*
Wren pushed a branch out of his way, only to have it slip loose and snap back. It hit him squarely in the forehead. “Ow!” he exclaimed, holding a palm to the place where it stung and using his other to roughly push it away again. Ducking underneath the branch this time, and still holding his head, he carefully made his way down the steep embankment to the pool where he met with Lise.
“Hello?” he called at the bottom, looking around.
The clear water of the pool sent rippling trails of light dancing around the forest. He set his bag on the ground and sat down next to it to wait. After a moment, he rummaged around inside the bag and drew out a small hatchet. He got to his feet and began hacking away at young saplings to start a fire.
When he had a satisfying pile, he put in a bit of tinder and struck his firestones together. Several tries later, he had a flame going. He blew on the tiny fire, feeding it smaller twigs as he had seen Rhys do when the younger boy had dragged him out camping in their younger days. When it seemed as though it would continue to burn on its own, he left it to take out the rest of his supplies from the bag. He took out two mugs and a leather pouch of a special concoction he’d gotten his mother to make.
Smoke filled the air, making Wren cough and hack uncontrollably. He backed hastily away from his fire, staring at it in disbelief as smoke poured out of it. He rushed forward, fanning at it with his hands, trying to make the flame catch better and stop the smoke, but it only resulted in more smoke.
He heard laughter behind him, and he whirled around. Lise stood there watching him, an amused glint in her eye.
“Were you trying to signal me?” she asked innocently.
“I, er – ” Wren began. “Well, it seems to have worked.”
Lise tittered behind her hand again. “It would seem so. I could hardly ignore such a thing. I thought the forest might be burning down.” She paused and looked around as if checking to see if anyone could overhear them before whispering loudly, “You have to use dry wood,” she told him with a wink. “The wet stuff is really smoky.” She spied the two mugs and the pouch on the ground. “What are you up to?” she asked, bending gracefully and retrieving one of the cups. She held it out to him, raising an eyebrow.
“It’s a surprise,” he told her, taking the cup from her outstretched hand and setting it back down on the ground. “You’ll see as soon as I get this fire straightened out.”
Lise helped him get the smoke under control and once they had a more civilized flame going, Wren poured water from his bag into each of the mugs and set them over the fire to heat.
Lise watched him curiously but didn’t ask for further explanation. When the water began to bubble, Wren carefully removed the mugs and poured half the contents of the pouch into each cup, stirring with a spoon. The water turned a thick smooth muddy color. Both of Lise’s eyebrows were now sky-high.
“Is that…” she began, grabbing at the mug greedily as Wren handed it to her.
“Careful; it’s hot,” Wren warned, smiling at her enthusiasm.
Lise paused only long enough to blow on the top of the contents, using the brisk forest air to chill the beverage, before taking a dainty sip. “Mmm,” she moaned in appreciation as the warm liquid slid down her throat. “Is this hot chocolate?”
“Mmm-hmm,” Wren agreed, “with a touch of mint. It’s my mother’s famous recipe. The chocolate is difficult to come by, but my father is really into plants. I thought…”
“You thought you’d put me under your chocolate spell?” Lise asked, giggling.
She wrapped both hands around the mug, warming them, and let it sit for a moment. Wren came to sit next to her, and they sat in silence for a long moment, gazing up through the clearing at the sky.
“How are things going for the Princess?” Lise asked after a while.
Wren tilted his head from side to side. “People still seem to be falling for the rumors.” He pondered a minute. “I suppose that those who don’t actually spend any time with her personally can’t really be blamed for believing something that they’re told about a person they don’t know, but it would be nice to think that they would give her the benefit of the doubt, especially because she’s the Princess. Not to mention what she did for the people.”
“What has she done?”
“You don’t know?”
Lise smiled. “I spend most my time in these woods. I try not to concern myself with the goings-on of the rest of society.”
“You must be pretty secluded,” Wren couldn’t stop himself from commenting. A person would have to be very out of touch to have not heard about the Princess’s sacrifice.
“I am lucky enough to have inherited a small plot of land where I have made my home.” She glanced at him shyly through her eyelashes. “I have no family left so have chosen to live a life alone. Before meeting you, I had not been in contact with people for many years.”
Wren nodded, gratified that she had chosen to share the rare glimpse into her personal life. Alone with no husband, he thought happily. To Lise, he said, “Although Phoenix was a baby and didn’t exactly make the choice, she sacrificed her talent so that the great plague – the Bricrui – could be stopped.”
Lise interjected. “I do remember hearing about that.”
“After that, she had the uncanny knack for knowing the right thing to do and say – exactly what she is being castigated for now. And everyone is forgetting all the good it did. Not to mention that she heals people.”
“She does?”
“At least, that’s what we think. My mother says it’s a side-effect of the spell to heal the Bricrui; that part of that spell was interwoven into her very being so that even though she no longer has talent, she’s still able to help heal wounds. No one has ever been able to detect it, but cuts mysteriously stop bleeding in her presence, and sickness seems to clear up miraculously.”
“Did she ever use this for the people?” Lise asked.
Wren didn’t answer right away. “Yes and no,” and replied. “She spent as much time as she was able visiting the infirmaries around the city and beyond, on the slim chance that it was actually her doing it. With her schedule as the Princess, though, there was only so much time she could spend in the presence of the ill in the wild hope that she might be doing them some good simply by being there. Without being able to prove it, it would sound rather awkward to have claimed.”
“I suppose so,” Lise answered thoughtfully. “Did the Queen ever try and train her daughter’s ability?”
“The King and Queen did everything they could to try and find a way to get Phoenix’s magic back, or find any facet of it still in existence.” He shook his head in pity. “I swear they still feel guilty for having taken away her talent.”
“As any parent would,” Lise nodded. “I cannot imagine.” She took another sip of her hot chocolate, by now cooled to the point of being comfortable to drink.
Wren turned his attention to his own beverage and managed to down almost half of it before she spoke again.
“How go your studies? Is your paper progressing? Hopefully your other projects are going better than our search for a unicorn.” She winked at him.
Wren smiled. The woman seemed genuinely interested in his work, a rare thing for his line of study, and he dove into the subject with abandon.
When they had exhausted all avenues of his latest project, exploring and debating the issues along with it, they sat in silence once more. Wren was impressed by Lise’s knowledge, especially for one who lived so far away from the city and seemed content to spend her time wandering the woods. Her sharp mind countered many of his theories, pointing out inconsistencies and forcing him to further delve into the mysteries to find answers to her probing questions. She seemed to have a unique view of times long past. There was no doubt she was making him a better scholar.
He glanced over at her out of the corner of his eye. The beautiful curve o
f her chin that held those sumptuous lips that challenged him. The eyes that laughed with girlish amusement at his antics, yet held so much wisdom beyond. A better scholar indeed. And no doubt a better man. He leaned towards her, his courage bolstered by the romantic gesture of chocolate and the engaging conversation. He watched her, moving to go in for a kiss.
She turned towards him but then suddenly looked down. “I’m afraid I must go now,” she said, interrupting his forward motion with a hand on his chest. She stood and was across the clearing before he registered that she was leaving. She paused at the edge of the woods and looked back.
“I don’t know if it’s a good idea for me to come back here anymore,” Lise said, not meeting his eye.
“Why not?” he asked, flustered by her sudden change.
“It’s not good for either of us.”
“Don’t you enjoy spending time with me?”
“Of course,” she said, lifting her eyes to finally meet his. “I enjoy it too much. That’s why you won’t find me again.” She whirled away, her skirts billowing out around her as she disappeared into the woods.
Wren raced to follow her, to try and talk some reason into her, but she was gone. “Lise!” he called into the empty trees, but there was no response. He spent close to an hour waiting in the clearing, hoping that she’d change her mind, but she didn’t return.
Finally, as the light through the treetops thinned and threatened to leave him stranded in the forest for the night, he gathered his things. He picked up the cup she had used, staring down at it morosely. The last remnants of chocolate congealed at the bottom, making a shape like a horse leaping. Leaping to get away from something…apparently me, he thought glumly and stuffed it into his bag.
The walk home seemed longer, his thoughts heavy on his mind. Wren was in an even worse mood as he arrived at the city, contemplating the possible reason she could have for not seeing him anymore. The most likely reason he could think of was that she lied and was really actually married. His mood lowered even more. He tried to convince himself that maybe she needed him to rescue her from some horrible situation. Maybe, her saying that she couldn’t see him anymore was really a cry for help. Maybe…
Wren strode into the palace, still lost in thought, and almost ran into the servant girl who was rushing towards him.
“Master Wren,” she paused to curtsy to him. “Please come to the Great Hall. There’s been an incident and your presence has been requested.”
“What kind of incident?” he asked, wondering what it could possibly be that he would be summoned for. He had a sudden horrible thought and his heart leapt to his throat. “Are my parents alright?”
The girl looked flustered. “What? Oh, yes, Lady Katrina and Lord Aaron are fine. I don’t know what the details are, only that you need to go there. The whole court has been summoned.”
He hustled along the hallways and creaked open the doors to the great hall. There was already a crowd inside. It looked as though every courtier in presence was jammed in. The Queen was currently listening to a young man, who was holding his hat to his chest and had his eyes glued to the floor.
Wren spied his mother and pushed his way through the crowd to get to her side. She reached out a hand to him as he neared and squeezed his in her own.
“There’s been an attack,” she whispered to him, “and an accusation has been made against the Princess.”
“What?” Wren choked loudly, earning him glares from several people around them who were straining to hear what was going on in front. Wren lowered his voice. “What do you mean?”
“A man was found collapsed earlier today,” his mother murmured into his ear, keeping an eye around them, “and the healers believe that he’s been put into some sort of coma by an attack to his mind. They can’t bring him out of it.”
“Why would the Princess be blamed for that?” Before the question had passed his lips, he realized the answer. The rumors that were being spread were about her ability to get into people’s minds. It wouldn’t be a far leap to get to believing that she could actually manipulate and attack one’s mind too.
Katrina saw understanding register on his face and gave him a pointed look. She glanced up at the boy in front of the Queen. “That’s the stable-boy who saw Phoenix around the time of the attack. The Queen is trying to determine whether or not someone can account for the Princess’s whereabouts.”
“That’s absurd. She should just tell people how ridiculous it is to think that Phoenix had something to do with it; she would never!”
“We know that, but having an alibi for the time in question would put even the doubters’ minds to rest.”
“I suppose,” Wren muttered noncommittally. He turned his attention to the boy, who was now rubbing his toe into the stone floor as if squashing something into it.
“She left ‘round morning meal,” he was saying.
“And did anyone accompany her?”
The boy squished his toe some more. He seemed to be warring with himself. After a long moment he answered, “Not for that ride.” He finally looked up at the Queen and added almost pleadingly, “But she was back soon after and then the visitors joined her for a tour through the city.”
Wren could tell that it was difficult for the boy to admit that she was alone during that time. As one who saw the Princess frequently for her daily rides, no doubt he knew better than to believe the nonsense that was being said about her, and it pained him that the truth would not prove her innocence. Not that it disproved it either, but in the eyes of the nobles, it was enough to prolong their suspicion.
The Queen closed her eyes for a split second longer than a blink, but her expression did not change. “Thank you, Robert,” she dismissed the boy. He scurried away, obviously glad to be out of the center of attention. The Queen turned her attention to a nobleman standing in the front of the crowd. “Baron Winters, you realize that such an accusation is an extremely serious matter.” It was a statement rather than a question.
The man chose to answer it regardless. “The fact that someone was attacked through mind-magic – witchery! – is a serious matter, Your Highness. You know as well as I that there have been suspicious rumors floating around.”
The Princess was standing behind her mother, her expression carefully controlled, but Wren could see the pain in her eyes. His anger towards her softened a bit. He tried to catch her eye to smile at her so that she would know that she had a friend in the crowd, but she refused to look at anyone in particular.
Wren knew that the Queen was in a difficult position. She would be forced to investigate the matter, but doing so would make it seem to many as though Phoenix was already guilty. She finally spoke.
“They are only that: Rumors. The Princess has done nothing wrong,” the Queen said, holding up her hand to stop the outburst from the man. “I don’t think any would argue that she certainly would not harm someone knowingly.” The look she gave the man made it clear that if he continued to accuse her daughter, he’d better not be saying that she had malicious intent. The Queen went on, “However, in the face of these matters, I have no choice but to ask my daughter to remain in her quarters during the course of a formal investigation.” She nodded, and Phoenix left her side, making her way through the courtiers towards the royal suites. Though their presence was usual for the Princess, the entourage of guards that followed in her wake seemed somehow more meaningful.
Wren watched her go, and then saw a familiar face across the court. Rhys met his eye and the two boys exchanged an incredulous look. This was not good.