Chapter 12 – Theatrical
Marianne slowly let herself sink into the leaves, thinking furiously.
First step: get out of these ropes. She rubbed her wrists together, hoping she could break free with her strength alone (she worked out, damn it, better put that to good use), to no avail. The knots proved tougher—smarter—than she had expected.
Wasn't there something sharp that could cut through it? She checked the shelves by turning around to open them, but they were empty, and nothing was sitting on the furniture save for a small wooden sculpture next to the floor bedding. She had to untie herself somehow; there had to be a way. After all, once the sun was up, her father would notice she was gone —that is, if he hadn't already, and she suspected he had. She needed time to reach the castle and stop the army from assembling, and there was no unfurling her wings with her hands tied over them.
She started looking around the room as fast as she could, opening drawers again and fumbling with them, though careful not to attract attention, and not finding a single thing inside the furniture. This was clearly a winter room, and its usual occupant hadn't touched it in several months. Its dustiness made the search for a sharp object even trickier—her fingers left traces everywhere, so she swiped the dust where they stood out too much.
Why did everything have to be made out of wood? There had to be a piece of metal somewhere, like a mirror, or a protruding nail, or—
Well, she had a dagger under the top of her armour, but there was no way she could get it into her hands. It was in a pocket, flat against her upper chest, hidden under the catch of her shoulder.
Then again, maybe if she turned upside-down, or on the side, she'd be able to shake it off… Yes, that was probably her best bet. And if someone suddenly opened the door, she could sit on it.
And stab her own butt accidentally, no, that wouldn't work… If she were asked to stand up, they'd notice its silver gleam for sure.
But what else could she do? Cross a leg over the other and wait patiently for the king to come home? And then hope he would grant her an audience soon?
The princess kneeled on the leaves, suddenly deeply aware of the fact that she couldn't use her arms to balance herself but willing to try anyway. At least, by being immobilized, her wings were protected. She laid down on her back, propped her legs up the wall and wriggled to pull herself up, her neck bent and her feet pressed flat. It proved almost impossible past a certain point without her arms to push the top of her body closer—
but then she felt the dagger tilt slightly inside its pocket. Maybe it wasn't hopeless after all!
She straightened her neck, most of her weight now lying on her cranium, and tried to twist her shoulders so gravity would do the rest. The blade didn't move much, but she had a feeling it would go eventually, if she could… just… shake it a bit more…
And of course, it had to happen: she heard quick steps climbing the stairs right before the door burst wide open. She stared upside-down at the small toad-like goblin, who stared back with a dumbfounded expression and looked like he had been about to say something. "What are you doing?" he asked simply.
She frowned and muttered the first thing that came to mind: "I'm really angry, so I'm trying to calm down."
"How?"
"By making the blood flow into my head," she lied. "Please leave me alone for five minutes."
"Okay, good idea," he replied politely as he exited and closed the door.
Marianne sighed loudly. Of course, it had to happen. Of course. Such was her luck. It would have been wiser to wait before monkeying around. Now that she thought about it, the Dowager Queen had mentioned breakfast, so that probably had something to do with why he had come back so soon.
Then, it struck her: the dagger's sheath was flight-proof. It was designed not to drop the blade by simply being upside-down.
To her surprise, he opened the door again. "Do you need any help?" he offered, peeking from beyond the frame.
"No, thank you."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"Okay. Just call if you do."
"I will, thank you."
He disappeared and closed the door.
The pressure was starting to build up behind her eyes, along with the urgent need to think of another plan. She dropped her feet and laid back again, defeated.
She had embarrassed herself for nothing.
The ceiling was oddly shaped, she noticed. It stood out to her in the sense that it hadn't been carved the way the fairy castle had been cut into somewhat geometrical rooms. While the walls and the floors here had evidently been polished, the workers had left the upper portion untouched, removing only the parts that hung too low. She wasn't sure she could appreciate it in her current state, but given enough time to really look at it and in circumstances that didn't imply leaving her tied up in a foreign country, she could probably find beauty in this concept.
She got up again and wandered around, trying to distract herself from the inevitable anxiety in the back of her mind. Since she was unable to untie her wrists, the more time passed, the more being an obedient captive rather than a rebellious one seemed like the proper thing to do.
Was there a breach on the walls that she could work open, if she were ever left untied? The tree bark looked thin (how was the person living here not cold in winter?) and there was the pale light of very early morning coming in through millions of extremely small lines. She'd need her hands to inspect them for a weakness.
Waiting passively meant she would eventually meet the king of the Dark Forest… the real king. There was no way that guy was the son of a short, horned female goblin. Why would he pretend he was? I'm not surprised you guessed who I was, he had told her —she was sure of it.
In retrospect, she never called him a king explicitly. He had only acknowledged the title "Your Majesty," which meant he was definitely a member of the royal family. It was impossible to tell his age either, so maybe he was the Dowager Queen's husband? There was no telling his age, but given his features and how tall he was, he had to be at least ten years older than her.
Possibly she could ask the toad-like goblin who was trying to be helpful?
"Excuse me?" she went to call through the door.
"Yes?" He didn't open it. "How are you now?"
"I'm feeling better. Hey, how long do you think it's going to take for the king to come back?"
"Err, it depends on his mood."
She waited for him to continue, but he didn't. She started to grow impatient. "So… how is his mood, at the moment?"
"I don't know. We'll find out when he comes back."
Not very helpful indeed. "Is he stressed? Is that why he left the castle so early in the morning?"
"His Majesty is not stressed. To the contrary, he's incredibly poised for someone with his temper."
"What would… take him away so early, then?"
"He enjoys watching the changes the rising sun brings about from within the forest."
She blinked, not having expected her guard to attempt poetry. "So he'll be back once the sun rises higher than the horizon, then?"
"Sometimes he wanders longer than that."
She let out a muted sigh. How could someone who tried so hard to be of use turn out to be so vain? "He should be back by the middle of the day, then?"
"He rarely stays away that late."
"Probably not, then?"
"It happens sometimes. For example, if there's an urgent problem to solve, he'll be in the village until past the second half of the day. He is such a devoted person!"
"I… see. So, is there an urgent problem to solve, now?"
"Yes, there's… err… On… On second thought, I don't think answering that would be a good idea."
"Oh, err, of course, I'm sorry. I'm just trying to figure out when he'll come back."
"Well, you should hear him when he does. Or perhaps I will, if you fall asleep."
"What do you mean I'll hear him?"
"You'll hear his powerful wings outside, and his heavy steps over your head."
Marianne looked above. There was a room over this one? "Okay, I'll watch out for it."
There was a short, awkward silence.
"What will happen if you can't deliver your message to him?" he asked.
"We're… going to have even more problems."
"Us, goblins, too?"
"Yes."
"Oh… That sounds bad. Did something happen with… I don't know, let's say, totally at random… your army?"
"Err… Well… As much as I want to tell you why, I should really let the king know first."
"Because if it's about your army, it's no use talking to him. He knows everything already, and he doesn't want to talk about it."
"Do you think he may refuse to see me?"
"He may send you straight to the dungeon like he did the last fairy. So, it really is about your army?"
"Do you mean the Sugar Plum Fairy? He sent her to the dungeon without a trial?"
"Oh, no, she already had a trial in the past, but after some time, she was captured again and sent directly to her cell."
"That's… That's unfair. Why would he do such a thing? He never told her why she was imprisoned?"
"She knows why, of course! He relayed the message. I was the lucky one to communicate it to her. Ahem. I remember she begged me to let her speak to him, but he never allowed it and she's been down there ever since."
"But she wasn't given a chance to explain herself?"
"Sire and her had plenty of time to talk already, he said."
"But… That's unfair. She should have the right to defend herself to the end. That's power abuse on his part!"
"Abuse his power? Oh, no, never sire! He did exactly what he had to do. You know, the Sugar Plum Fairy was causing great chaos in the Dark Forest."
"What kind of chaos?"
"She… Wait, I came here for a reason. What was it again…?"
"Err—"
"Oh, I just remembered! I have to ask if you like roots."
"Roots? I don't know, I never tried. So, what kind of chaos was she causing?"
"I'll be right back!" he announced before leaving in rapid steps down the stairs.
The word "Wait!" hung from her mouth, but she hesitated too long to say it before he disappeared into the silence.
Marianne turned around and shook the doorknob blindly, but the lock kept it in its position. She then went to sit on the bed again and stared at the ceiling, wondering what the other rooms looked like and hoping that goblin would come back and finish their conversation.
After some time, it became clear that he wouldn't, so she stood back up to inspect the walls and search for a crack through which she could gaze outside, once again without finding anything. At least, it had the merit of somewhat distracting her from the mental image of the Sugar Plum Fairy's despair, of her father's disappointed expression when he'd find the broken lock on her windows, and of the echo of loud military songs by crowds of fairy soldiers.
To distract herself further, she tried to guess what type of tree this castle was built from. This strategy didn't last long, however. She studied social sciences, not botanica.
After some time unsuccessfully battling her thoughts, a broad shadow crossed over a portion of the wall with a familiar buzzing sound, like a dragonfly preparing to land, followed by two feet hitting the floor in a thump. The person, whom she couldn't imagine was any other than the mysterious king, opened and closed something loudly, then paced the room in slow, wide steps. It was quiet again after that.
Well, she couldn't exactly wait in silence for the toad-goblin to return, nor for someone to notice the king of her presence. This called for an intervention.
Her spine straightened by itself, and she cleared her throat. She focused her breathing in her belly, hummed a quick voice exercise.
Her feet started thumping. Right, left, both —right, left, both. As a response, she heard something, probably dropped by accident by its owner, falling to the floor and bouncing a few times over her head.
She began signing with passion as she stomped the song's rhythm.
"Buddy you're a boy, make a big noise,
Playin' in the street, gonna be a big man some day
You got mud on yo' face,
You big disgrace
Kickin' your can all over the place."
The king crossed the room again, this time in fast steps.
"We will, we will rock you!" she continued, the tremolo in her voice finally starting to get clear.
He opened and closed something. More buzzing, then silence.
"We will, we will rock you!"
She sang to the end of the song, thumping and playing with her voice —although it felt silly after the second chorus, since she was most likely alone. Oh well, it's not every day you get a perfectly soundproof room!
The door opened with a bang, revealing the tall silhouette of the one she had been looking for.
And it was just the person she had been expecting.
"Oh, hi," she greeted him with a large smile. "Nice meeting you here. So, are you the king of the Dark Forest or not? Because I just talked to someone who said they were the king's mother, so really, I had to hear it from you."
He simply stared at her like she had spoken in a foreign language. The rings under his eyes were noticeably dark, his face in such a state of panicked shock that perhaps he didn't remember his own name. "What are you doing here?!" he dropped in a rough voice.
"Oh, just trying to talk to you— you know, as I promised I would."
He whisper-screamed: "I mean… How did you get captured?!"
A few pairs of feet climbed up the stairs before she could find a suitable answer.
As soon as he heard them, his whole face twisted into a furious grimace that made her freeze and forget she had to say something, the scales on his shoulders standing up threateningly. The toad-goblin and his taller companion from before tripped and slid in front of him. "Bring her to my throne," he growled in a flat, tired tone as he stepped over their small forms and left the door frame. "NOW!"
"Yes, Sire!" they both chanted in unison and hurried to her, their claws digging in the wood under them.
Marianne didn't need to be told twice. She followed the tallest one while her chatty guard tailed behind them, hopping down the stairs.
"And don't you dare waste his time with any of Griselda's ideas," the one in front warned, glaring up at her over his shoulder.
"Don't worry, I don't have any time to waste with that either," the princess replied automatically with sincere abashment.
When they arrived in said room, Marianne noticed the outside gate had been barricaded with bones. Two large goblins whose species was the same as the ones who had pulled her out of the carnivorous flowers and tied her up were standing in front of it. The room was as quiet and still as a legal court. Everyone followed each of her step with their eyes.
The Dowager Queen wasn't there.
Her stranger sat on the throne and leant forward, arched over his knees as he held his staff in his right hand for support. Two goblins with trunks and short spears, their heads just as high as his waist, stood on either side of his legs. His stare had such a dramatic intensity to it that she struggled not to laugh. He looked as if he was blaming her for every single problem he had encountered throughout his existence.
The word "almost" was worth highlighting. Marianne refused to be intimidated, no matter the person, and no matter the circumstances. She hadn't done anything wrong, dammit.
Besides, why was he so angry to see her, all of a sudden? She could have sworn that he had tried to act friendly the previous day. And his expression, when he found her in the "winter" room, hadn't been one of annoyance, or anything that usually leads directly to anger—it was confusion. He had simply turned angry once he had heard the small goblins climbing the stairs. Why?
They made her stand around the middle of the room, midway to the throne, between said two small goblins. Her sword was nowhere to be seen.
"Why was she in that room?" the stranger growled again. "Stuff. Thang. Explain yourselves."
"W… we were ordered to keep her there to wait for you, Sire," the tallest one of the two replied, his voice nervous.
He sighed loudly. "And you!" he directed toward her, pointing a finger at the same time. "I swear, if I had been here when they brought you in, you'd already have been catapulted out." His arm swung violently on his side as if to give her a mental image. He raised his back to the throne. "State your business, fairy, and do it quick, or I'll ask them to gag you and leave you with the mushrooms in the dungeon," he ordered, with exaggerated clarity around the end.
Marianne forced herself to take deep breaths. She had to be the one to stay calm, even if she was the only one. Besides, she had nothing to fear. What could he really do to her? She threw her hair out of her eyes with a whip of the head. "Relax. You know I came in peace."
He growled loudly. His fist balled on his armrest. "Is that all you have to say for your defence?"
"No, I do have something to tell you." She took a quick second to remember the exact phrase she had mentally rehearsed so much on her way to the border. "In light of the recent events, the Fairy Kingdom would like to discuss the possibility of a peace treaty with the rulers—"
"A peace treaty?" He twisted his neck to the side incredulously, then covered his eyes with one hand, snickering. "Ridiculous."
Marianne couldn't help being taken aback, though she refused to show it. It was like she was talking to an entirely different person.
"You see, miss important fairy," he continued, unblocking his sight and drawing wide, self-explanatory circles with his left hand, "for there to be a peace treaty, there has to be a war."
She started to suspect he was indeed a different person. Were there more like him, who resembled him, to the point that she could confuse them? "Well, your people have already committed a serious crime against mine," she reminded him, her eyes never leaving his. "If we don't settle this soon, it's going to turn into one. A peace treaty would be sure to put our differences aside and keep the conflict from escalating."
"Like you say. It's not yet a war. And so, I'm fairly convinced a peace treaty would be premature." He slowly pulled himself into a stand. "We have nothing to discuss."
"I have come to prevent a war." She mentally patted herself on the back for warming up her voice earlier. "I believe we can avoid gruesome events… if we could just take a moment to talk about it."
He stayed in place some more, glaring tiredly, then dropped his head and rubbed his face. Another loud sigh and a few unintelligible grumblings escaped his mouth before he lowered himself back into his throne. "Prevent a war, huh. It sounds like way more trouble than just… letting it happen, no?"
"The Fairy Kingdom has no wish for a violent confrontation. And I'm sure you don't either."
"Yes, I know now's not the time for the Fairy Kingdom to go to war." He smirked down at her and put his face on a fist. "So according to you, I should sit here, negotiate a document that shapes the relationship between my people and yours, possibly saving yours in the process… with whoever knocks at my door and asks, it seems. Why not introduce yourself first?"
"I merely volunteered to open a dialogue with the Dark Forest's royal family. I didn't come to discuss the peace treaty itself."
"Okay, so that makes you… what? A general? A doctor?"
"I'm sorry?"
"I'm trying to understand who you are, pretending you have such influence."
"I'm just a messenger."
"No, you're not just a messenger."
She raised an unamused eyebrow at him, still not blinking.
"You're too calm," he explained lazily. "A peasant would be shaking in their boots right now, or they'd be throwing insults at me for refusing to talk. And you're using quite the fancy language for a commoner. You belong to the royal family, don't you?"
"She had a sword, your Highness," the smallest goblin on her side added.
"Oh, the messenger fairy girl from the fields had a sword!" the king humoured, mockery written all over his features. "You're from their army, then. The last one, I assume."
Around her, a few goblins snorted.
"Your Majesty," she addressed him to interrupt their amusement. She fought within herself to calm her nerves. "May I remind you that you don't have any time to waste and that you'd like to get this over with as soon as possible? I, for one, certainly do."
His furious frown returned instantly.
Was it a good idea to bring up the subject of trade and resources? No, she concluded rapidly. She couldn't play that card to her advantage yet. He'd only see it as an attempt to bargain her own release —and he probably wouldn't even believe her. In the end, she couldn't do much except reciprocate his insistent gaze with the most serious face she could muster.
"You say I'm impertinent," he spit, "but you're the one who's not answering the questions. Who are you and what makes you think that I want to talk to you… about anything at all?"
"I never said you had to discuss anything with me. I speak in the name of the royal family, whose responsibility it will be to talk with you. I am a neutral entity, and I came to get your answer. Will you—"
"Neutral? You're a fairy. Why should I let fairies enter my territory when I have made it very clear in the past that it is forbidden for them to cross the border of the Dark Forest?"
"Of course you don't need to allow fairies in. The negotiations will be carried out at the border, so that no one has to enter the other's territory."
One corner of his lips lifted slightly. "But for some reason, the law doesn't apply to you?"
"The circumstances are extraordinary. I want your answer as soon as possible."
"And for you to deliver my answer, I'd have to make an exception and spare you from the punishment the laws dictate. Yes?"
Marianne felt herself become hot with nervousness. Why did she expect him to be compliant, again?
"This is why you have no credibility to me," he stressed. "You came to negotiate laws by willfully breaking one. And you think I'm going to release you?"
She saw where this was headed. His dark smile injected poison into her confidence.
"Of course, that would be most convenient for you," he continued. "But if I release you, I'd be setting a precedent. I'd send the message that fairies can come and go as they like, that they don't need to fear repercussions. And that if they did suffer consequences, it would be unfair. We haven't even started thinking of what kind of rock the peace treaty should be written on and already, I'm putting myself at a disadvantage. So, what do we have to talk about?"
That's when it all clicked into place: he actually was putting on an act. Flashbacks of him explaining to her how he had to pretend some things, if he wanted to maintain his own credibility and be consistent, raced through her mind.
Everything suddenly made so much sense. This had to be the calculated behaviour that he had talked about.
"There was little time," she tried to justify. "As I said, the circumstances called for our earliest possible meeting."
"In order not to go to war, yes, I know," he gestured dismissively with a hand.
"When I stood at the border, I couldn't find anyone. I had to cross it. Fortunately for me, your guards had the generosity of carrying me to your castle, half against my will but half helping my cause. You must take into consideration that my intention was only to talk with you."
"Intention? What do I know about your intention? I swear, little girl, if the conflict does escalate to a war, it'll be your fault; not mine."
Marianne's face contracted into an unforgiving scowl. "My name is Marianne," she echoed through the room. "And if you want to discuss law, you'll have to keep talking of me as an adult. Unless you want to treat me with the children's laws, according to which you should consider me misplaced and hand me back to my dependants. In which case you don't, you would be starting a war, not me. Which one is it going to be?"
He had seemed surprised at first, but now looked oddly satisfied. "Very well. Why would you need a sword, then?"
"Your Majesty, be serious. Our kingdoms are not in peace. I'd be a fool to enter yours without something to defend myself."
"You were quite defenseless to me in that carnivorous flower, though…" a goblin behind her whispered.
The goblins snickered. Marianne, begging her own face to stop burning, turned around to address an annoyed glare at the culprit, who happened to be taller than her. He didn't look particularly impressed, so she returned her attention to the apparent king and forced her blood to cool down. "My only goal is to prevent harm from coming to both our people. Their safety made the risk worth taking, and I certainly don't regret taking it. I have the best interests of both our kingdoms at heart, and when I say 'best interest of the kingdom', I don't mean your interest, or mine. I mean the people; both yours and mine. Making sure there is no bloodshed and no more terror was more important than making sure I wasn't making a diplomatic faux pas. Do you see, now, why I had no choice but to come here on my own?"
He started chuckling again.
She ignored him and the cold shivers that were climbing up her back. "And will you tell me now that you are going to discuss this situation with the fairies' royal family at the border?"
"Best for the people… What do fairies know about that?" He stood, weapon in hand, except this time, he descended the stairs toward her, one by one and with surprising grace. "Just to be clear, I should expect an army if I don't release you?" he asked, another hint of mockery raising his pitch.
She stayed perfectly still and held his gaze. "Yes."
"So you're not just a messenger, then?"
"Yes, I am just a messenger. And a subject of the Fairy Kingdom." She let him move around her but kept her eyes on his, turning her head slowly to meet him on the other side when he disappeared behind her.
"But you're incredibly calm. Or are you just foolish?" He stopped in front of her and poked a claw under her chin. "Maybe you just don't realize how dire your situation is?"
She managed to pull out a relaxed smile. "I do."
"You're tied up." He kept his eyes on hers. "Your wings are blocked. We took your weapon. Don't you think you should be a bit more… polite, for your own sake?"
Her expression didn't change, though she blinked slowly. "Are you saying I should be intimidated?"
His smile stretched widely so most of his tainted teeth were visible. "We happen to like fresh fairy meat, here. Yes, you should absolutely be intimidated."
The knowledge that he was pretending made her own act easier to perform. "Too bad, your majesty. I'm not."
His expression turned into a devilish growl. Without warning, his whole palm captured her face, squishing her cheeks between his fingers roughly.
Marianne held his gaze nonetheless, defiant.
"Why are you not scared?" His hand released her cheeks in a jerk and caressed one upward, finally clenching in her hair, pulling slightly. Pain shot up on her scalp, but only her left eye twitched. "We could cook you over a fire and eat you." He tilted her head to the side roughly and approached his face to hers. "I could lock you up in the dungeon and never let you see the light of day again." He got even closer and whispered in her ear. "I could have you tortured, and extract information from you about the Fairy Kingdom. And you wouldn't have a single say in it."
Her lips parted. She felt a new shiver climb up her back and was surprised by the sensation this one left her with.
He finally relaxed his grip and instead pointed his weapon to her chest, over her left breast, with his other hand. "Or I could kill you right here. But you're too naïve to think I would, aren't you?"
"I'm not scared because the fear most likely comes from you, Your Majesty."
His face set itself in stone.
She jumped on the occasion his surprised silence had turned into. "You may not fear me in the 'physical,' 'aggressive' meaning of the word, but…" One of her brows rose. "I think there are things between you and me that you'd like me to keep quiet about."
His mouth opened, but no sound came out of it. His grip on his staff lost its flawless angle.
"What is she talking about, Bog?" Griselda asserted with as much enthusiasm as ever, entering the room with an enormous food trolley that was most likely the promised breakfast.