To begin with, my flying lessons go well. I seem to get stronger. The bruising and pain of transformation fade a little, and the chill caused by the antidote grows less intense. But towards the end of the second week something seems to change. I find it harder to concentrate. My mind, during flight and immediately afterwards, seems dull and disobedient, shrinking to the immediate moment, the next wing-beat, the mere mechanical sensation of wings moving against wind. And I grow forgetful: a couple of times, as we are flying, I struggle to bring to mind the names of the features beneath me. One evening, as we walk back through the gardens, I reluctantly mention my concerns to Siegfried.
‘I can’t afford to stop flying. But what if this potion is affecting me in some other way? And what if it’s permanent?’ I chew my bottom lip, thinking about the flight we’ve just taken. ‘I should be able to remember the words “hill” and “lake” without any difficulty.’
Siegfried puts an arm around my shoulder. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll contact my friend, see if there’s something we need to add to the potion, or some adjustment that should be made to the dose. He’s a clever man. He’ll find a remedy.’
‘But what if he can’t?’
‘He will.’ Siegfried flashes me a smile. ‘I choose my friends carefully.’
‘Perhaps I can meet him. I could describe the symptoms …’
‘I’m afraid not: he doesn’t even live in Solanum any more. A pity, since I’m sure you’d get on well. Here –’ he plucks a perfect red dahlia from the flower-bed next to us and passes it to me – ‘a gift, from one friend to another. You trust me, don’t you?’
‘Of course.’
‘Well, then. Carry on practising, and let me worry about the side effects.’
I don’t really have any choice. My strange forgetfulness, the limitation of my thoughts while I’m on the wing, does not improve. But at least it doesn’t get any worse.
About three days after I disclose my struggles to Siegfried, he suggests a daytime flight. We choose an early hour of the morning, when most of the court will still be in bed from the previous night’s revelries, and we take off from the landing platform. The experiment goes well. Too well: perhaps because my mind is fogged, perhaps in the surprise of seeing the sunlit countryside beneath me, I forget to be cautious. After we land and transform back to our human shapes I walk with Siegfried, still robed, back towards the entrance hall.
Aron is waiting there. His mouth twists into a sneer when he sees us. And only at that point do I remember that I had arranged to go riding with him.
‘Aderyn. I see that you are perfectly happy to fly –’ he glances at Siegfried – ‘given the proper incentive. I congratulate you.’
‘Cousin … I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to –’
‘To deceive me and my sister? Or to keep me waiting here like a flightless lackey until you have time for me?’
I can’t think of a response.
Aron’s face flushes red. ‘No matter.’ He begins to turn away. ‘I certainly don’t need your company, cousin.’
‘Aron, wait –’
He keeps walking.
‘Forget him,’ Siegfried murmurs in my ear. ‘He’s powerless and irrelevant, and he knows it. He’s just jealous that you’ve recovered your ability, and he never can.’
The unkindness of Siegfried’s remark shocks me.
‘But I shouldn’t have let him down. And I haven’t recovered my ability, have I?’
‘No one but me knows that. You forgot an appointment, that’s all. And really, you don’t have time for riding any more. We still have a lot of work to do to build up your strength.’ He brushes his fingers against the back of my hand. ‘Don’t worry about Odette; I’ll talk to her.’
‘But –’
‘Don’t worry.’ He winks. ‘I’ll see you at dinner, Your Grace.’
Back in my rooms I write a note of apology to Aron, but he doesn’t send a reply, and I’m left wondering what kind of revenge he will seek; I know my cousin well enough by now to know that he won’t let it go. I’m prepared, when I go down to the banquet, for the whole court to know I’ve been flying with Lord Siegfried. As Aron has repeatedly told me, there are no secrets here. But what I’m not expecting are the whispers and sideways glances that greet my entrance into the great hall. I’m definitely not expecting the lecherous gazes I receive from some of the male courtiers.
‘I don’t understand,’ I whisper to Lucien as we wait for the royal family to arrive. ‘Everyone else transforms. Why should the fact that I’ve been flying cause so much … speculation?’
‘Give me a moment.’ Lucien disappears into the crowd of courtiers clustered near the door. When he returns a few minutes later, he looks embarrassed.
‘Well?’
‘Apparently a rumour has spread that you and Lord Siegfried …’ He clears his throat and tugs awkwardly on his tunic. ‘That you’re sleeping together.’
I clutch my arms to my chest. ‘But it’s not true.’
Lucien stares at the marble floor. ‘It’s really none of my business.’
‘But it isn’t. I swear by the Firebird’s blood.’ A man I barely know, a minor lord of some insignificant island, is peering at me through a quizzing glass. I glare and turn my back on him. ‘Am I in trouble? Will the king –’
‘No. It would be considered unacceptable for the princess to take a lover. But male members of the royal family – and future members, I suppose – are given more latitude.’
Somehow that doesn’t surprise me.
Lucien is fiddling with the chain that hangs around his neck, still not meeting my gaze. ‘Try not to worry. Everyone will forget about it in a few days. And perhaps I can find out where the rumour started …’
He is silenced by the entrance of the king and queen – there are bandages on the king’s arms, but they can’t entirely conceal the lesions that seem to be spreading rapidly across his skin – followed by Siegfried and Odette. Aron stops next to me, offering me his arm as usual; his smirk tells me everything I need to know.
The next day I go to see Odette. I want her to know that the rumours about Siegfried and me are baseless; I’m prepared, if necessary to tell her everything: about my inability to transform, and about the potions. But when I bring the subject up, she cuts me short.
‘I really don’t care, cousin. And Siegfried has already explained it to me.’
‘He has?’
‘Of course. I understand that you don’t fly often, and that you were worried about having enough strength to make the journey to the sacred lake, but really, you could have told me. I could have helped you, you know.’
Siegfried’s talked to her, as he said he would. But he hasn’t told her the truth.
‘In any case,’ Odette continues, ‘the court is full of malicious tongues. My brother’s included, unfortunately. I simply refuse to listen to them. I despise gossip.’
‘As do I, cousin.’ I lean forward, trying to emphasis my point. ‘But the rumour isn’t true. I would never –’