The Crystal Heart (18 page)

‘These are just words, my lady. Actions speak louder than words. The truth is that he is here, that he has risked everything to escape and come here. He was not a traitor before. You told me so yourself. He could not be a traitor now.'

I knew Amadey was just being kind. I had seen Kasper's eyes – there was no love there. Eyes of stone, the barmaid had said. I had thought her a fool; now I knew it was I who was the fool. My father had been right. Kasper was not what he once was.

How could I have ever imagined that it would be the same as before? How could I have been so naive as to think that imprisonment would not have changed him, would not have eaten at his very soul? Those eyes like stone in a face hollowed by suffering – the scars near his mouth, the harshness of his prison haircut, the wary way he carried himself – everything spoke of cruelty inflicted upon him, of pain endured, of endless desolation. The careless bright hopeful youth of the woods had gone
forever, replaced by a hard-faced man, and who was to wonder at it? Spat on as a traitor by his own people, ignored and abandoned by mine, he had held out as long as he could, for my sake.

I knew that, because I knew how long the light in the crystal had lasted. He must have had hope then. Hope that I would save him, as he had saved me. Hope that I would have the courage to defy my father and come to his aid, despite the promise I had made. Yes, I had given my word that I would not try to contact him, had given my word that I would forsake him if his life were spared. Why had I not broken it? Why had I not left this place long ago and moved heaven and earth to find him? It wasn't just for fear of what my father might do, I knew that now. It was pride – an unforgivable pride that thought the honour of a word more important than love. I am truly my father's daughter.

‘You are right, he is not a traitor,' I said. Amadey's face lightened at these words, only to fall again when I added, ‘It is I who am the traitor.'

‘My lady!' protested Glarya. ‘You must not say such things. You, a traitor! Why, you are the finest, kindest, sweetest, bravest –'

‘No, Glarya. I am a heartless coward,' I said. ‘I knew they could not be trusted, yet I still allowed myself to believe them. And when he was most in need I did nothing.'

‘That is not true! Without you, he would be dead,' cried Amadey. ‘They would have hung him if you had not interceded and given your word of honour!'

‘I spit on my word! I spit on my honour! I betrayed our love,' I cried. ‘I let them turn him into this … this man of stone. If I had only –'

‘If you had only what, Princess?' Amadey said sharply. ‘What could you have done? Storm the prison? Force the Council to give him up? How? With what army? Even if you'd been able to get out of here without your father knowing – even if you'd got within just a hundred miles of that prison – do you really think that they would not have known about it? Do you think they would have allowed him to live, then? He is only alive because you have kept your word, not in spite of it.'

‘What Amadey says is absolutely true,' Glarya added, anxiously. ‘You did all you could, my lady. You gave him the crystal. It gave him hope. It gave him light. And it has brought him here at last.'

‘Too late,' I whispered. ‘It is too late for both of us.' I wept, the sobs tearing out of me like the sharp claws of goblins. In my mind came the memory of the song I'd heard in my dream, long ago in the Tower, the sad song I hadn't understood then but understood all too bitterly now.

‘It is never too late,' said Amadey, fiercely. ‘Never, while you and he still draw breath. And while the lady Glarya and I are here to help you.'

‘Oh, yes!' broke in Glarya, fervently. ‘I will do anything, anything for you, my lady.'

‘I ask for nothing, for there is nothing to –' I began, but Glarya broke in.

‘Please, my lady. You spoke of pride preventing you from seeing truly. Isn't this just another form of pride?' She added, a little anxiously, as if afraid she'd gone too far, ‘I don't mean to be rude, but I just want to say I think – I think you should accept the help of true friends.'

‘I do not deserve what you offer,' I murmured, with a lump in my throat. ‘But, yes, then I gladly do ask for your help. But what am I to do?'

‘You cannot change the past, but you can still determine your future,' said Amadey. ‘It is simple. You are the Princess. You can take your fate in your own hands.'

‘So simple!' I said sarcastically. ‘And what would you have me do, exactly?'

‘Go to Kasper,' said Amadey. ‘Tell him that you love him.'

‘But he does not love me …'

‘Whatever his lips said, is not the truth of his heart.'

‘And you know this how?' I asked. ‘Even the
feyin
do not have the skill of mind-reading.'

‘I am a simple man, my lady,' said Amadey, ‘but I do know one thing: true love can never be torn out from the heart.'

I could not speak for an instant. The hope I thought had died had rekindled at these words, and I could not say anything for fear of bursting into tears again. And then something odd happened. Glarya, who had been gazing at Amadey with a wistful longing she no longer bothered to
conceal, murmured, ‘My lady, the Erlking and his son will be here in three days.'

I swallowed. ‘Yes, I know. The Erlking will be angry and so will my father. But I cannot marry the Erlking's son. Even if … even if Kasper no longer cares for me, I cannot.'

‘No, you cannot, my lady,' agreed Glarya.

‘But he will be angry. So angry! Twice this family has rejected the Erlking's kin. He will not forgive us.'

‘Not usually he might not,' she said. ‘And that is why I think I must send word to the Erlking myself.'

Amadey and I both stared at her. ‘You?' I managed to say. ‘Whatever do you mean, Glarya?'

She flushed. ‘Nobody here knows this, but I am related to the Erlking and I know something of his ways. He cannot simply be told that you will not marry his son, or he will indeed be very angry and there will be enmity between your country and his. But if he himself frees you from the engagement, then it is a different matter. The only way the Erlking will understand is if he is told by his kin.'

I looked at Glarya with new eyes. Those lords and ladies who looked down on her, those snooty staff who snubbed her – if they had known of her blood line, however distant …

‘I did not want anyone to know,' Glarya said, with a shy shrug. ‘It is not your blood that determines the person you are, but what you do in your life.'

‘It hardly sounds like
feyin
philosophy,' I said, with a catch in my voice.

‘There are all kinds of
feyin
, my lady,' said Glarya, with great dignity. ‘And who is to say what is the right sort and what is the right way?'

‘Who, indeed,' I echoed. Impulsively, I kissed her on the cheek. ‘Oh, Glarya, you are truly wonderful!'

‘Isn't she just?' said Amadey, and his expression was of such open adoration that Glarya flushed again.

‘Now then,' Glarya said quickly, ‘with your permission, my lady, I will leave at once for the Outlands. I will send a message to the Erlking through my family. It will be the quickest way.'

‘You hardly need to ask my permission, dear Glarya,' I said. ‘You have my deepest thanks.'

‘And if you will agree, I will accompany you,' said Amadey, his eyes on her face, ‘for I would have you stay safe, my lady Glarya.'

‘I told you, I'm no lady,' Glarya said, tossing her head, ‘and I think the Princess needs you here to –'

‘No, I do not. What I do here I must do on my own,' I said softly. ‘Take Amadey with you – it would ease my heart to know you are in such good company.'

‘Then, gladly.' Glarya smiled impishly at Amadey. ‘You may receive quite a shock – the Outlands aren't the city, you know.'

‘And pleased I am to hear it,' said Amadey, ‘for I'm no city boy myself. The air here is much too rarefied for my taste.'

‘Then let us delay no further,' Glarya said, taking up her cloak. Just as they reached the door, she turned to me. ‘We will hurry back, my lady, never you fear.'

‘I do not fear,' I said. ‘Not anymore.'

For the first time in a long time, I felt truly free.

The room was not what I had expected, from what I'd seen of the Palace so far, with its splendid opal halls lit by glittering salt-crystal chandeliers. This was a small, almost cosy, room lined with books. The Prince gestured for me to sit, and sat down in his turn. He was only a short distance from me and we were alone. It was clear he was not expecting an attack. When I struck, I would at least have the advantage of surprise. Even if that only lasted a moment, it might be enough.

There was no pleasure in the thought, no feeling of any kind. Behind his head, on the wall, was a small portrait, and that disturbed me far more than the thought of what I was about to do. It showed a woman with red hair and green eyes – a woman with a striking likeness to the Princess, only a little older, wearing the same crystal heart pendant around her neck.

The Prince saw me looking at it, and smiled. ‘They are very alike, my wife and my daughter, are they not?'

I did not meet his gaze. ‘Yes, Sire.'

‘I loved her, you know. Even though our natures were so different, that love was real. Whatever anyone has said to you.'

I looked at him. ‘Yes, Sire.'

‘Has anyone spoken to you of this?'

I hesitated. The hard eyes of the Prince of Night, the same shade as my own, but with the narrow pupils of true-blood
feyin
, were fixed on my face. I swallowed and nodded.

‘The Commander,' he said, startling me.

‘I'm – I'm sorry, Sire. I do not under–'

‘The Commander must have spoken to you of it.'

I quickly collected my wits. ‘He did, Sire, though I did not pay much attention.'

‘I don't suppose you did,' he said, a strange expression flickering in his eyes. ‘In the circumstances, it is not surprising.'

I remained silent, not trusting myself to speak.

‘I hear they treated you badly, the barbarians.'

I looked back at him steadily. ‘I survived, Sire.'

‘Yes, thanks to my daughter.'

I swallowed. ‘Yes, Sire.'

‘We did not seek your ill-treatment, Bator,' the Prince said, in a voice that might almost have been kind, if a
feyin
can truly be said to harbour such a feeling.

‘No, Sire. I know that.'

‘You rescued my daughter, and for that I will always be grateful. You do understand that?'

‘Yes. I do.'

‘That is why you are sitting here now,' the Prince said, steepling his fingers, ‘and why I have not simply taken
these papers of yours and had your throat slit from ear to ear. I do not like traitors, Kasper Bator.'

‘No, Sire, I am sure you do not.' A cold fury was mounting inside me, but I managed to suppress it. I took the package of papers from my shirt pocket. ‘But I think you will be interested in these, Sire.'

‘We shall see.' The Prince did not come out from behind the desk, as I'd hoped, but just reached out a hand for them. He opened the package and extracted the sheets of rice paper. ‘Lord Parigan has told me the story of how you came by these and of how you escaped. But I want to hear it from your own lips.'

I told him the story the Commander suggested. The Prince listened, expressionless and unmoving. When I finished, I expected him to ask questions, but he only nodded and looked at the sheets again. ‘Well, if these are what they seem to be, they are indeed valuable.'

‘Which is why they don't come cheap …' I began.

The Prince held up a hand. ‘There is something that puzzles me, and it is another reason why I have spared your life once more,' he said, putting down the papers. ‘You do not have the smell of a traitor, Kasper Bator. You swear you have not come for my daughter?'

‘Sire, I have not!' I said, more explosively than I had intended.

‘Yes, I think you are telling the truth.' The Prince smiled and added softly, ‘And that pleases me, for my daughter has promised to marry the Erlking's son in three days.'

The words sank to my stomach like hot lead, but I mastered myself enough to say, ‘And I am not the one to ask her to break it.'

‘Good,' he said, watching me. ‘But why?'

Unease crept along my veins. ‘Why what, Sire?'

‘I saw the love between you and my daughter. It could not be, but it was strong.' He paused. ‘Love is a great power, even stronger than death. So why did it go?'

I had not expected this. ‘Stronger than death it may be, Sire. But it is not stronger than life.'

For the first time, something approaching surprise flickered in his eyes. ‘Explain yourself.'

‘Life brings lessons with it, Sire. Hard lessons, such as the true nature of things and people.'

He gave me a long glance. ‘Ah! I see now. Why would a man like you become a traitor? Because of these
lessons
they made you learn.' He paused. ‘The lies they told you.'

Black agony gripped my chest. ‘I do not know what you mean, Sire.'

‘They told you she betrayed you, that she led us to your hiding place. Yes?'

I nodded, unable to speak.

‘They lied and you believed them. Why?' His voice hardened, his eyes glared. ‘Answer me!'

The pain was almost unbearable. ‘I didn't at first. I believed in our … But then they showed me proof that could not be denied.'

‘Not denied, perhaps. Faked, certainly.' The Prince smiled.

I could feel the pain within me turning into murderous rage. I began to rise from my chair.

‘Sit down!' roared the Prince, startling me so much I did as he bid. He picked up the papers. ‘They have turned you inside out till you no longer know who you are. Yes,
you believed my daughter had betrayed you. But somewhere deep inside, you understood whose betrayal it truly was. The men who locked my daughter up for ten long years and who lied to your people, who tortured you and destroyed the hope and love and all that was good in you, and who have profited handsomely from it all – you hate them, don't you?'

His eyes were locked on mine, and I felt the force of his will like the brightest of lights, searching fiercely in the dark. I bit down on my lip so hard I could taste blood. ‘Yes.'

‘But you hate us, too.'

The time for evasion and half-truths had passed. ‘Yes.'

The Prince rose from his seat and came towards me. I scrambled to my feet, my hand already clenched around the needle case. But the Prince walked past me and opened the door.

‘Come in, my daughter.'