I did not leave until I was certain Wyatt was asleep. I even considered, after some time, climbing into that bed after him, though I don't know what it would have changed. And for one brief moment I considered showing myself, as I was. But I knew that was a mistake.
I do not know what time it was when I finally left the palace and made my way back to Christine's home, but the world was fast sleep and over me hung that tapestry of stars, so unlike anything I had ever seen growing up in Tamenrook. Yes, I would have been very happy in this kingdom if my life had led me that way.
It wasn't just Wyatt, you must understand. It was everything. Sure, I could see all now, touch it all, go anywhere I pleased including the Spirit World of Heaven, but I still wasn't quite a part of it. And I didn't mind it. In a way the world was still absolutely mine. But in another way, no. And I missed that. I did not want to be angel. I wanted to be a living, breathing mortal with a life ahead of her. Perhaps it was silly to wish for such a thing. I had it all. I had Heaven. I could help people. But I could have helped people as a queen.
And to think I had spent so many years as this quiet, bashful girl. By the time I had gotten around to being me, I was dead. Was that the price I had to pay for coming out of my own shell? Losing everything for which I had worked so hard? Would it have been better if I had stayed hiding in corners, eating sweets and reading books about life? Would I have remained alive if I had never met Wyatt? It was hard to say. I didn't even know why I had been killed.
I found a hill outside Christine's home, and I rested there for awhile even though rest was probably not the best term for it. But it was a moment to myself. I had a lot of those, and I still liked him. Probably that shy little girl that still lurked inside. It was incredible. Nine years. Nine years had already passed. It did not seem that way. I should be thirty by now. With children and a husband.
Oh, well. I sighed, stood up, and made my back to the Christine's home. That was the way of things. I was dead and there was no changing that. Good thing I could still be practical.
Practical doing what? I still had no idea as to how I was supposed to help Christine. She was happy stealing things, no matter how miserable her life was. Yes, this was good. Turn my thoughts to my duty, to serving people. That was why I was here. To do good. To help Christine. I liked Christine, didn't I? Yes, yes, I did. Christine was a nice girl who deserved so much more than she was getting. Justice had not been served in her case. She deserved the house and Lady Melissa could survive on her first husband's wealth. Two husbands gone. It would not surprise me in the least degree if she were poisoning them or something. No, no, that was a cruel and unfair thought.
I reached the house. It was lovely. Would I have preferred a quieter life than to that of a princess? Maybe. If I weren't a servant. But Lady of the house would be a good title. Though since my death I had become significantly less proper than in my former princess life.
A princess changed to an angel. Or a fairy godmother, as Christine had put it. Was it a good or bad change? In many ways this afterlife was much more interesting than that of a princess. It just did not include Wyatt.
Maybe I could have him killed.
No, no. I laughed and shook the thought away. What was I becoming? At least it wasn't a serious thought. At least I hoped it wasn't a serious thought. But I was grinning, more than I had at all that night, so it could not have been too terribly severe a notion.
This Princess Marina, on the other hand, was an entirely different story altogether. Good thing Wyatt had said he was no longer courting her. I did not want him marrying anyone with a silly ocean name. What was she, a mermaid? I did not want to admit that my own name was just as bad if not more so.
The halls were empty and quiet. Somewhere in the house I could hear a clock ticking. If I waited for the chimes I would know the hour, but then again I really did not care what the hour was. What was I to do till morning? Read those dusty books? Dust them? Show them some care? It seemed that Christine was the only one in the house that read.
I was about to look for a feather duster (here I was, being reduced to a servant after all) when a bit of light came floating down the staircase. I stopped where I was and watched until the figure became more palpable. My first expectation was Christine, though I don't know why she would need to get up so late or so early.
It was not Christine. It was Grace, hair in braids and a cloak about her shoulders. Grace, Melissa's eldest daughter. Why? Shouldn't she be sleeping? Or was I once more being unfair?
Either way, I was of course curious. She did not need to be up. She was supposed to be in her bed being lazy. Any normal person was supposed to be in bed. I instinctively stepped from her path and followed her with my eyes. She headed to the front door. I realized she was not in a nightgown, but a riding dress.
But her feet were bareā¦
The problem was quickly solved. Outside the door, she stopped, reached into the bushes and fiddled for a moment before she drew out a pair of the most worn, hideous boots I had ever seen. Then she pulled a ribbon from her sleeve and slung it around her mess of braids.
"Grace," I whispered. "Where are you going?"
She did not hear me, but as if in answer she headed toward the stables, creeping like an overgrown mouse. How loud could she possibly be?
It was romantic. I was almost embarrassed that such a thought would pop into my head. But it was. Like a story. A girl sneaking out in the middle of the night. I watched from the doorstep as she reappeared horseback. Yes, like a story indeed. Was she off to kill herself, meet a forbidden lover, or rob someone? So many other possibilities besides.
My first instinct was
to follow. Maybe it was of concern to Christine. But then again,
they didn't seem to associate much so why would it be so? I
finally told myself that it was none of my business and that I had
best leave. Go dust shelves. Heavens, was I to do something so
mundane?
"That girl's a trickster, isn't she?"
I nearly screamed. That would have been something, a scream that could have possibly burst through my unseenness to awaken the house with a mysterious noise. I was supposed to be the spirit here. I was supposed to do the scaring if I felt like it.
But no one had told the man. He had appeared from nowhere, just under a tree before the house, smiling at me. He was an older man, at least fifty, with grey-streaked hair that was pulled deftly back behind his neck with a ribbon. His face was lined, but kind, with busy eyebrows that moved with his eyes. He wore a cloak, one that covered his entire body, though I could see the glimmer of shiny boots beneath it.
Another angel. It happened on occasion that we ran into each other. It had just been some time.
"Excuse me, sir," I said. "But I did not see you there."
He chuckled warmly. That was the best way to describe it. "The apology is mine, Princess Fawn. I should have known better. I startled you. I made the mistake of assuming you had seen me. Unless you had mistaken me for one of the living."
I shook my head. "I did not even notice you until you spoke. May I ask how you knew my name?"
He shrugged and smiled, then dipped into a bow as I had not seen in a long time. "Word gets around. And I recognize you besides. From your living days. You are the Princess Fawn of the kingdom of Tamenrook."
I searched my memories for his face. "I'm sorry, I don't recall you. Were you dead before?"
"No, no, Your Highness. We never had the pleasure of meeting. I only saw you via a portrait. May I say that it did not do you justice."
I giggled in spite of myself. It had been so long since I had experienced some good flattery. "You are too kind. You do realize that my body is presently rotting in the ground down south?"
He outright laughed. "And a sense of humor to boot. I only beg of you right now not to think I'm a madman. I just like to talk to people. You do realize that this spirit body is almost as good as the other? You can do things with it, can't you?"
That was beside the point. Way to back around a joke. "You're fine, sir."
"Allow me to introduce myself." He gave another sweeping bow, his cloak twirling about him like a sail. "My name is Bernard."
Bernard. Just Bernard. No other names or title. Not that such things mattered in the Spirit World.
I curtsied. Such manners seemed so fancy. And to think I had mocked Wyatt earlier that day! And now here I was, curtsying in the starlight. "Pleasure to meet you, Bernard. Do you know Grace?"
He nodded. "Yes, I know Grace."
He had not felt the Prickling for her, had he? The question must have shown on my face, for Bernard shook his head. "I'm not helping her. She doesn't need any help. She's not the type for it. But I've watched her and I can tell you that she is a trickster. Does one thing and then another that is the opposite."
Was he not talking about Christine? I smiled. "I confess that I don't know her very well at all."
"So she's not yours, then?" He asked the question without the barest hint of surprise. It was merely a confirmation.
"No. I'm here for her stepsister. A girl named Christine."
"Christine. Ah, yes. A trickster as well."
"You know them, then."
He nodded. "I have watched them."
"Were you from around here?" It was nice to talk to someone that wasn't living, oddly enough.
He nodded again. "Sunelle, born, raised, and died. I love it here. Beautiful kingdom."
"So was Tamenrook, in its own rainy way," I said wistfully. "I don't think I could ever return there."
Bernard nodded with understanding. "You should try it sometime. It's not good to separate yourself from what you love."
"But it's not always good to be around it." I wasn't sure if I meant that for myself or for Bernard. "Thank-you for scaring me. It's good to talk to someone that doesn't think I'm a dream."
He laughed. "Christine thinks you're a dream?"
"She used to, at any rate."
"Well, people aren't used to ghosts or angels or anything of the like popping into their lives. I must be off, but I hope to see you again, Princess."
"My title no longer matters."
He smiled. "I know."
And then he disappeared.
I waited outside, thinking about what he said, until the dark hour right before dawn when Grace came riding back to the house.
