Page 8 of Mountain of Mirrors and Starlight
Aislinn blinked. “I only believe one of those things.”
Juliana beamed. “And you are right to.” She kissed her daughter’s forehead. “Try and get some rest tonight. You will need it in the morning.”
One by one, the family turned in for the evening, and silence descended over the castle in swathes of palpable darkness. Aislinn’s fae eyes made out more than the average mortal, but there was a pitchy quality to the nights in the mortal world that didn’t exist in Faerie, a graininess to the dark. The sheersilencedidn’t help, either. In Faerie, someone or something was always awake, but here, there was nothing, and they were too far away from the forests to experience its night-time melodies.
Aislinn tossed and turned, but she could not sleep. The terrible quality of the beds didn’t help.
Deciding that sleep was beyond her, at least for now, she got up, wrapped herself in her favourite cloak, and stepped into the hall.
Miriam was on duty outside, but she gave Aislinn nothing but a curt nod and a look of ‘of course it’s you’ and said nothing. She was used to Aislinn sneaking out, and trusted that she wouldn’t go far. Aislinn tiptoed along the stone, cape fluttering behind her like a pair of wings, and slipped into the main hall.
She turned her attention to the tapestries along the walls, to the ones depicting the reign of ‘Good Queen Gwyn’. She was no warrior, by all accounts, but the court seemed to have respected her nonetheless, and mourned her death by illness still.
One of the tapestries depicted the birth of the prince, shown in a halo of gold light. Aislinn groaned; Faeries liked their royals well enough, but they never depicted them asdivine.They were chosen by the earth and wind, their powers proof of their right, their ability to rule.
Aislinn really hoped she got better at magic by the time it came for her to take over, and thanked her stars she’d likely have centuries to practise.
One of the tapestries showed the prince as a young man—a thin, dark-haired, pale-faced creature, who looked like a harsh winter might finish him off. Aislinn wondered if the theory of him expiring and the dwarves merely covering their tracks wasn’t a good one. Oh well, at least it would get her out of the castle.
A light shone down the hall, and Aislinn turned to see a serving woman in her nightclothes, heading across the room with a candle. Their eyes met, and she stilled, looking like she wanted to bolt.
“Your Highness,” she said eventually, dropping into a curtsy. “Can I help you at all?”
Aislinn frowned. “What are you doing up at this hour?”
“The king likes some company at night.”
“Oh,” said Aislinn, sensing she’d touched on a sensitive topic. Faeries rarely cared about sex or affairs, but she gathered mortals viewed things differently. It was best to appear modest in front of them. “I see.”
“It isn’t like that,” said the serving woman, a bony lady with hair streaked with silver. “He just finds it difficult to sleep sometimes. He misses his wife.”
Aislinn doubted that, because she doubted how much respect you could have for a woman if you didn’t view their sex with the same reverence, but she said nothing.
“We all do,” continued the servant.
“And the prince?”
The servant flinched, almost imperceptibly. “Yes, of course. Him too.” She stared at his likeness. “He missed his birthday,” she said quietly. “If he even saw it all.” She pulled down her candle. “Will that be all, Your Highness?”
Aislinn nodded. The servant left. Aislinn stood for a while longer, staring at threaded faces, before eventually returning to her chambers. Sleep came slowly, but it did come, with dreams of woven deer and fabric trees and apples made of gemstones.
Thefollowingmorning,Aislinn’shorse was saddled, and she made the last of her preparations with her family. Her father pulled her aside before she headed down to the stables, checking for an audience.
“Tread carefully, daughter,” he advised. “I have my doubts that these dwarves would have kidnapped the prince without cause. They’re supposed to be a hardy, battle-loving bunch, but they have a strict code of honour. Something doesn’t make sense here.”
Aislinn had been thinking the same, but personally she welcomed the chance to unravel the mystery. She remembered the servant girl flinching at the mention of the prince, before expressing fondness for him, and wondered if that was connected and which reaction was the lie. Beau would be better at this than her, but he hadn’t been there to see.
Hawthorn remained quiet, chewing his lip. There was something else he wasn’t saying.
“Speak your mind, Father.”
“I know this is the first mission you’ve been on since—”
“Father—”
“I’m sure you’d feel better going alone, but I would vastly prefer it if you took someone with you.”
Aislinn groaned. “No.” Taking someone else meant being responsible for someone else, opening them up to danger. She couldn’t watch out for them. She didn’t want to. “I’ll be faster by myself.”
