Once Upon a Romance 03 - With True Love's Kiss (25 page)

“Wonderful.
So, the first attempt was made by a maid under a Fae’s influence, and now she’s
poisoned with a mist-grown shrub? Please, tell me why some evil fairy is
targeting my cousin.”

“We canna
know, lassie,” Connelly tried to reason with her. “Could be Brannon has a
patron, same as yer family. Could be they see a danger in the lass. Could be ta
set in motion a fate we dinna know.”

“In fact,”
Fain broke in, “it could be Brannon, still. The links to the mist might be
coincidental.”

“Only one
thing is certain. Whoever the attacks are coming from, they seem to have no
trouble accessing Bianca.” Vivienne said the words slowly.

All four
looked at each other with identical expressions. Bianca was in terrible danger,
and they had no way of guarding from it.

“Oh good.”
Bianca’s voice came weakly from her cot. “I’m glad to see you’re all feeling so
optimistic.” She raised one hand to her head, wincing when her fingers
encountered the punctures.

“Bianca,”
Vivienne’s voice was firm, “you must consider doing something more to protect
yourself.”

“How, Vivi?
If I surround myself with guards I know and trust I will be isolated from the
people I have come to see, and one of them could still be a killer in disguise.
If I hole up in a fort and hide away from what might be, then this revolution
that we have built will fritter away to nothing.” She smiled at them all. “You
are all looking at this in the wrong light. Twice they have tried to kill me,
and twice they have failed.” She winced again, and pressed her hand gently to
her forehead. “However, from now on let’s all agree that I don’t need to bathe
or groom myself. I’m having very bad luck with maids.”

Connelly got
up and checked her pupils, and then turned to the others. “Out. Ye kin badger
the lass later, if ye’ve a mind ta, but fer now, young Robin will keep her
safe, an’ she needs rest.”

Vivienne
opened her mouth, but Connelly gave her such a ferocious stare that she clamped
it shut and stalked out of the tent. Then she flounced back in, gave Bianca a
gentle hug, and flounced back out.

Fain kissed
her on the forehead before following his fiancée, and Connelly gave Bianca a
nod and then gestured to the vial in Robin’s hand.

“A few
drops, whenever ye think of it, lad. ‘Tis the best way ta keep it in her blood.”

Then he,
too, left. Robin dutifully offered Bianca some of the milk thistle, and, once
she had taken it down, she settled back on her pillow and smiled up at him.

“That’s
twice now you’ve saved me.”

“You must
have more of a care for yourself.” He picked up her hand and cradled it in both
of his own. “I do not think my heart could stand seeing you come so close to
death a third time.”

“I thought
you were resigned to my mortality.”

He shook his
head at her weak teasing. “Knowing you will die in the fullness of time, and
knowing you will die in a very few seconds unless I do something, are two
entirely different things.”

“A good
thing you decided to stay, then.” Her breathing was coming easier, but still
labored.

“Better
still if I took you away, somewhere you would be out of danger forever.”

He felt her
hand grow still in his own, and the smile faded from her face. “Would you,
then? Would you take me away, to be with you?”

He leaned
down and brushed the hair back from her eyes. Their midnight depths held an
ache that he wished he could banish forever.

“I would,”
he whispered to her, “and I am thrice-over a fool for not realizing it sooner.
But it no longer matters, does it?” Her eyes closed, and tears rolled out past
her lashes and down her cheek as she slowly shook her head. He gently stroked
her cheek. “Do not hide your eyes from me, Bianca. Part of what I love in you
is that you will dedicate your life to what you believe in. I cannot hate the
choice you have made, even though it takes you from me.”

Sobs broke
from her body, and he held her against his chest, stroking her hair over and
over, while she clutched at him desperately. When at last she quieted, he found
her discarded bathing cloth and wiped her eyes.

“I must look
a mess. Exhausted, poisoned, and now sobbing all over you.”

He studied
her. Her skin was paler than ever, in the aftermath of the poison, and her
mouth was red and swollen from her crying spell. It stood out sharply from her
white skin and cloud of coal-black hair. He reached down and brushed the back
of one finger across her pale cheek.

“In truth,
you look more like a snow maiden than ever.”

She caught
him with her gaze, and he stopped breathing. Duty and longing warred in his
chest, until he felt he could not go and he could not stay. He stood there,
frozen, as Bianca leaned towards him, angling her face upwards. She moved until
they were close enough for their breath to mingle, then she reached up and
framed his face with her hands. Their pressure was slight, but he felt drawn
down, like iron to a lodestone.

And then a
voice came from outside the tent.

“Hello?”
Anders coughed delicately. “Princess? I was told you wished to see me after
dinner?”

Part of
Robin screamed in outrage at the interruption, but the more sensible aspect of
his nature took a step backward from Bianca.

“Don’t go,”
she begged him, hardly above a whisper. “Stay. I will send him away.”

“I cannot.”
He shook his head. “You have found your way, and I must let you travel it with
a man who can share it.”

He pressed
the milk thistle into her hand, and then stepped through the tent flap, holding
it open for Prince Anders.

***

Bianca tried
desperately to regain her composure. Playing for time, she seated herself on
the edge of her cot, and begged Anders to wait a moment while she took her few
drops. She made quite a production out of it, mixing the milk thistle with
water and drinking it down slowly, and by the time she was done she had managed
to contain the feelings of loss and misery. She even eked out a smile for
Anders.

“You may
have heard, I am not feeling my best.” She gestured for him to take a seat. “I
had forgotten I had invited you. I do apologize.”

“No
apologies necessary, your majesty.” Ignoring the stool, he seated himself beside
her on the bed. “I am glad that foul woman did not do you serious harm.” She
looked at him in curiosity, and he hastened to explain. “Master Goodfellow
asked me to keep her contained while he sought out aid for you.”

“Ah, well
then, my thanks.” He waved her thanks away, and a question occurred to Bianca. “Where
is she now?”

“Restrained,
in my tent. I could think of no safer place. A few of the soldiers have offered
to stand turns watching her.”

“Very well.
I was merely curious. It has nothing to do with my request that you attend me.”
Bianca realized she was stalling, and forced herself on. “I do not know if
Prince Felix has told you his good news?” Anders shook his head warily. “He has
consented to remain in Toldas, as my Justice, to help me codify our new laws.”

She could
see the swift realization pass across his face. His eyes flashed, and his mouth
moved to smile before he stifled it. She began to speak, but he held up a hand.

“Please,
your majesty.” He slid gracefully from the cot, to kneel down on the thin
leather floor of the tent. His face, though not handsome, shone with a light of
devotion that would have made it appealing, had Bianca not felt so sick at
heart. “I know that you choose to wed out of duty, not love, and I do not ask
you to profess feelings of devotion towards me. Nothing stops me, however, from
opening my heart to you.”

He took her
hand tenderly in his own. “I admire you greatly, Bianca. Your beauty and spirit
and kindness are unmatched, and for some time now I have hoped you would choose
me, not because I wish for a throne, but because I wish for you, as my wife.”

The words he
spoke were beautiful, but they cut Bianca to the quick, because they were from
the wrong man. It felt like an aching wound had opened in her heart that would
never heal. She felt pain and grief over her loss, and guilt that this man
before her could never hold her heart as he wanted.

“I know our
courtship has not been traditional, but I hope you will allow me to indulge
myself for just a moment.” He looked at her with eyes made soft by emotion, and
Bianca had to bite back a sob. If she could not give him her heart, she could
at least give him her kindness. She would not let her grief cloud his joy.

“Bianca,
love, will you do me the very great honor of becoming my wife?”

She
swallowed hard, and forced a wooden smile onto her face.

“Yes,
Anders, I will.”

He bent his
head to kiss her fingers, and Bianca felt a single tear roll down her cheek,
before she hastily wiped it away.

Inisle, the
capital of Toldas, lay nestled in the foothills of a great mountain range,
looking out over a vast wooded plain. The great king Tolda had chosen his seat
of power well, knowing that the mountains were impassable and that the plain
would make obvious the approach of any invading army. Truly, it was a
stronghold of a city.

As it
happened, the plain also made an excellent camping site for a teeming sea of
people, and the mountains kept the city’s inhabitants from fleeing away from
the oncoming horde. It seemed that Inisle made as good a cage as it did a
stronghold.

In Bianca’s
tent, another impromptu council was taking place.

“Now what?”
Felix flung his arms wide. “We’re here. We made it. Brannon has, quite
predictably, closed the city gates. So now what do we do?”

“I say we
leave him in there to rot.” Fain was normally kind, but his history with
Brannon made him vindictive. “Seal up the city and let him stew in there
forever.”

Vivienne
rolled her eyes. “He doesn’t mean it. Just ignore him.”

“It is a
viable option.” Anders rubbed his chin in thought as he spoke. “Not the sealing
up part of it, but the rest. We could choose another capital, and leave Inisle
as an independent city.”

“I would
feel better were Brannon no longer free to make attempts on Bianca’s life.”
Robin spoke dryly, but there was no doubt he was serious.

Bianca drew
her eyebrows together. “I agree, I’d rather have him locked away, but it isn’t
worth storming the city.”

Felix heaved
a sigh, and slouched down on his stool. “Now we’re back to my original
question. What do we do?”

Baines had
been sitting quietly in the corner with Connelly, but at this plaintive
statement he began to chuckle.

Vivienne
raised her eyebrow at him. “Care to share what’s so funny?”

“You
youngsters are always so determined to do something. Take it from an old man.
You almost never regret taking a moment to sit tight, and see which way the
wind blows. Just wait.”

“Wait for
what?” Bianca was curious.

Connelly
leaned forward. “Lass, ye’ve given a choice ta every other soul in the land.
Why not offer a choice ta the city, as well?”

Bianca
smiled. “That’s a wonderful idea.” She stood and brushed her skirts down. “Could
someone go saddle my horse?

She was
winsome, and she was charming, but Robin—backed by Vivienne and Fain—threatened
to tie her up and leave her on the cot if she even thought about addressing the
city personally. She had to admit, it was foolish to go within range of the
walls herself. Still, she hated to send anyone else into danger.

Bryan
volunteered to take the message, so she sent him to bellow through the closed
gates. He wasn’t a trained herald, but he managed to get the point across. He
also managed to dodge the hastily-fired arrows that tried to drive him away
from the walls.

Bianca was
making the same offer to every person in the city, from the most disreputable
guttersnipe to the highest lord.

Come out and
join me, and I will welcome you with open arms.

They waited.
The first to creep out of the city, under the cover of dusk, was a group of
farmers who had been in Inisle to petition the king. Brannon had denied them,
but Bianca greeted them with a smile.

“Now, tell
me why you traveled all this way.”

“It’s m’son,
yer majesty,” one rough old gentleman said. “The army took him and never said
why nor where. I jest wanted to know if he was all right.”

“Where are
you from?” She beckoned Baines to her side.

“Calish, yer
majesty. Boy’s name is Ned. Ned Billings.”

Baines gave
her a broad grin, and sauntered off.

Bianca
escorted her new subjects back to her tent and offered the elder Billings a
seat and a hot cup of tea. She chatted easily with them about the sheep they
raised, and was glad to hear the lambing had gone well that season. After a
short time, she heard a commotion heading for her tent, and Baines’s gruff
voice.

“Well, go
on, lad.”

A young man
came through the tent flap, rather sheepishly, but his hesitation fell away
when he saw who waited for him.

“Da!”

The elder
Billings caught his son in a rough embrace, pounding enthusiastically on his
back.

“Neddie!”

That was the
first, but there were others. They came in the night, so the guards on the
walls could not see them, slipping out through the postern gate. There were
beggars, thin and dirty and tired, but hopeful. There were merchants, who
locked their shops behind them and came to bend the knee to Bianca. There were
individuals sneaking in alone, and families with the parents herding their
children before them. Bianca welcomed them all.

Just before
dawn, as the sky was growing lighter, Marquise Barclay and his entire household
fought their way free of the main city gate. His personal guard held back the
city watch, while the maids and footmen drove wagons through the opening. Then
Barclay and his guards gave up ground step by step, working their way through
the massive gate. All at once they turned and ran, and a moment later the gate
slammed shut with a dreadful clashing sound. A few arrows were hastily fired
behind them, but they sprinted across the open plain and were soon out of
bowshot.

Bianca moved
forward to meet them. The wagons arrived first, and Barclay’s daughters climbed
down. They were shaken by the fight at the gates, but greeted Bianca prettily.
The Marquise himself trotted up, breathless, but smiling.

“I meant to
be here earlier, but I thought I should bring supplies.” At a signal from him,
one of the footmen threw back the cover on one of the wagons. It was packed
full of foodstuffs, and Bianca gave him a nod.

“You would
be welcome either way, my lord, but I must admit, we are grateful for your
largesse.”

“I hope it’s
enough, your majesty.” He bowed to her, and then straightened. “I very much
doubt there will be many more coming from the city.”

Barclay was
right. After the marquise’s defection, Brannon chose to completely seal the
city. Judging from the sounds of conflict coming from the city, it wasn’t a
popular decision, but Brannon’s personal guards were controlling things now,
and they did as the king said. Outside the city walls, Bianca and her subjects
waited to see the outcome. After the initial clamor at the sealing of the city,
a deathly hush fell. For three days the city lay eerily quiet, and the people
outside held their breath.

On the
fourth morning Bianca was awoken by a yelling. When she thrust her head from
the tent, the reason became readily apparent.

Smoke was
rising from Inisle.

All day they
watched. The billows of smoke spread, diminished, and spread again. They could
tell the city was in an uproar, but had no way of knowing the outcome.

By
midafternoon the city quieted. The smoke slowly dissipated, as whoever was
victorious put out the remaining fires. Around sundown, the gates of the city
creaked open, and a figure rode toward them. Behind the mounted figure came a
host of people, pouring forth from the city gate. Bianca’s followers tensed,
grabbing whatever weapons lay nearby—preparing to fight, should the oncoming
force prove hostile. Bianca kept her eyes firmly on the rider in the vanguard.
It was a woman. At first, Bianca didn’t recognize her, but then her face became
clear, and Bianca ran forward toward the advancing horde, with joy in her heart
and a glad cry on her lips.

“Alice!”

The
chambermaid dismounted, and Bianca could see that her clothes were ragged and
dirty, but her face was beaming, and she moved with no sign of pain or injury
when she curtsied low.

“Your
majesty.” Her voice was full of joy. “The city is yours.”

A great
cheer arose from the people that surrounded them, city folk and rebels alike,
as Bianca drew Alice to her feet, embracing her.

“How is it
you’re unharmed?”

“After you
escaped, the palace was in an uproar. Some of Isabelle’s network managed to
smuggle me out of the palace. I was hiding in a cellar until two days ago.”

“I’m so
glad.” Bianca drew back, and looked at Alice “What has become of my father?”

“Imprisoned.
In the morning he’ll be brought out to surrender.”

Bianca took
a deep breath, in wonder and relief.

“How fares
the city?”

“She’ll
live, your majesty.” Alice smiled at her. “She just needs someone new on the
throne.”

***

Robin
watched Bianca pacing nervously in her tent for what he sincerely hoped would
be the last time. She was dressed in her most regal gown, to accept Brannon’s
surrender before the city. He tried in vain to get her to sit, eat, anything
but this frantic pacing, but she would have none of it.

“Just let me
walk, Robin.”

A scratching
came at the tent flap. When Robin lifted it to see who was there, Anders smiled
at him sunnily and held out a basket brimming with food.

“I came to
see if her majesty would allow me to keep her company, until it is time to go.”

Robin did
his best to return the man’s smile. “Perhaps you may convince her to eat. I
have failed dismally.” He stepped aside to let Anders in, and then left the
tent. He could not bear to be around them together. Looking around the camp, he
tried to think of what to do, how to occupy himself. With a wry twist of his
mouth, he headed for Prince Anders’ tent. If the prince was speaking with
Bianca, he could take the chance to speak with the washerwoman. Anders had
insisted on doing the questioning personally, but perhaps Robin could get more
information out of her.

***

Bianca
smiled at the prince, and tried not to let her spirits plummet at Robin’s
departure. Her fiancé took both her hands and let his face beam down at hers.

“What’s this
about you not eating?”

“I can’t,
Anders. I haven’t seen my father since the day he sent me to be slaughtered in
the woods.”

“He can’t
hurt you now, love.”

“I know he
can’t harm me, but…” She heaved a sigh, and flopped down onto her stool,
letting her hands drop from his. “Can you imagine having a father who wanted
you dead? Your own father. He can’t harm me, but I am afraid he can still hurt
me, very much.”

“I can’t
imagine.” He said the words softly. “But I can still understand your fear.”

She tried to
summon a smile for him, but it wouldn’t come. “I wish I could just stay here,
in the tent, until it was all over.”

He reached out
and took her hand again, giving it a gentle squeeze. “No one will force you to
do this, if it’s too much for you. You don’t have to meet him, Bianca.”

She shook
her head. “I do. This one last time, I must meet him. Then it will be over.”

***

Robin was having
a hard time gaining access to the Prince’s tent.

“Our orders
is to let nobody in, unless his highness says otherwise.”

“But you do
not, strictly speaking, work for his highness,” Robin tried to reason with
them. “You work for her majesty, and since I am in charge of the queen’s
personal security, I must be allowed access to the prisoner.”

“Nothin’
doin’.” The guard jutted his already prodigious jaw forward. “I have my orders.
And you ain’t the queen. You just work for her, same as me.”

“Of course.”
Robin rubbed at his forehead. He desperately wanted to avoid returning to
Bianca’s tent while Anders was there. “What if I fetch Princess Vivienne?
Surely a princess, and the queen’s cousin, has enough rank to ask you to allow
me to enter?

“Well…”
The guard waffled, and Robin had to resist the urge to throttle him.

It took a
great deal of restraint.

***

“I can’t
help wishing that you didn’t have to put yourself through this. Is his opinion
of you really that important?”

Bianca let
out an indelicate snort. “If you think his opinion of me matters in the
slightest, you haven’t been paying attention.”

Anders
smiled. “I’m glad. But then why do you feel compelled to meet him?”

Bianca tried
to put her feelings into words. “It isn’t for him. It’s for everyone who
followed me. They need me to face him down. To be strong for them.”

Anders
cupped her face in his hands, and smiled at her tenderly. “You are such a
unique woman, Bianca. I can’t help but admire you. I only wish you’d take half
the care with yourself, that you do of others.”

***

“So you see,”
Vivienne’s voice remained sweet, even though she was explaining herself for the
second time, “you really must let him in.”

The guard
was formerly of the Toldan army, and when he had been unable to reconcile the
princess’s request with his orders, he’d summoned his former commanding
officer.