“I trust I can rely on your discretion?” he said, “Her cuts are shallow, but have someone see to them as soon as you get to Blythe.”
Silence stretched between them, and Luci could have sworn there was a clock ticking.
“Your Highness, please forgive me, but she is my charge, and I must ask what occurred here tonight. Please forgive my rudeness.”
“You are a good woman, Lady Treveon. I showed Brielle the room of mirrors, but something happened, and they shattered. She is in a state of shock.”
“Magic-” Lady Treveon gasped.
“I do not know, only that I made a mistake and would like to set it right,” he said.
Maybe the rest was said in silence, Luci couldn’t have said one way or another, though. Instead, she was carefully ushered into a carriage that smelt faintly of strawberries. Gentle hands carefully laid her down till she rested her head on plush silks and chiffon, a soothing caress down her cheek.
“There, there.” Lady Margaret said.
A press of lips to her hand.
“Forgive me,” he said.
Maybe she did. It was hard to say as darkness rushed over her.
Chapter seven
After The Ball
While there is nothing quite like a ball and a first dance, what comes after is often where the story begins.
-Tales From Meridea, Volume III
Warm light and plush silk inlaid with cotton surrounded Luci in a perfect nest of comfort. Muscles stretching, she reveled in how good it felt to be in bed and wake up to the sun’s embrace. Outside, birds chirped a sweet melody. Everything was perfectly as it should be. Except that wasn’t quite right. A nagging in the back of her mind knotted and twisted until shewas forced to consider that to be awake meant surrendering blissful ignorance.
Memories rushed her like a wild east wind, forcing her to sit up. Maybe they had been dreams? Terrible, beautiful dreams. Lifting her hand to her lips, she felt the ghost of almost kisses that had felt stolen and right.
“Oh, thank the light!” Brielle’s voice was too high, worried. “Mrs. Blakesley, please tell my step-mother that Luci is awake.”
“About time,” muttered Mrs. Blakesley from across the room, but Luci could have sworn there was a hint of a whispered prayer as the door closed behind her.
Brielle. With a remarkable lack of grace, Luci flung herself free from her cocoon and found Brielle sitting cross-legged next to her. Well. Brielle was alive and well through the worst of her storm. Thoughts of trickster princes and impossible magic fled her mind as she pressed her hand to Brielle’s forehead. Cool. No fever.
A rush of air left Luci’s chest, and it was like she could take a whole breath once more. Tension released in waves down her body, her shoulders dropping and her back loosening. Being away from Brielle when she was sick was not an experience Luci intended to have again. This was her place. Not a castle, she could barely breathe in.
“Are you all right?” Brielle said, gentle and hesitant.
The only time Brielle had ever taken that tone with her was when she had come back from Picadilly Street. Like she was afraid remembering would break Luci. It settled over her, changing the elation she had just been feeling to something else. Something wary.
“I’m fine,” Luci said. “Just happy you are feeling better.
Brielle reached out her hand and took Luci’s in hers. Her round eyes had a silver mist as if she were seconds from losingher composure. It was too much for Luci’s frail heart, and she pulled her friend closer, wrapping her in a tight embrace.
Shoulders shaking, Luci held her as she worked through the darkness that clouded her.
“I’m all right, Bri. I promise.” Luci murmured.
Brielle pulled away with tracks of tears running down her pale cheeks. “It’s not okay. Look at you.”
Her fingers trailed over the cuts on her hands, and Luci was forced to admit they were off-putting. The gashes were deep, and someone had stitched them, but she had no memory of it. No memory of anything after she got in the carriage.
“The prince did this to you,” Brielle said with more menace in her voice than ever before.