I felt the wind get knocked out of my sails. I had prided myself on being my own person, setting my own quests, and vowed to not be manipulated by my mother. It was why I didn’t immediately contact her to tell her I was safe. But it seemed I never needed to. I had plenty of manipulators pulling on my puppet strings.
“You could have told me from the beginning that this was all her doing,” I said.
“Ah, but you were doing so well on your own. It was great watching you fly without her hovering and without Lorn’s instruction. And then you have to ask yourself, Honor. Would you really have come if she told you to? Especially considering this kingdom is your birthplace. There are a lot of ghosts from the past you have to face.”
I sat on one of the unloaded trunks and stared at the leather sole of my borrowed boots. There was a speck of dirt, and I rubbed it against the grass to try to get it off while I gathered my thoughts. Bravado was right. I may have ended up here on my own, but maybe not as fast or with as much help.
I looked around at the bustling troupe members, all in their colorful garb. Weapons were partially for show, but they were also real. They really were a small, mobile army.
“What’s the plan, then?” I asked a tad listlessly. My previous excitement had dissipated, but not by much.
Bravado reached into the trunks and was pulling out wrapped bundles as he continued to search for something. “The palace, possibly because of what you saw this morning, has closed its ballrooms and dining rooms for the day. They’re moving everything outdoors, keeping us further at bay as the first king is due to arrive today. So we have to improvise some new acts.” He unwrapped a leather bundle and revealed six flat blades. “How do you feel about throwing knives?”
“I love them.” I grinned, feeling my adrenaline surge at the idea.
“I thought you would.”
Thud! The knife tip stuck into the wooden target, the handle shaking ever so slightly.
“Your aim is off,” Rumple said.
“It hit exactly where I wanted it to.” I lined up the flat throwing knives in my hand and positioned my feet so I was square against the giant wheel.
“Then your brain is off,” he grumbled.
“The goal isn’t to hit the center,” I reminded him.
“That’s just foolish. You always want to hit the center.”
I released in rapid fire, and with each one, an outline started to form on the target board. A human outline.
Sorek, who had been leaning against a tree watching me, whistled between his teeth. “That sure is an impressive aim you got there.”
“Thank you.” I grinned. “Now, I just need you to stand over there and let me throw knives at you.”
Sorek coughed and moved away from the tree. “I think I hear Humperstink calling for me.”
“Get back here,” I yelled after him. “Wasn’t there once an act called the Dueling Divas?” I said, referring to the faded poster I’d seen Bravado pull out of a prop trunk earlier.
“There was.” Sorek seemed to get a bit misty-eyed. “They were orphans, like you. I took them under my wing. They had practiced for years under me before either of them had ever been allowed to become a human target.”
“You’re saying you don’t trust me?” I scoffed and sent another knife flying toward the target. The thud was satisfying, and so was watching his eyebrow raise even higher.
“I’ve learned to not trust anyone,” Sorek answered, and held out his hand for a blade. I handed him one. “You live longer.” He aimed and let go. Sorek’s blade landed squarely next to mine, the flat blades butted up next to each other as if they were one.
“Now, that is impressive.” I whistled.
“I know. Like I said, I’ve had a lifetime of practice. But I’m not standing against that target.”
I chewed on my lip and stared up at the large man. He was still wearing the same vest he always wore, and never seemed to change into other clothes. He certainly wasn’t affected by the weather. I sighed as I pulled at the gold leotard and red and gold puffed shorts I was wearing. My red leather mask made my face sweat in the sun, but I had to stay disguised. I’d much rather have a mask I could slip off when I needed to wipe my face than deal with more face paint. If only I could lose the bright red lip stain that made me feel more like a lady of the night than an entertainer. When I first saw my reflection, I thought my lips were the color of fresh blood. But once I got over the macabre illusion, I didn’t mind the deep red color on me.
Late risers made their way into the gardens for afternoon tea, and a few milled about. By the afternoon, the space was filled with nobles roaming and looking for entertainment.
Paper lanterns were strewn throughout the gardens on strings, casting more splashes of color and waiting to be lit come evening. Guests came and visited Madame De Le Cour, as much to stare at the giant ogress as to have their fortunes told.
Sorek was busy bringing small groups in through the menagerie tent to see the water sylphs, pixies, and other rare and exotic creatures, some tame, and others quite deadly—like the unicorns.
The unicorns were beautiful, ethereal, and I was thrilled when Humperstink had given me a private tour and let me draw close to a family of unicorns. I’d wanted to reach out and run my hand down the foal’s buttery soft hide, but I’d immediately recoiled when I’d felt the familiar darkness within me reach for their magic. I’ll never forget how the mother unicorn turned to attack me, her horn missing my face by mere inches. I had fallen backwards onto the floor and backed away, the whole while tears slipped from my eyes.
I couldn’t help but wonder why I was made this way. What twisted thing was wrong with me that I couldn’t control the drive to possess other’s magic?
Since then, I stayed far away out of reverence for these magical beasts. I would never want to unintentionally harm them.
Standing between the ogress’s new fortune telling tent, and Bravado’s table of magical crystals, I watched a group of the princesses enter the menagerie tent across the way. They had broken off into groups of three and the crowd followed wherever they went.
There was a lag as the crowd of nobles walked around the camp, waiting for the princesses to come out, no doubt so they could swoop in and begin their evening of wooing. The princesses didn’t seem to be affected by the fact that a dead guard was found in their room.
Who had killed the guard, and how exactly did he die?
And why was the king worried about their slippers?
A throat cleared, and I turned to see a young nobleman standing in front of my wheel. I had noticed that most of the princesses were avoiding him, despite being of suitable marrying age for any of them.
His pants were nicely tailored; a large gold button on his jacket depicted his family crest, which looked like a buck with antlers with red rubies for eyes. His hair was sandy brown, his eyes a warm hazel, and he had a becoming smile.
“I’m sorry, my lord.” I turned and gave a curtsy. “What may I do for you? Would you like to try your hand at the wheel of death?” I pointed to my spinning target wheel. “If you win, you could have your fortune told by Madame De La Cour, the only ogress fortune-teller in all the kingdoms.” I waved my hand toward the ogress’s tent. “Or perhaps a crystal charm to capture your favorite memories.” I waved toward Bravado’s table where he was using his magic to instill the memory of an older man’s first kiss into a rose-shaped crystal. It was fascinating to watch Bravado pull the memory out of the gentleman’s mind. It played above his head for all to see before being siphoned into a crystal.