Page 52 of Kingdom of Feathers

He ignored them, following Princess Wren through the doorway in question. He looked around in wonder at a large room made entirely of glass, right up to the panels of the domed ceiling. It was unseasonably warm inside, and palm fronds draped lazily over the path. The crunch of pebbles sounded beneath their feet as the princess crossed the space toward a bench situated by a small pond, the surface of which was covered with large flat lily pads. Basil followed her slowly, distracted by the exotic flowers which introduced bright splashes into the otherwise overwhelming impression of green.

“This is an incredible hothouse,” he said. “I’ve never seen one so magnificent.”

The princess’s face softened in a genuine smile which made her eyes sparkle. She nodded her agreement. Clearly this was a favorite place of hers. The hothouse and the garden…Princess Wren seemed to like being surrounded by nature. Basil found himself wondering, irrelevantly, what she would make of his seaside home. He pushed the thought aside.

“How do you keep it so warm at this time of year?” he asked, genuinely fascinated by the phenomenon. The princess gestured to something in the middle of the space, and Basil walked over to have a look. It was a cunningly wrought bronze basin, covered with interlocking beams which gave it the appearance of a wicker basket turned to metal. Inside flickered a flame, and on closer inspection, Basil realized why it was familiar.

“That’s dragon flame!” he exclaimed, noting the hints of green among the weaving orange fire. He scanned a small placard attached to the basin, which described the dragon flame as a coronation gift given to a king whose name Basil didn’t recognize. One of King Lloyd’s predecessors, presumably.

“What an amazing gift,” he said, impressed. He looked over at Princess Wren, and saw that she looked pleased with the effect of her exhibit. There was a hint of smugness in her face, and Basil couldn’t help grinning. It wasn’t like the lofty pride King Lloyd would surely have felt the need to display if he’d been showing off this treasure to a foreign king—if anything, it was endearing.

“Don’t think you’re the only one whose castle has wonders to show off. When you visit Tola, I’ll show you the caverns, and you’ll be just as impressed as I am by your hothouse.”

Princess Wren stilled, looking as surprised as Basil felt by the unplanned invitation. He told himself firmly to focus on the task at hand. They had a great deal of ground to cover before the Mistran princess would be able to visit his kingdom. He had been able to defy his father’s prohibition for visiting the enemy by the simple expedient of outliving him and claiming his crown. But something told him there was no force in Solstice that would convince King Lloyd in his current frame of mind to let his daughter set foot in Entolia.

“We’re straying from the point,” he said quickly, seating himself beside the princess. Some of her hair had already come loose again, joining the ribbons dancing around her shoulders. Basil tried not to notice the way the moisture in the air made the tendrils curl across her exposed collarbones.

He’d have to remember, if he ever received a state visit from anyone he approved of as little as King Lloyd approved of him, to burn any of his grown up sisters’ dresses that had these scooped necklines that seemed to be the fashion in Mistra. It was hardly the way to avoid attracting attention.

“Are you going to answer my question now?” he asked seriously. “About the day your brothers died?”

Princess Wren nodded, her expression somber. She reached for her pocket, but instead of her slate, she pulled out a bundle of papers, tied together with ribbon.

Basil reached out to receive them, but he was momentarily distracted by movement just outside the glass walls. The hothouse opened not into the gardens, but outward, into what seemed to be a small wood. And a now-familiar shape was hovering in the air just beyond the glass.

Basil gave a small chuckle. “We have an audience.”

The princess looked around, startled, but relaxed at sight of the swan. Basil glanced at her in time to see her roll her eyes at the bird, and his grin broadened.

“It’s been following me all morning, actually.”

Looking unsurprised, Princess Wren sighed, but made no attempt to explain. Instead she gestured at the papers in Basil’s hand.

He looked down, momentarily confused by the scrawled notes. The princess leaned toward him, frowning at the topmost paper. Reaching over him, she flipped the page over, exposing the one underneath. As she tucked the top page around the back of the bundle, her hand brushed against Basil’s. He noted in a detached way that her skin still felt cool, in spite of the heat of the room. But a moment later he caught sight of the neat title on the newly exposed page, and everything else fled from his mind.

Attack on Mistran princes and princess—official report

Basil read eagerly, his eyes widening as he took in the details of the bizarre and vicious attack against Princess Wren and her brothers. He winced slightly at the opening comments regarding the visit from the Entolian envoy. It was certainly an unfortunate coincidence of timing. He scanned several pages, his eyes settling on the summary at the bottom of the report.

All those present at the time of the attack report the same thing. The enchantress appeared from among the trees, made accusations against the king, and declared her intention to kill the six princes and the princess. When the guards tried to intervene, she unleashed an enchantment on the entire group which rendered all witnesses unconscious. When the group awoke, it was to discover the enchantress dead, no sign of the princes, and the princess in a state of great distress. An exhaustive search was conducted, but no further external evidence was located. For an account of what occurred during the lost time, investigators were reliant on the testimony of Princess Wren, who was either unable or unwilling to give any kind of coherent account of what happened.

Basil glanced at Princess Wren. She wasn’t looking at the page, but her carefully averted gaze, and the slight flush on her neck convinced him that she had been reading over his shoulder a moment before, and knew that he’d just read the comment about her unhelpfulness. He felt a wave of pity for her. He didn’t understand her secrets, but any fool could see that she was neither oblivious to, nor entirely hardened to, the general disdain her people held for her.

He cast his eyes back up the more detailed report. She’d obviously said something, though. Her written messages to her father had been copied out.

The woman attacked us, it said. Basil’s eyes skated over the part about the woman intending to kill them all in revenge, and how it hadn’t fully worked. Clearly not, as Wren had emerged unharmed. Physically, at least.

“She said she had help,” he read in a mutter. “She talked about others, and extra power. She said ‘they’ll still get their war’.”

Basil frowned at Princess Wren, who was sitting beside him with ramrod straight posture. “Extra power?” he repeated. “From where?” He didn’t wait for a reply, continuing to think aloud. “I suppose that makes sense. Surely that killing curse was much too powerful for one enchantress working alone.”

The princess nodded vigorously. She pointed to another spot on the paper, and Basil nodded.

“Yes, I saw the comment about war.” His frown grew. “So someone was trying to provoke conflict. But if not us, then who?”

He glanced at his companion, noting the defensive look in her eyes. Her comment from that morning suddenly made sense to him, and he drew in a breath.

“That’s why you think it’s your fault! Because it was your comment that made your father think Entolia was behind it, when in fact it wasn’t us.”

---