Ahiru.
She tried to excuse them, saying they were keeping her company but she was dismissed.
Once they left, there was a quiet, an uneasiness that filled the air.
She almost wished for them back.
This was the first day that was completely up to her.
There were no festivities or tests or weddings or duels, and her day's activities were up to her, whatever she chose to do.
She decided to wander around the palace.
It was strange that she never did, although the past few weeks had been packed with activity and any free time she had was given to Miss. Edel to further her studies, but now she was free to walk the halls.
She had noted before that the palace here was much larger than the castle in Arnis, a small manor by the sea.
Four stories in total, she had counted, with the first floor having a ceiling that was twice as tall as it needed to be to accommodate the large, stately portraits of each King and Queen, and the ballroom with its arching glass windows and balcony that wrapped around the room and the painting of the Sun and Moon.
Not to mention the library.
It wasn't a place she visited much, and she decided she would today. It was as large as the ballroom, just as wide, just as tall, with its own balcony to reach the higher shelves. She had never seen so many books in her life, and while she only read a couple, it felt right to be here.
The first shelf she reach was held fast to the wall, the books cast in strong wood that would keep them safe.
"There's a larger one in the Verstand estate."
Ahiru flinched, and when she turned around to see Autor, she wasn't really sure what to do or say. So far, the conversations they carried were rude ones filled with biting remarks, mostly aimed at her.
She nodded, so as not to seem rude.
He came to stand beside her, running the tips of his fingers over the spine of the book that she had previously admired.
"Do you read at all?" He tilted his head, not even looking at her, but at the book he cradled in his hand. "Can you read?"
She clenched her fist, but bit her tongue. "The library in Arnis is not as vast as this, but I have read quite a few books in my time."
He hummed, slipping the book out of its place, the one next to it toppling over without the support. "Reading is one of the only activities I enjoy. Outside of playing the piano."
"You play the piano?" She winced, she hadn't meant to carry the conversation, but here she was, getting to know him better.
"Yes. I do. The Duke of Verstand taught me when I was young. But he also let me read the books in his library."
She nodded. "What was your favorite?"
He smirked. "I've never had a favorite."
"What?"
"How can I? There are too many to choose from. And how do I choose? Based on story? Style, diction, fiction or nonfiction, history or present? Based on the characters? How clever they are, or how beautiful, if they can use their mind or if it's their mind from which they have to escape? No." He said, returning the book to it's slot, fixing the fallen. "I have too many favorites."
"I always liked the Little Mermaid."
"Of course you do. Coming from a town as small as yours, I'd expect nothing less."
She resisted the urge to shrug, and smiled at him instead. "Forgive me, then, for not coming from a place of grandeur."
His eyes landed on her for a moment, but were gone the next, and instead he walked down the aisle of books, following the wall, and like a fool, she followed after him.
"You cannot help where you're born, who you're born to."
He was strange, talking to her so frankly all of a sudden.
"No, you can't." She agreed.
"Given the chance, I'd-" but he cut himself short, he gave a sigh and shook his head. "But I don't have the chance."
"The chance to what?" She asked, genuinely intrigued by him. He was still harsh, but she couldn't help but wonder if that rudeness he showed her was just a part of his character, not to single her out.
She could almost forgive him for his character.
"What do you know about the house of Verastand?"
She shook her head. "Not much."
"Well, the house of Verstand is a noble house, filled with people smarter than anyone I have ever met." His eyes grew distant, there was a great admiration there, and she couldn't help but wonder… why? "They're explorers, scientists, writers, so often they go out into the world in the pursuit of knowledge, and they always come back filled to the brim with insight. Given the chance…"
"You would like to go?" She ventured, "Out into a world you don't understand and learn something completely new? And bring it back here? For us to learn?"
He looked to her, he turned his body and met her eyes full on with a stare of such intensity, she felt like she was hit with a bolt of lightning.
"Yes."
She continued to follow him around the library, he didn't speak, and she didn't dare cut the silence, instead, she watched the expressions on his face change.
Autor was an interesting person in that she couldn't tell who he truly was.
At first glance, he appeared rude and snobbish, but now he seemed…
Broken.
The shell of a man forced to turn away from his passions, but a man willing, nonetheless.
He stood tall, taking careful steps, lightly perusing the spines, and Ahiru had the aching suspicion that he knew what was written on the pages of all of them.
She tried to follow his example, a straight back, arms held still, measured steps, the toe of her shoe pushing at the edge of the dress so as not to trip herself.
"If you are to be my wife," He said, breaking the silence, but he paused, as if the words got caught in his throat. Like a fish caught in the netting, half free, half dead, not resigned to his fate.
"If I am to be your wife." She said softly, and even as the words fell past her own lips, they felt strange, and forgein.
He nodded. "I expect you to have an extensive knowledge of literature. A good reading history, and a talent for weeding through what is good and what is bad."
"Isn't what is good and what is bad a matter of opinion?" She was trapped, caught in the thin twine of the net, half free, half-
"Not what you like or dislike, but what is good, well written, and what is bad, poorly stated. I don't like every good book I read, but I still cherish them. They still carve the path."
Ahiru smiled, there was passion in his eyes, like a storm brewing, "What books are good then? If I am to be your wife, I should read them."
He turned to look at her, his eyes rolling up and down her body, as if he had forgotten it was her who stood there, and not someone else. Half caught. "I'll have a list compiled for you. You won't be able to read them all before we're wed, you may not be able to finish one."
She gritted her teeth, "I can read, I'm not a foolish little-"
"A foolish little what?" He asked, leaning in, suffocating her, taking her air. "Peasant?" He stood straight, away from her and starting his pace again, and she followed, picking up her skirts to keep up with him. "No, you're a Princess, born and raised, surrounded by luxury, spending her time reading and dancing, her hands have never worked, have never strained."
"Right."
"A Princess who's studied Shakespeare, the great works, art and all it's prestige. Not a peasant who spent her childhood out in the sun, burning her skin, working her hands, getting dirty and sweaty. No." He paused and turned on her, the motion so quick that she almost fell, almost bumped into his chest. "I don't know what kind of family you came from, but perhaps your kingdom should hold higher standards for their royalty."
Her heart was pounding, but all she could do was give him a hearty glare. "And? So what if I sat out in the sun? So what if I didn't just idly sit by while others did work, just because I was born a Princess doesn't mean I'll abuse my position. Maybe Bavaria should get higher standards for how their royalty treats their people." She lifted her skirts and left the library, running as soon as the doors closed behind her.
She was getting better, she thought, at being a Princess although nothing was as ingrained in her as it had been in Rue.
She slowed to walk along the palace halls with her shoulders back and her neck long and she felt like a Princess, even if she wasn't truly one.
Crown Princess now, she reminded herself.
Even worse.
One day…
She would be Queen.
That made her pause. At the start, she was okay with being just a Prince's bride, with no real power, no authority, just to show up every once in a while, stand silently by her husband's side and smile.
She wasn't sure she could handle being a Queen.
She leaned against the windowsill her back pressed against the pane, and it was freezing against her shoulders, but it calmed the racing of her heart.
Not his Queen.
What did it matter? What books were good or bad, if she wasn't pale, if her hands were worn.
But it depended, it depended on the verdict the Bookman and the Duke Raven came to, and that she wouldn't know until the end of the day.
Her heart slowed, finally, and as she looked back down the hall from which she came, she wondered.
Half free, half caught.
Did she have time to get out?
She closed her eyes and felt the tears start to sting her eyes, which wasn't fair, she didn't plan on crying today. She wiped at her eyes with her arm, sliding down the wall until she sat. It was for the best, she thought, for Rue and Mytho, so that they could be happy, but what about Autor?
Would she make him happy?
He didn't think she was a proper Princess, he would always look down on her.
It was a quiet day, wherever she was, no one else occupied the same space, the wind blew outside and she heard every leaf that swayed, every branch that bent, so it frightened her when she heard the faint sound of music.
It was mechanical sounding, not an instrument, pure and sweet, but almost like the twinge of metal. It was beautiful, and lulling.
She stood slowly, wanting more than anything to see what was making that sound and chased after it.
Louder and louder it became, leading her down hallways she had never traversed, past doors she had never entered and windows she had never looked out of, and just as she was sure she had found it, it stopped.
"Oh." She said, rather disappointed. She stood in front of a tall tapestry, brushing the ceiling, spreading out farther than she could spread her arms, it was a deep green, like the pine needles in the forest, there was a thousand details, made of shades of green and blue, lavender and peach, soft reds and deep oranges. There were goblins and beasts, white deer and salamanders, rivers that parted the trees, and sunlight that bled into the meadows and greens. At the very top, there was a castle, and it shined, the thread golden and bronze, and surrounding it was a silver wall.
And then, above all that was the sun and moon, a brighter gold, somehow, than the castle. She smiled upon the castle and forest, as if it was all hers to love and care for, the moon next to her, made with a thread of pure white, he cradled the sun, holding her up and guarding her, protecting her from all that lurked in the forest, even if her love touched all edges of the tapestry.
As Ahiru admired the careful work, the soft sound of music picked up again, coming from behind the tapestry.
"But, how-?" She tilted her head and raised her hand to press against the wall that was behind the tapestry, but when she did she almost fell, for the tapestry did not cover a stone wall, but a hallway.
She rushed to the edge of the hung masterpiece and pulled at it's side and walked behind it until she came to the empty hallway. It was cold, colder than anywhere else in the palace, but not dark. Ahiru looked at her feet, a small lantern sat by her feet, waiting to be picked up and used.
It was already lit, ready for her to take.
She licked her lips and swallowed, the music drawing her down the pathway, and so focused on the music was she, that she did not hear the tapestry move behind her, or the careful steps that followed her.
Ahiru walked until the music stopped, but even so, she was not left in silence, there was the sound of muffled voices bickering.
"-we cannot move forward with this!"
"It is our law! If we do not follow our own laws, the people will have us thrown out."
"There is no way the people will follow him now, not when he has lost to his younger brother!"
"Why would you say that? Everyone knows the Prince is a master of the sword, very few can beat him."
"What does that matter? The King needs to be the best! If he is not the best, who will follow him? Not when there is someone stronger!"
Someone pounded a table with their fist, and it made Ahiru jump. "Strength is not all there is to being King!"
"But a kingdom needs the protection of a strong King, only he who is strong enough can rule! Who will the forest choose? A strong man, or one who is weak?"
"He returns."
The room was quiet and a large door opened, careful clicks reached her ears, the clicks of boots hitting the tilted floor, the door shut. It was too quiet again.
"Has a verdict been reached?"
A chill ran up her spine. The Duke Raven.
She inched closer, her hand pressed to the wall in front of her.
"No, no verdict has been-"
"Let me make this clear, gentlemen. The Princess Kreahe is not some woman you can marry off to whomever you choose. She is the heir to the throne, she was sent here to enter a prestigious marriage. Now, I understand that there are some rumors." He paused, and the air grew colder. "About a tragedy that passed a few decades ago. A sick infant. A child thrown out into the snow. Can anyone confirm that these rumors are true?"
No one spoke, and she wondered what they were scared of. Fifty men against one? But when he spoke again, she was put back in her place.
"Well then, where is he?"
"Dead." One said with a vicious snarl.
"The rumors are this!" The Raven hissed, and Ahiru flinched away, as if it was her who was face to face with the Duke. "That he survived! That he is out there, planning to overthrow your silly little monarchy. If that is true, tell me now."
There was silence again and she leaned against the wall, hoping to catch a murmur.
"And what is your plan to deal with him."
Her ears tuned in, but there was nothing to be heard.
The Raven laughed, "Nothing? How long have you had to plot? To prepare for this? Twenty years? Pitiful. Kill him."
"We cannot."
"Oh, and what will happen?" In the silence, she could hear his footsteps fall, turning on whoever spoke out of turn. "You can kill a baby but not a grown man?"
"Half the kingdom and Nobility support him, doing so would spark a rebellion!"
"And you don't think he will?"
"No, he's smarter than that." The bookman said, begrudgingly. "He's waiting for the Königsspiel."
"Oh right, you're silly game. And do you actually think he can win?"
Ahiru swallowed.
The Raven laughed cruelly. "Autor doesn't stand a chance! How pitiful."
"You will address our royalty with his correct title!"
"Oh? And what title is that? Duke Autor? Or even lower? Marques Autor? Earl? Viscount? Stop me when I've reached it! Baron?"
"Stop this mockery!"
"You are a mockery to me. At least in my kingdom I can safely say that the Princess Kraehe is her mother's daughter, and not robbed from the crib."
"Your presence here today, is to decide if the marriage between the Prince and Princess is within reason."
"I say it is not. A Queen sent to marry a Prince? You mock me."
"Your borders will still widen, your war will not have been for naught."
"Who is the true King? I don't think I will even allow her marriage to Baron Autor at this point."
"The Crown Prince Autor is the true-"
"Will he be? You've said it yourself countless times, only the King can win the Königsspiel. Who is he to hold the honor?"
"Anyone can run and win the title, even someone as lowly as a farmer."
"Ah, but will the farmer? No. No, two will run the Königsspiel and Princess Kreahe will marry the winner."
There was a knock at the door.
"The Princess Kreahe wishes for a private audience with the Duke Raven."
The door opened and Ahiru heard the high heeled steps of a Princess enter the room.
"Well? Get out." The Raven dismissed them coldly.
Their march was slow, but steady, and it wasn't until the door closed again, that Rue spoke.
"Raven."
"My Princess."
"The fuss you make over my marriage will not resolve itself with your petty bickering."
"Ah, but Princess you are to marry the finest."
"And the finest here is Mytho, you cannot stop me, and I will not go away until you agree." There was a wooden creak, Rue had sat down.
"But, think of the-"
"I am thinking of my kingdom. My Kingdom. Not yours, you have always put yourself first. My marriage will end the war, it will open up our borders and give us every advantage."
"But our borders will not have grown."
"You think I care how large my kingdom is? No, you are mistaken. When my father dies, and it will be soon, it will not matter the size of our borders, the war will end and I will have to make amends to all we have tortured. My marriage to the Prince of Bavaria is the first step to asking for forgiveness, think of it. Bavaria, the trading gate to all of our country, and I have the key to it. Every state will come to terms with our settling down, and there will be peace again. We can even become a mining state again instead of hoarding it all for ourselves."
"Very noble of you, but-"
"Did my father even send you here?" Her chair creaked and she stood. "Or did you hear and come running as fast as you could?"
"I only obey commands from your-"
"My father, as I last remember, is lying sick in bed, swathed in sheets like a child, he barely has the energy to lift a finger. Tell me, Raven why have you come."
"Abandon this place! Come with me, accept my hand in marriage and you and I can rule just as your father intended."
"I just told you my plan was to stop his war! Why would I marry you just so you can continue the death? The chaos? No, no as soon as I am crowned Queen, with Mytho by my side as King, you will lose your title and be nothing more than a-"
There was a sharp crack.
"Ru-" Ahiru slapped a hand over her mouth.
"Use your words, Your Grace." Rue said coldly. "Or have you forgotten how to?"
"You will not talk to me in such a way!"
"I will speak to you however I wish to speak to you! You have no right to lay a hand on me! To tell me to do anything! My sister gave up her crown when she married Ansell, leaving me to take the responsibility of the throne! My father wasted away his life on a bloody battle field in filthy greed, and now lies dying. I am responsible for the Kingdom, I will marry Mytho, and I will be crowned Queen, but I already am one."
"Go Rue!" Ahiru whispered to herself.
"You are abandoning your father's dream-"
"I am setting everyone free, I am abandoning my father's dream, and it is a good thing, my father was a tyrant and a wicked man and I pray he rots! I pray for your downfall, and I will see it happen, better yet, I will be the one to push you."
"I have been nothing-"
"But a pain? Yes, I agree."
"An aid to your father! His acolyte! And you would dismiss me like that?"
"My father was evil, I'm sure his acolyte is not any better. The duel is valid, even in Rothenburg, such a duel would be respected. Do not disrespect this place with your foul temper and greed."
Rue walked away, towards the door, and they swung open.
"Gentlemen," She said. "You are welcome to come back in to go over the final details of my wedding."
"So it's final?" Someone asked, someone young.
"I will marry the second Prince, and I will return to Rothenburg-"
"After the Königsspiel?"
"Yes. And when will that be?"
There was a murmur, but no one was close enough to where Ahiru stood for her to over hear.
"Let us give Autor one month to recover from this… Loss. December Twenty-fifth, he and the Princess Odette will be wed and in the afternoon he will run."
"Raven," Rue said coldly, "Will you stay even after my wedding? To watch the Königsspiel?"
"No, I will leave after your marriage, I will watch over the Kingdom until your return."
"Very well, any action you take will be reported to me and if I find it reprehensible, I will be returning, with or without my husband."
"I will be on my best behavior." Raven said, and Ahiru could see it in her mind, the corners of his mouth twisting into a wicked grin.
"You shall, or it will be your last course of action."
Raven walked out the doors slammed shut behind him and Rue was left alone with the Bookmen.
"So, my wedding shall be the second, correct?"
"Yes."
"What needs to be done?"
A Bookmen started listing menial tasks, but she cut him off.
"Then get them done. Are you listening? Go!"
They were dismissed, but a few stayed behind.
"Your Majesty."
"Yes?" Rue said.
"You must understand how sudden this all is? Surely, most won't believe you and the Prince are truly in love."
"What does that matter? Mytho won the duel-"
"Mytho didn't win. Autor kneeled."
"And what is the difference?" There was a slow clacking on the floor, Rue taking circles around the old man.
"It means, that some may not trust your word."
"My word? And what is my word?"
He cleared his throat. "The word of a Rottenburg."
She gave a sharp laugh. "Stooping so low as to throw schoolyard taunts?"
"It is what the people have called you."
"If they despise me so much, it will be a relief that I am not their Queen. It is better that Ahir- I mean, Princess Odette is Queen, she is kind and has a good heart. She will balance Autor's… coarser side."
"True, however some may think that you are taking that sweet young boy away from his home."
"Mytho is hardly a sweet young boy, sir. Young to you, perhaps, but hardly a child."
"One day he will see your rough language and-"
"My rough language?"
"How you threatened the Duke."
She was quiet. "There is a harshness one needs to develop when dealing with scavengers. For my kingdom, Mytho will be necessary, a kindness, a light, hope in the midst of battle. He will help put an end to the tragedy that has surrounded my state since I can remember."
"So, is that what he is for? Not love, but a way to end the travesty?"
"My, you are critical. My marriage is one for politics, after all, I have resigned myself to that fact." She paused, a moment of interreflection. "No, I love Mytho, he- he is the only person that has treated me as more than just the Princess of a warring people, as a person used for political advantage, but as a person." Her words were dripping with joy, the smile in her voice almost too loud. "He is the only person I think I could ever truly love. You are wrong to think I'm using him, when I love him. I love him without a second thought, without thinking." She gave a shaky laugh. "It is more than I can expect you to understand."
"I have a wife."
"I know! And where is she! Where is her smile? Do you care for her joy?"
"Our marriage was-"
"Not one of love. What Mytho and I have; he owns my heart."
"Hmm. Well, then, I will not stop your happiness." He spit out his words, as if he did not believe them, as if they were poison that he caught just in time before he swallowed. "Come, let us resign for lunch."
"Of course."
The doors closed, and that was it.
So, she would have to marry Autor, she would be a Queen.
Ahiru leaned her head against the cool wall, and her shoulders shook, the lantern slipped from her fingers, the glass broke and the light went out.
She turned to lean against the wall before allowing her back to crawl down the stones to the floor.
She hit the floor harder than she wanted to.
"Ow." She said, sniffling, she hit her head against the wall.
Why did it hurt so bad?
She wasn't in love with Autor.
And she didn't…
"He owns my heart." Rue had said.
No, he had never owned Ahiru's heart, he never even held it, never even came near it, all it had ever been was a dull aching in his hand.
She loved him, she knew that for sure, but not as truly as Rue loved Mytho, and now she'd never have a chance.
Autor would be her husband, forever and always, he would call her names, and diminish her worth, and would never get along with her, much less like her.
It had all been so easy to do when the future was for Mytho and Rue, but now looking at her own, she had ruined everything.
It was what they deserved, she thought, to be happy, to have each other, but now she would be chained to Autor's side until she died.
She would be miserable.
Her jaw shook, and her shoulders wouldn't hold still.
She let them fall, if only for a moment, in this dark hallway, blind to everything and nothing all at once, where no one would see her, she gave herself this moment to let her heart be bare and open.
But she couldn't stay like this, it wasn't fair, how could she wallow in self pity?
She had an entire kingdom to think about. The people, the Nobles, Pique and Lillie, Edel, Rue and Mytho, and…
She'd have to tell Fakir she was marrying Autor.
He would know what to do, he would tell her to stop being stupid. She let a wet laugh escape from her lips. He would tell her it was an honor to be the Queen, that she just had to look at it in a different light, she wasn't giving her life away, she was giving her life to serve the people.
It was noble, when she thought about it like that.
But, still…
Why did it have to be Autor?
She heaved a sigh of remorse and stood slowly.
"Now, how to get out of here?" She nudged next to her, where the lantern fell, careful to make sure she didn't step into it.
She was alone.
She should have been alone.
The entire floor before she walked behind the tapestry had been absent of people.
No one had seen her, and yet.
She made to step around the lantern, but before she even put her foot down, there was the sound of breaking glass.
"Shit."
"Who's there!"
There was a hand at her elbow, and a second placed over her mouth.
"Shh!"
She screamed behind the hand and bit down as hard as she could.
Whoever held her screamed but didn't move, and started leading her away from where she came from.
This was it, the end for her, she had been found by a Bookman spying on the other Bookman and she'd be exiled or executed for her impertinence and that would be the end for her. She hoped her tears landed in his hand, so whoever it was knew how scared and hurt she was.
There was a creak, and suddenly light filled her vision and she was blinded.
She was pushed away from her captor and she caught herself on the railing of a balcony.
She spun around to see how it was, so she could at least look her captor in the eye, but instead only found-
"Ahiru, you didn't have to bite me."
Tears welled in her eyes. "Fakir." She threw her arms around him, burying her head into his chest, her heart still pounding. "Fakir, I was so scared."
"I- I'm sorry." He said, his arms slowly, and uncertainly encircling her. "I didn't mean to."
She pulled away just as he put his hand on her head. "I bit you! I'm so sorry." She took a step back and took his hand in her own. "Oh, we should get this cleaned and wrapped up." Ahiru began to walk away, but found herself trapped on the balcony. "Oh."
"We have to go back inside the tunnel." He said.
Her eyes looked back at the door, which now that it was closed, looked only like a section of the wall.
He pushed on the brick and it opened.
"What is it?" She asked, looking inside warily.
Fakir offered her his hand, they didn't have a light, they would have to stick together. "It's a system of secret tunnels that run through the castle." Once inside, he shut the door behind them, and her grip on his unbiten hand grew tighter. "This way."
She was pulled along behind him, following his every twist and turn, bumping into him on occasion.
"So they're all over the castle?"
"Yes, one in every room, although some are harder to get to than others."
"What do you mean?"
"The one here, that you spied on the Bookmen with-"
"You were spying too!"
She couldn't see it in the dark, but he smiled, as if he had been caught. "We spied on them, it's larger, the hallway allows multiple people to be audience. But other rooms, take the King's bedroom for example, the hallway gets increasingly smaller until it is just a crawlspace. Not even I can fit in there any longer."
"What's it all for?"
"The King, anyone he chooses to show it to. It's a way so that no one can keep secrets from him."
"Like that meeting?"
"Yes, the Bookmen's meetings are not for my- the King's ears, but, if the King thinks someone is untrustworthy, he can listen, and later have a private discussion with him."
"Do the Bookmen know about it?"
"They know about the hallways, but not where they are, or how to get into them."
Ahiru tilted her head. "How do you know."
"My guardian, Charon, when he was younger, he was friends with the King and Queen, they told him about all the castle secrets, and he shared them with me. My question is," He stopped, his hand batting in front of himself, fabric moved and light spilled onto the floor, he pulled her out of the darkness and into the light. "How did you find it?"
Ahiru smiled, her hand running against the delicate tapestry again. "I heard this music, and I followed it."
"It lead you here?"
"Yes, but it stopped when I was by that meeting room. I didn't see anyone, did you?"
He shook his head. "No, I didn't."
"So, you heard everything?"
"Yes."
Her eyes traveled to the floor, she lifted her arm and rubbed the other. "So you know then."
"Yes, I'm sorry." He lifted his hand, placing it on her shoulder.
"Don't be." She rubbed her eyes, she was crying again. "I chose this. Besides, I need to fix your hand."
She looked up at him, expecting him to agree, or say something. Anything. But he didn't, he gazed down at her with sorrow in his eyes.
"C'mon." She lead him back to her room, she was quiet on the way back, contemplative, but Fakir didn't seem to be in the talking mood either.
"Here." She said once they entered. "Pique? Lillie?" She called. "Edel?"
But there was no reply, her room was empty.
"Okay good, sit down at my vanity." She said, pointing to the stool.
She went to her bed and knelt down, pushing at what she brought with her until she pulled out a plain, blue box.
She came to Fakir, and sat on a chair next to him.
"May I have your hand?" She asked, her own outstretched, ready to receive his. Gently, he placed his bitten hand in her palm. She winced. "I'm sorry."
"At least I can rest easy knowing that you're not completely defenseless."
She put the box on her lap and opened the lid, revealing medical supplies she had made sure to take with her.
"Why do you have this?"
She shrugged. "I get hurt a lot. My da- I mean, yeah my dad, he put this together for me after I scraped my knee for the fifth time in a week. I make sure it gets refilled. Here."
She started cleaning and dressing his wound, his hand large in her own, their were calluses on his palm, just before his fingers jutted out, and she didn't stop herself from flitting over them.
"From sword fighting." He spoke softly, "Blacksmithing and work." She looked up at him, and somehow his face was closer to hers than she remembered. "They're not the hands of a prince, nor a king."
"But they're your hands." Her eyes shot back down to his hand, sitting on her lap, with only her own hand and the layers of her dress separating his hand from her- she blushed. There was no business thinking like that. "It's silly, isn't it? That a King's hands should be soft? A King's hands should be weathered and well-worked, he shouldn't just spend his days sitting on his throne, but helping others. His people."
"What else do you think? About what a King should be?"
She snuck a glance at him but found it impossible to do so when his very own eyes were transfixed on hers. "I-I don't know, but I think a King shouldn't be sitting away in a marble tower-"
"Ivory."
"Right." She looked up at him. "Ivory. An ivory tower."
"And a Queen? What should she be doing?"
Her hands were careful in the wrapping of his, the tips of her fingers brushing against his fingers, his thumb, carefully holding his wrist.
"A Queen should-"
His knuckles, rather boldly, brushed against the satin of her skirt.
"She should stand by her husband, but more than that she should be-"
"Be what?"
She tied a quick, messy knot on the white wrapping and looked up into his eyes, her hands never letting go of his. "She should be kind, she should be there for her people, and put them first, always."
"Even when she's in pain? Or filled with sorrow?"
"If it's necessary." Ahiru nodded.
"So a Queen should burn herself alive if to keep the freezing people alive for a few more hours while the King simply dirties his hands?"
His other hand came, the tips of his fingers brushing the hair that fell into her face behind her ear, the one in her lap growing braver, and she could feel his hand against her thigh.
"That hardly seems fair."
"What would you have her do, then?" Her own hands traveling up his wrist. "Sit on her throne, looking pretty?"
"You don't have to sit on a throne to look pretty."
"Oh." She tilted her head, her eyes closing and there was a knock at the door.
"Ahiru?"
Ahiru let out a strangled scream and stood, knocking her chair behind her.
Fakir stood beside her, blushing a bright red.
The door opened and Miss. Edel stepped in, she gave them a small glare.
Fakir bowed to Ahiru. "Thank you, my Princess. I will take my leave."
He marched out of the room, only giving Edel a small, acknowledging nod.
Ahiru put her hand on her heart, what had she been doing?
Flashes of his eyes, the phantom touches of his hand on hers, on her thigh, in her hair, consumed her and she sat on her vanity chair.
Miss. Edel closed the door behind her, "Well, I'm sure you've heard the news by now."
Ahiru nodded, she swallowed but her mouth was dry.
"Then we must prepare you to become Queen."
FAKIR CLOSED THE DOOR behind him and leaned against the wall just outside of her room.
He fell to the floor, clutching his head, what was he thinking?
She's betrothed, he can't just-
The memory of her hand touching his, her fingers gentle and soft as they brushed over his, the feeling of her knee pressed to his, the satin under his fingers, her hair soft.
He groaned and felt his face burn.
The freckles on her nose, her lips a soft pink, her cheeks rosey and her eyes bluer than a clear sky. How would he survive?
"Fakir, you okay?"
He wasn't sure who it was, but he told them to go away in a gruff voice, probably gruffer than he meant it to be.
This wouldn't stop him.
The color of her eyes didn't mean he had to stop pursuing the crown, it didn't mean he couldn't run the race, he would just have to be more careful.
On the day of her wedding to Autor, he would run the Königsspiel and he would win, whatever happened to her after was no concern of his.
Fakir stood, and made to walk away, but looked down at his hand, the careful wrapping, delicately placed; small hands, with slim fingers, covered in freckles.
No, no concern of his at all.