I went through a variety of emotions on my way to the city. One was anger, the silent and stubborn kind that was partially toward me for obeying the whim of a scrawny little kitchen maid. Another was something more placid, perfectly all right with waltzing through the sun-stroked fields that lay between the house and the city on the way to see my former lover. Then there was the obligatory sense of insanity, a strange mix of enthusiasm and terror.
I still did not know what exactly I was doing.
But there I was, one dead girl strolling toward the city with aforementioned kitchen maid's letter tucked neatly into the pocket of my robe. I felt drunk, as if at any moment I would scream and pass out on the floor. When was the last time I had been such a coward? It was only Wyatt. My best friend.
After all those years trying to become half-way normal, I couldn't summon the courage to see him properly.
Before I knew it I had reached the city. Me, the dead angel draped in a robe. I felt like dust on the cobblestones. It was like being thirteen years old all over again. My head was down, eyes focused on the dust and the shadows that whirled with passing people. I was visible and I did not care. Not a good mix for travel. A shoulder grazed mine, followed by a murmured "'Scuse me, miss."
"You're fine," I replied in a voice just as soft. Then I stopped and took a deep breath. I was clearly on my way to the palace and I had to make a decision, fast, about what I was going to do. Around me the city swirled with its citizens as they went on whatever they happened to do during the day. Idiots. Did they not have anything more important to do than shop and chat and yell at each other? Ugh, I could not be thinking like that! I bit my lip and pressed my back up against the wall to stare at them. They were all so good at being mortal, why could they not give me advice? But though I could be seen on one watched me and I think I preferred it as such. I had spent nine years mingling with commoners and loving it, for the most part. But today was different. Today I did not want anything to do with them. Goodness, what had happened to my delight in a sunny day?
I pulled Christine's letter from my pocket and read it once more. The letter was disgustingly flirtatious for a girl who had only met the man once. Just what was going through that head of hers? I choked back the smile that crept over my face, apparently thinking this was nothing more than an extract out of a bad romance. I even considered the notion of crumpling the damned thing. My fingers pressed tightly over the paper, which gave a faint crinkle.
No. No crumpled paper, no spite for nine years gone. That was emotion reserved for more important matters that wouldn't offend the jokes of Christine. I closed my eyes and let my fingers trail back from the letter before it returned unharmed to my pocket.
"Christine," I muttered, "What are you trying to do to me?"
Nothing, of course. How was she to know? I opened my eyes and found the outline of the distant palace. Not-so-distant palace. I had been there. All I had to do was slip unseen into his room and leave it lying on the table, for the bed would hopefully be more than to Christine's liking—I suspected the girl made up half of her flirtations out of girlish thoughts, poor thing, not that I had been so different before finding Wyatt. I did not even have to go that far. The letter could be slipped into the pouch of a messenger, or any servant for that matter, quite easily. But where was the fun then?
What was wrong with me? I had to be more creative than that. This was my chance. This was Wyatt. My unfinished business.
Across the way was a woman, a pretty woman involved in the business of jewelry making. I honestly would not be surprised if she turned out to be some sort of witch or gypsy, according to her dress. Well, nothing that I couldn't handle. Her cart was laid out with her beaded wares, along with a smooth, round mirror. I strode up the stand, once more the confident angel that could mess with the lives of the living as I pleased. "Good day," I said.
"Good day," she returned brightly before setting to show me the jewelry. "The purple suits you best, miss."
"You think so?" I asked as innocently as a curious shopper could.
"Indeed. Here, let me show you. Give me your neck."
I thought the request would be better suited spilling from the mouth of a vampire, but oh well. I dutifully leaned forward as she snapped the beads around my neck. And no bite was given. "See? Look at yourself in the mirror. They're lovely on you."
And yes, the vain and earthy part of me liked them very much. I decided to drum up some coins to buy them as the reflection in the mirror changed.
The woman frowned as I handed her the coins.
"Is something wrong?" I asked. My voice was different, too. Slightly lighter, with the accent of Sunelle.
The frown vanished with a confused smile as the shook her head. "No, nothing is wrong. Thank-you for your purchase and may God smile upon you today."
I fingered my new beads as I stepped away, my straight wave of dark brown hair bouncing off my shoulders. I felt it rather clashed with the bright blue of my eyes, but I wasn't too particular when it came to changing my appearance.
Besides, my heart was fluttering too much for many vain thoughts.
I strode through the rest of the town, now with all the confidence for which I could wish rushing through me, knowing that with the smallest trip it would all be gone. But it was a game, this was, a clever game of masquerade through which Wyatt would never see. I passed unseen through shadows of the alley, letting my cloak change to the slightly tattered garb of a simple messenger girl. No one saw me even as I let me shine through. I was a stranger to Sunelle, but obviously someone who had ever right to be there. I worked for Lady Melissa, widow of the royal family's favorite historian, and I had to deliver an important message to Prince Wyatt, soon to be crowned King of Sunelle, himself. I wanted to laugh and cry and skip and run in terror all at once. It was an even odder assortment of emotions than before.
I reached the front gate, where stood soldiers. I would have no trouble with them.
"Good day, sirs!" I gave the somewhat curtsy that a common messenger girl would give when trying to act above her station in order to impress people as important as palace guards. "I come baring a message from the Lady Melissa."
The guards exchanged looks, and I was glad to see they were not ones of doubt or suspicion. "Ah, the Lady Melissa? I have not heard from her since the death of her second husband. The poor woman." The speaker, a young red-haired thing who I found rather handsome nodded to me. "Miss, for who is the message?"
"Prince Wyatt," I said. "It is most urgent." It was not necessary to throw into the urgency clause, but it did make it easier on them to think that they weren't doing my bidding.
The older man stroked his scruffy chin. "I am not sure just where Prince Wyatt is right now. Would you like one of us to pass the message on?"
I humbly lowered my eyes. "Please, sirs, my mistress told me I must see with my own eyes that it is delivered to the His Majesty."
The men smiled at each other, and the red-head opened the gate. "Someone at the palace will help you find the Prince."
I curtsied once more and darted through. I felt like a child, not an adult! But it was a rather fun game.
I had not been able to properly see the grounds the night before. Wyatt had described them once to me, a thoroughly unorganized piece of glorious chaos of plants, only cut back to allow a path. There would not be much room for us to have thrown each other down, I thought with a grin. I stopped a moment to take the plants in, their sight, their smell, their descriptions as Wyatt had given.
"May I help you, miss?"
My first instinct was to vanish. But that would have been stupid considering my entire mission. I could not falter, I turned around with the proper surprise of a girl who had just been startled. "Forgive me!" I gasped.
Evan smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."
I let my eyes fall to the ground "I'm here on a delivery. I should not have stopped."
"No need to apologize." He gestured around the grounds. "I admit they are somewhat overwhelming."
"But lovely!" I put in. "I've heard so many stories about them, I'm just happy to be finally seeing them in person!"
Evan was silent a moment. "I'm glad you like them. The King always hated the idea that they would ever be cut back."
I studied his old face. So proper and yet so kind. Hadn't I always liked him? "People always talk about these gardens. But we can't loiter about. You strike me as a delivery girl? Am I right? I don't know if anyone could want you stopping to admire flowers and talk with an old codger like me."
I nodded and blushed. "I work in the house of Lady Melissa—"
"That old bat!" Evan said without remorse. "I pity you! Never liked her or any of her brood. Think much too highly of themselves, if you ask me. Thankfully she has ignored us for years until now. But listen to me! You have a message. Who is it for?"
I pulled out the letter. Prince Wyatt's name was scrawled across. "His Majesty Prince Wyatt, sir." It was good to listen to the sound of Evan's voice. "Do you know where he might be? My instructions are that I deliver this letter right into his hand?"
"Would you prefer I take it to him myself and save you the time and a harsh word from your mistress?" Evan asked. "I can even put a coin your way. Lord knows you would need it."
Just how horrid was Lady Melissa? But I did not need any gold. I shook my head and said with a smile "No money is worth her finding out I did not obey her instructions exactly."
Evan threw back his head and laughed. "I will not argue you there. I will take you right to him. What is your name, girl?"
Fawn, of course, was the first thing to pop into my head. I said the second thing, which was only slightly less stupid. "Angel." Good grief, if only Minister Evan knew the truth! But it had worked a while for Christine. "My name is Angel."
"And you are one for putting up with Lady Melissa," Evan replied. "Right this way. He's in the library, I believe."
How like him.
Evan led me through the palace. For some reason it did not interest me as much as the grounds had. Even so I could not help but be amazed by the fact that this is where my dear Wyatt had grown up. I imagined a smaller him playing here. I imagined the two of us chasing the children we never had.
"Angel?" Evan asked. "Are you all right?"
A tear had escaped my eye. I wiped it away and beamed at him. "I think something outside had bothered my nose."
"Just don't die. Here we are, the library." He pushed open half a set of reddish doors into what could only be described as the most proper library I had ever seen. Small, but books covering every inch of space. The younger me could have survived here for years. And there at a table against one wall was him. My Wyatt, as handsome as ever. The years had done him well. I had not entirely realized that yesterday.
"A message for you, Wyatt," Evan announced.
Wyatt looked up from the table. I wished I could see what he had been reading. He smiled at me and it was all I could do to stay up right. This wasn't correct. I should be leaping into his arms for a passionate kiss, ready for him to carry me into the cover of bookshelf shadows. He was so divine! And he not shaved that day, either. But all I did was stand there, somewhat afraid, a mere messenger girl in the big, bad palace, facing the soon-to-be-king. I curtsied and I did not even need to fake it clumsy. He approached me, still smiling, and I managed to take out the letter.
His smile was too innocent. He did not see me, he only saw Angel the messenger. "Who sends the message?"
I glanced at Evan with more of a glare than I meant. His old face went stubborn and I knew right away he was not going to leave, especially since I had gone above my station. "It's from the house of Lady Melissa, Your Highness."
His face clouded with bewilderment, but he took the letter and opened it. I watched his face as he read. More bewilderment, a look of knowing, a smile, and last of all a laugh.
I just stood waiting as a good messenger should.
"A servant delivering for a servant!" It was a joke to him. "Well, it was certainly a better letter than anyone in that family could write. Are you and Christine friends?"
I nodded. "Yes, Your Highness."
"And you managed to sneak a letter all the way to me from her." His eyes scanned the letter once more.
"Are you going to reply?"
Wyatt smiled. "Yes, I believe I will. If just to spite Lady Melissa."
Evan sighed. "Wyatt, if you don't mind me leaving I have more important matters to which to attend."
Wyatt shooed him off with a wave of his hand as he walked back to his table. "Tell me your name. I hate to think of you as nothing but the messenger."
For one moment I wondered what he would do if I said my true name. Probably shake it off as one of those names that people share. I had already told Evan one name, and I had to keep these things straight. "My name is Angel."
"Angel," he repeated. He paused, now seated, and studied my face. It did not make me nervous; rather, I relished it. "It suits you. For some reason, it suits you very much."
He had no idea. He had no idea how true and how silly and eye-rolling a name it was. But it was already out in the air and it was now my name.
"Well, Angel," he continued, "If you would like to take a seat, I will write up a reply for your friend Christine. She certainly has a lot of spunk to right such a thing to me."
I knew very well that he enjoyed every word of it. It was something he had always liked to drive him out of his more quiet moments. "Yes, Your Highness, she does. I suppose I'm just as crazy for delivering it."
"Please, call me Prince Wyatt. I'm not fond of titles."
"But isn't it true that you are about to take on the title of King?"
"Soon." He did not look up as he wrote. "Very soon. There's to be a ball and everything. All sorts of grand things."
"Well, Prince Wyatt, the people do like these sorts of things."
He rolled his eyes and stabbed his pen at the paper. "As well does the palace. But oh well. It is my job to please."
"I think you'll be a great king," I said truthfully. I was not normally so chatty. But it was so comfortable to be around him. All that had changed was me. Even so I could say whatever I wished. "But, and please excuse my impudence, I believe you should have a queen." It was cruel, but I craved to see his reaction.
His face only changed slightly, a sad drop of his mouth. But even so my heart broke. "Yes, Angel, you're probably right. And hopefully that will happen. Most men of my station would have been married years ago. Now I'm just old."
He didn't look that old to me. This was the age he was supposed to be. "You're still very handsome!" Oh, dear. A messenger girl would not have said such a thing without blushing, and fortunately my face exploded with red.
Wyatt looked at me and laughed. "Thank-you!"
I made sure my eyes were properly aimed down.
"I was supposed to have been married nearly ten years ago," he continued. The letter was finished and he was now in the process of sealing it. "She was the princess of a southern kingdom. Her name was Fawn."
It was almost sick to ask questions, but again I was too comfortable to keep from doing so. It was like one-sided flirtation, only I could show nothing. "Were you fond of her?"
"I was madly in love with her."
Good boy. And I was madly in love with him.
"We were soul mates, she and I."
"What happened, then?" Not that I didn't know first-hand. But it seemed that Wyatt wanted to talk about it. He was spilling these things out so freely.
"She was murdered." His body did not move.
"I'm sorry, Your
Highness. I did not mean—"
"No, no. You are fine. I always
want someone to listen." He managed a smile. "We couldn't
find her. It took hours. I just thought she was busy with someone.
We were preparing for a ball. A guard found her—I am forever in
his debt, strange as it may sound. I don't think I could have dealt
with finding her body myself. We found the bastard, pardon my
language. His name was Gavin Gray and no one knows why he killed my
Fawn."
"I am so sorry," I said softly. "I… I had heard stories, but I…"
He waved away my words. The letter to Christine was finished and now lay ignored on the tabletop. "It is perfectly all right, Angel. I've spent years trying to find out why and I will find out."
"Any clues?"
"You're not a spy, are you?" He meant it as a joke. "Gavin Grey was common scum, but he lived well as a mercenary all over the continent. He's been hired before." He gave a smile strange for the conversation. "I've never spoken so much to anyone, Angel. Thank-you for listening."
I returned the smile. It was more fun than I had thought, disguising myself. It made it more a game and less heartbreak.
"I have a list I've made," Wyatt said as he rose from his chair to rummage through stacks of paper. "Names. The King and Queen of Tamenrook also have a copy of the list. People who have hired Gavin Grey before. I'm not sure where I put it now."
Well, I wanted to see it myself! Too bad I couldn't demand it.
He sighed and grabbed the letter. "I'm stalling you. I'm sorry. Here, take this back to Christine and tell her not to attach so much grief to an accident." He slipped the letter into my hand. I shivered where he touched my skin. "Once more, thank-you for listening to me."
I met his eyes. "I was glad to."
And then, just like that, I left the library wondering if he thought me the flirtatious one.
