"I will take the child," said Hyacinth.
"What?" the swollen-eyed queen pressed her daughter, still swaddled in the lace-edged christening blankets, close to her chest. "What purpose can that serve? You have already told us that your magic will do nothing to prevent the curse."
Hyacinth paused, thinking through how best to explain it to this pair of distraught parents. Away from the guests, whom had been sent forcefully out of the palace after Melanthe's disappearance, her old friends were no longer the king and queen of Dalthian. Now they were nothing but a mother and father who could not prevent the loss of their own daughter, despite how much power they had in their grasp.
She placed a cool, comforting hand on the queen's shoulder. "Elvia, please understand me. No magic is strong enough to undo what Melanthe has done. However, the best we can hope to do is avoid it by mundane means. By hiding the princess away, by making her a simple girl, and not a princess, she may be able to escape her fate. Such precedents have been set in the past."
Queen Elvia swallowed the sob rising in her throat. "You would take her away from us then? Our child, who we are doomed to have such a short time with as it is, you would take her away from us now?"
Hyacinth was struggling to remain composed herself, and she prevented her voice from trembling only with great effort. "It is in the hope of giving her many more years of life ahead of her, so that she might one day become Queen."
There was a shouting coming from outside, deep and vehement. The women gathered together at the window, and Elvia watched her husband, King Rafe, stride around the courtyard, barking orders at servants and men-at-arms. They could not make out his words, but he pointed at a tall, tottering tower in the middle of everything, directing his subjects to drop what they were carrying onto it.
It was a growing heap of spinning wheels, of all designs, colors, and sizes, piled together as kindling. The royal soldiers had ridden all around the kingdom with wagons, and dutiful citizens had dumped their spinning wheels into them gladly. Many of them had been at the naming ceremony themselves, and had seen Melanthe's wicked deed firsthand, and were more than happy to try and outwit her this way. Some had already burned their spinning wheels as soon as they heard the news. For those who had not, the king was going to do it for them.
All that Hyacinth could see in the great mass of spinning wheels were the deadly, needle-sharp spindles. They taunted her, and Melanthe's voice rang in her ears. She turned away from the window and walked to the other side of the room, hand over her face.
"I'm sorry, Elvia. I should have foreseen this," she whispered.
The queen did not leave her place by the window, her eyes fixed on where the bonfire was to be. The spindles held the same terror for her as they did for Hyacinth, but she did not see her failure reflected in them as her fairy companion did. "You are sure there is no other chance of saving her? A way where I might get to keep her?" The lines on her face were deepened with worry.
"No methods by which you might keep her. And this is the safest and most reliable." Hyacinth wrapped her arms around herself, unable to look at her childhood friend. She was more cognizant than ever of the unborn child she was carrying, and she knew if anyone tried to take it from her, even for safekeeping, it would be unbearable. Doing so to the person she loved best was almost as hard.
Oil was being dumped by the bucketful onto the spinning wheels, and the king had a torch in his right hand. Elvia knew he was doing all he could to keep their daughter safe, just as Hyacinth was. "I suppose I am being selfish, aren't I?" She glanced back at Hyacinth, and was struck by how her eyes were shiny with tears as she stared at the floor.
"I sought to prevent this from happening," Hyacinth said in reply, ignoring Elvia's question. Her hands returned to their place of comfort, splayed peacefully across her pregnant stomach. "I'm sorry it wasn't enough."
Elvia continued to watch her friend. "We grew up together, and since then you have always been my protectoress, although I never asked for it. You stopped the witch from killing my daughter outright, and you wish to continue shielding her from harm." There was a quick glance down at the soft blonde head on her shoulder. "There is nothing to be sorry for. I do not know how we could have made it through this ordeal without you."
"Thank you." Hyacinth paused as she thought over her next words. "I promise to raise Linnaea to the best of my ability. I have stood by you as you rule beside your husband, and I will teach her to be a queen from what you have taught me. As soon as she has reached her seventeenth birthday safely, I will return her here to you."
"No! Please, Hyacinth. You must sneak her in at least a few days before. Just so I can see her—in case—what if…I at least want to see the woman she grows into, in case you—"
"I will not fail again!" Hyacinth blazed, the first spark of life she had shown since Melanthe escaped. She softened then. "But I promise you that I will bring your daughter back to see you before her seventeenth birthday." Together they ignored the just in case that had been acknowledged there.
A long silence followed between the women, punctuated by more voices from the window, where Elvia returned her gaze. More and more spinning wheels were stacked higher and higher, and no other firewood was necessary. The last few were being added to the pile, from the wagons from the farthest reaches on the kingdom, brought here in greatest haste. Several knights were now bringing in barrels, hefted on their shoulders. They looked heavy, and they were dropped without care onto the spinning wheels. More oil.
"At least my daughter will get to grow up with your child, when it is born. Like us, although under astonishingly different circumstances." What Elvia did not remark upon was the strangeness of the fairy's sudden pregnancy, how a mere three months after Linnaea's conception, Hyacinth had returned from a diplomatic trip to another country with her own baby quickening in her belly. Hyacinth never mentioned how exactly this had transpired, as she had no lover that Elvia knew of, and Hyacinth was not the type of woman to have a one-time romp with a random man. However, the fairy remained silent on the matter of the coming child's conception, and Elvia knew better than to press her.
"My child…and it wasn't enough…." Hyacinth murmured to herself. There were deep, dark circles under her gray eyes.
"I will miss having you by my side, both as a fairy, an advisor, and just a companion. It will be difficult here without you."
Hyacinth chuckled dryly. "That is one thing you must not worry about. Melanthe will let us alone now, leaving us to run around like hens that have been cooped up with a wolf. The wolf does not even have to try to cause discord; its mere presence does the trick. As long as we are in fear of the curse, and until the curse is fulfilled or thwarted, she is content to wait and watch. Dalthian will be left with as much peace as it can be, circumstances being what they are."
Princess Linnaea began to fuss and squirm in Elvia's arms, and Elvia did her best to soothe her with shushing sounds and rocking her, but still the little red face was scrunched up in near cry. "Here, you take her for now. Practice for later." Hyacinth was at her side in a mere moment with her short, silent steps, arms open and waiting. She took Linnaea gingerly, as though she was more delicate than the finest porcelain, and not a strong, robust baby. To quiet the infant, she rocked her as Elvia had, but she also crooned a pretty lullaby under her breath, in a language Elvia did not understand.
"What is that you're singing?" she asked. She watched as her daughter calmed down and her face relaxed, showing signs of falling asleep. "Some sort of baby-sleep spell?"
"I wish there was such a thing, for I will soon have two crying babies to handle, and a spell like that would give me a great advantage over them. No, it's just an old song in ancient fairy language that no one knows anymore, not even us fairies." Hyacinth let her eyes wander around the room as she continued to murmur the forgotten words softly. As one of the side rooms of the palace, used as a breakroom between receiving subjects and visitors from other nations, it was less furnished than many of the grander rooms. Still, the red carpet was vibrant and lush, and the threadbare tapestries that were hung here to be out of the way depicted beautiful settings with lavish detail. Mahogany shelves housed dozens of large, dusty books, and even though Hyacinth rarely looked inside of the books, she knew that they were laws and histories of Dalthian, written in a scholar's cramped scrawl. Candles illuminated the entire room, held in candlesticks of polished bronze. The servants never missed a room. "I'm sorry the princess will not grow up with such splendor around her. Her life will be rougher than anything you could imagine, Elvia, but millions of your people survive it year after year, and Linnaea will know nothing different."
"Her surroundings are the least of my worries. I trust you will bring her up in a suitable fashion. How will I explain her absence to everyone?"
"You mustn't tell anyone that she is no longer in the palace. She has been locked away, hidden, and I am with her, and only you and Rafe may know the location."
Elvia smiled wryly, bitterly. "But in reality, we will know nothing of the sort."
Hyacinth shook her head, and strands of dark hair loosened themselves from her bun and fell in front of her face. She pushed them back in annoyance. "The fewer who know, the better. If Melanthe realizes that the princess has been taken away, her location will be of the utmost importance to her. Those who have this knowledge will be in danger."
The queen sighed. "You have defeated me absolutely. I'm not even upset anymore, at least not at you." The redness around her eyes was fading; she had stopped crying many minutes ago. "I suppose you would've taken such a hand in her upbringing anyway, that this makes little difference. Look at you two."
Hyacinth was leaning against the wall, looking down at the baby while listening to Elvia speak. Linnaea was still in her arms, completely asleep. The fairy tucked her blankets around her more closely.
Elvia sighed again, more heavily. She rested her elbows on the window sill, and cupped her chin in her hands moodily. "We'll say goodbye soon then, I assume." Outside, the preparations were finished, and everyone except for her husband stood far away from the spinning wheels in the center of the courtyard. Rafe now sat on his battle horse, a tall chestnut stallion, with a torch in his right hand. Holding the flame high, he nudged his horse toward the spinning wheels, and dropped the torch upon them with a sort of reverence. She squinted in order to watch her husband's lips move, and she knew he was muttering a prayer and a curse simultaneously. A prayer to the gods for their daughter's life, and a curse on Melanthe, even though he possessed no fairy powers and such a curse meant nothing. He urged the horse into a gallop, joining his soldiers on the outskirts of the courtyard, as the spinning wheels erupted into a massive inferno that crackled and blazed in the type of fury that only nature has. Rafe met Elvia's eyes then, noticing her at the window. He nodded at her, grim and businesslike, and she nodded back.
We are doing our part, and now we must allow Hyacinth to do hers, and let it all unfold, she thought. Our emotions do not factor into this any longer.
Through the clear pane glass of the window, the orange reflection of the fire flickered throughout the chamber, lighting up the stray tears and deep wrinkles on Elvia's face. The entire room seemed to glow. Even Hyacinth and Linnaea, in the corner of the room farthest from the window, appeared to be on fire as the image of flames danced across them, and the spinning wheels with their spindles continued to burn brightly through the night.
…..
The next morning, before the sun rose and the servants still slept, the king and queen and their court fairy stood in front of the palace, all three appearing mutually haggard and exhausted.
"At least take a horse with you," Rafe insisted. He stared at Hyacinth in concern, unbelieving of the burden she was about to take on.
"I cannot ride a horse easily in my condition, and carrying a baby in my arms as well as my stomach will make it all the more difficult. I do not want to waste magic lightly. Walking will suit us fine, until I have enough magic to teleport both Linnaea and I the rest of the way."
Elvia touched Hyacinth's elbow. "I thought your power was stronger and could restore itself more quickly now that…" She looked pointed at Hyacinth's abdomen, although it was masked in the dark cloak she wore, and the homespun dress draped her figure loosely. Hyacinth had always been partial to plain clothing, but those were nothing compared to her current peasant's costume. Fine, soft materials that nobles wore might only draw unwanted attention toward her, and it was nothing she wanted to risk while on the road.
"I am still tired from yesterday. It took more magic than you realize. Besides, teleporting mortals is a difficult skill, and a draining one," she said, averting her eyes. Even without sleep, her magic should have been restored to a level where she could execute normal spells with ease, even to teleport very far away with Linnaea. However, what the royal did not know was that Hyacinth had cast spells all throughout the night, reinforcing the protections that she had instated around the palace years ago. She would not have them fade with her absence.
"Goodbye, my daughter," Elvia said, kissing the top of Linnaea's head, then holding her out for her husband to do the same. Their eyes were remarkably dry, although Hyacinth knew their tears had been spent the night before. Elvia then gently placed Linnaea into Hyacinth's arms, trying her best to keep her face impassive.
Rafe clasped Hyacinth's shoulder familiarly. "Good luck. Let us know if you want for anything at all, for we will be sure to provide it."
"Oh, my friend!" Elvia exclaimed, throwing her arms around Hyacinth. Hyacinth managed to hold the baby with one arm, while with the other she embraced Elvia with just as much warmth. "I will miss you both so much."
"I will miss you both, as well," Hyacinth murmured. She let go of Elvia, and then Elvia relinquished her with reluctance. Without another word, she started down the long path to the palace gates. Elvia and Rafe had only each other to cling to now, as they watched their closest friend, with their only child, recede smaller and smaller into the distance.