Part 24 (2/2)
”Then let them do so!”
She took a deep, steadying breath. ”No, Thom, I won't. But I won't let them marry me off, either. You have to trust me on this.”
”But what can you do to stop it?”
In truth, she didn't know. She just knew she would do something. ”I'll find a way,” she a.s.sured him. ”Just wait for a sign to break free of Pinch. He'll be watching you closely.”
Thom shook his head. ”I should just stay with you-”
”You should just keep quiet,” she said, cutting him short.
He stopped talking and stood there, looking at her.
”Kiss me,” she told him impulsively. ”Right now. Like you mean it. Like you might not get another chance.”
He did so, on the mouth, a long kiss that caused Pinch, standing in the doorway, to gasp and mutter in dismay. She closed her eyes and leaned into the kiss. So sweet, so exciting.
”Enough, children,” His Eminence called over the other's shoulder. ”Do we have a bargain or not?”
”We do,” Mistaya said, breaking off the kiss reluctantly but not looking away from Thom. ”Don't we?” she asked him softly.
”We do,” he whispered reluctantly.
His Eminence beckoned Mistaya from the room and shoved Pinch in to replace her. ”Take young Thom aside and wrap him up in a cloak. Bring him out only after the ceremony has started. Do you understand me, Mr. Pinch?”
Pinch glared at him and hustled Thom away. His Eminence watched them go, shaking his head. ”So hard to find good help,” he mused. ”Come, Princess.”
She followed silently, eyes downcast as if she'd become entirely submissive, while her mind worked furiously. If she was to do anything to help herself, she had to free her hands. Everything depended on being able to invoke her magic, and her magic was needed if she was to free herself from the spell that bound them. But how could she persuade His Eminence to release her long enough for her to invoke a spell that would help? And what sort of spell would it take for her to gain freedom? Not just for herself, but for Thom, as well. It would do no good for her to escape without him. She thought of the many forms of magic she had learned from Nightshade. She thought of all the spells that Questor had taught her to cast. Which among them would work to help her here? A battle fought with killing magic would be risky for everyone involved, but what sort of magic could she call upon that would effectively put a stop to the plans of His Eminence and Laphroig?
Then suddenly she knew exactly what she must do. It was so simple, she was surprised she hadn't thought of it earlier. She almost smiled, but managed to keep from doing so by remembering that her plan might still fall flat.
Just at that moment she caught sight of something moving along the wall far ahead, nearly lost in the shadows. It was there and gone in the blink of an eye, and she had not seen enough to be certain, but she thought it might be Edgewood Dirk.
Or not. She grimaced.
They reached the door to His Eminence's office. Crabbit glanced back at her as if to rea.s.sure himself that she was prepared for what waited on the other side, his oblong head c.o.c.ked as he fixed his gaze on her young face. ”It is surely a pity you have to be given to him,” he commiserated. ”You would have been better served with another husband, but such matters are not for either of us to decide. We only do what we must, don't we, Princess?”
She wanted to wring his neck and promised herself that when she got the chance, she would. ”Yes, Your Eminence,” she agreed docilely.
He opened the door, and there stood Berwyn Laphroig. All in black, his pale frog face radiating expectation and a few other unmentionable things, he charged forward to greet her. ”Princess Mistaya!” he purred. ”How lovely to see you again. I trust our last encounter hasn't left any bitter feelings? There mustn't be any of those. But you are here! Dare I hope that you have reconsidered my proposal to wed?”
He certainly didn't waste time with small talk, she thought in dismay. ”I have reconsidered,” she agreed. ”His Eminence has been very persuasive.”
”A well-considered decision, Princess!” He was practically jumping up and down, his froggy eyes bulging, his tongue licking out. ”And Crabbit! Excellent work, Crabbit!” He gave His Eminence a short bow of acknowledgment. ”We must proceed immediately with the wedding, then!”
His Eminence ushered her all the way into the office and closed the door behind them. ”Yes, well, there are a few legal matters to be settled first. Paperwork to be filled out, agreements to be signed, that sort of thing. A consent to the marriage agreed upon and signed by both parties is requisite.”
Laphroig flushed. ”Well, get about preparing it then! Don't keep the Princess waiting!”
His Eminence sat down to work while Laphroig crowded close to Mistaya, looking her up and down in the way a buyer might a new horse, smiling as if all were right with the world. Or maybe just as if all were right with him. She tried not to shrink from him, did her best not to show her loathing, and held herself firmly in check.
”Would it be possible for you to free my hands?” she asked suddenly, looking not at His Eminence, but at Laphroig. ”A bride on her wedding day shouldn't appear in shackles.”
Laphroig glanced down and seemed to see for the first time the swirling ball of darkness that bound her hands. ”What's this, Crabbit?” he snapped. ”What have you done to her?”
His Eminence glanced up, sighing. ”It is for her own good. And yours.”
”Well, I don't like it. How can it appear that consent is given voluntarily if she weds me looking as if she is shackled in some mysterious way? Even the appearance of coercion is unacceptable. Signing the consent is sufficient, I should think. Set her free!”
Craswell Crabbit shook his head firmly. ”That would be immensely foolish, my Lord.”
”I promise not to try to escape,” Mistaya said quickly. ”I won't run from you. You have my word as a Princess of Landover. I have made my decision, and I will see the wedding through to its conclusion. But don't make me marry you like this.”
She tried to sound pathetic and put upon instead of desperate, casting a pleading glance at The Frog.
”Crabbit seems rather convinced that it would better if you did.” Laphroig was experiencing doubts, as well. ”The word of a Princess of Landover ought to count for something, I realize, but you are known for your troublesome nature, Princess.”
”But I promise! What more can I do?”
Laphroig smiled. ”I am sure I could think of something.” He leered. Then he shrugged, refocusing on the matter at hand. ”I can't see that it would do any harm. Not if you give us your promise.”
His Eminence looked at him as if he had lost his mind. ”You are seriously contemplating setting free a young woman with magic enough at her command to burn us all to ash? Have you lost your mind, Laphroig?”
”Watch your tongue, Crabbit! Unlike you, I am not afraid of a fifteen-year-old girl. I have fifty knights waiting just outside the door, and should she prove too troublesome, I might give her over to them for a bit of sport.” He gave Mistaya a look. ”So I don't think we need be concerned.”
”Your Eminence,” Mistaya said quickly, ignoring the threat. ”My word is good. I will not break it. I have more than one reason not to do so, as you well know.” She flicked her eyes toward the office door, reaffirming her commitment to Thom. ”Besides,” she added, ”won't I need my hands free to sign the doc.u.ments of marriage? Won't I need them in order to don my wedding dress? You do have a wedding dress for me, don't you?”
His Eminence stared at her for a long moment. ”Naturally, I shall provide you with a wedding dress, Princess. And since Lord Laphroig seems set on this, I shall set you free. But I warn you, disobedience at this juncture would be a big mistake. The matter is in your hands. Be careful.”
He made a few quick gestures, spoke a few short words, and the swirling ball that held her hands imprisoned faded away. She rubbed her wrists experimentally as His Eminence watched her like a hawk and then allowed them to drop harmlessly to her sides. ”There, you see?” she said.
His Eminence went back to preparing the doc.u.ments of marriage while Laphroig launched into a long, rhapsodic dissertation on the joys that awaited her once she was married to him. She nodded along agreeably, thinking through her plan as she did so. It was a risky gamble, but it was all she could do. If it failed, she was in deep trouble.
She found herself wis.h.i.+ng momentarily that she could use her newfound freedom to break from the room, race to her bedroom, produce the rainbow crush, and stamp on it while calling for her father. But her father might be as much at risk as she was-perhaps more so, if what she had heard His Eminence say earlier was to be believed-so she would die before she summoned help from that quarter.
In any case, there was no time left for second-guessing and nothing to be gained by wis.h.i.+ng for what might have been. She had made her choice, and she was going to have to live with it. If she were given half a chance, things would work out.
His Eminence straightened at his desk. ”All done. Please sign on the lines here and here,” he advised Mistaya and Laphroig, indicating the required s.p.a.ces.
Laphroig signed without reading, impatient to get on with things. Mistaya took her time, skimming quickly but thoroughly, and found the promise not to harm Thom embedded deep in the doc.u.ment in language that was clear and concise. Whatever happened to her, she would have protected Thom to the extent that she was able to do so. She took a deep breath and signed, knowing that if the marriage went through now, it would be binding on her and on her parents under Landover's laws.
She sat back, thinking that if all else failed, perhaps she could leave Landover behind and go back to school at Carrington for the rest of her life. As if As if.
”Now, about my dress?” she queried His Eminence.
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