Page 9 of To Ride the Wind

But after spending the daylight hours prowling the corridors of the palace, searching for people to gently interrogate, Gwen was forced to rethink her plans. She had spent so long doing everything possible to avoid the people of her mother’s court that she had never realized how skilled they were in avoiding her.

It hadn’t only been her melancholy talking when she bemoaned the emptiness of the palace halls. They truly were almost deserted. And when she did manage to corner someone, they slipped away like water between her fingers. She had planned some conversation gambits over breakfast, but she never even got as far as attempting them.

The stark gray stone of the walls and floor mocked her, reminding her inescapably of her mother as she walked dejectedly back toward her room. Gwen would have chosen to alleviate the cold bite in the air with warm colors and soft materials—both on the walls and underfoot. But the queen preferred an austere look.

“Are you all right, Your Highness?” a timid voice asked from behind her.

Gwen ceased her contemplation of the empty wall and swung to look at the newest addition to the palace captives. Not that Miriam could really be counted as new after being at the mountain palace for almost two years. But she still felt new since it had taken the girl over a year to work up the courage to address the princess. And, even now, she still looked around like a startled rabbit before daring so much as a word.

Not that Gwen could blame her. She sometimes felt like a startled rabbit who had wandered into the palace herself. But Gwen had been willing to persist because Miriam was the closest captive to her own age, only a few years younger by her estimate.

“I’m fine,” Gwen said by habit before remembering she wasn’t fine at all. But it seemed too late to take the words back, so she let them stand. “I was just contemplating how lovely this wall would look with a large tapestry hanging on it. And perhaps a carpet underfoot in matching colors? What do you think?”

Miriam cocked her head, examining both the wall and the floor with due seriousness.

“It would be more work to clean,” was her eventual conclusion, the words delivered simply and without rancor.

Gwen blinked. “Yes, I suppose it would be. I didn’t think of that.”

She watched the younger girl vigorously scrub the window on the opposite wall for a moment before speaking impulsively.

“Miriam, am I ill?”

Miriam’s rag stopped moving. “Ill, Your Highness? Are you not feeling well? Should I call for the royal doctor?”

“No, no.” Gwen shook her head impatiently. “I feel fine right now. I mean something bigger.”

Miriam stared at her as if she’d lost her mind, and Gwen couldn’t help laughing at herself. She must sound unhinged. She started again, trying to talk with more sense.

“I feel perfectly healthy. But I’m concerned that I sleep so deeply every night and for so long. I’m wondering if it might be a sign of some illness of which I’m unaware? Perhaps everyone is keeping the truth from me in order not to upset me?”

Miriam’s eyes widened. “Surely not, Your Highness! Could you really be so ill and not know it?”

Gwen shrugged. It was clear from Miriam’s reaction that she had no idea what Gwen was talking about.

“I don’t know.” She sighed and slumped onto one of the chairs lining the inside wall. “Never mind. It was probably a silly thought anyway. I just hate the feeling that I’ve lost so many hours. I’m sure someone could steal into my chamber in the night and make off with every one of my possessions, and I wouldn’t rouse.”

Miriam frowned, her expression concerned. “I would offer to watch over your sleep, but…”

Gwen grimaced, feeling instantly guilty for her complaints. It was rare for one of the servants to speak of nighttime—it would be bad enough if they were caught talking to the princess, but much worse if it was of forbidden topics—but Alma had explained the full situation to Gwen once. The older woman had been among the first captives and had been the first to take pity on the numb, bewildered girl who had taken to roaming the corridors alone once she had lost both Nanny and Easton.

Alma had explained in a hushed whisper that the captives were given free rein of the palace during the day—they needed it to complete their duties, and it wasn’t as if there was anywhere for them to run. Tall mountains encircled the deep valley that held the mountain palace and the city that surrounded it. No one in the city would hide the captives, and only the queen’s people knew how to find safe passage through the mountains. Even Gwen herself didn’t know how they had succeeded when previous generations had failed, and Alma said the captives were all drugged for the journey in, so they didn’t know either. Without knowledge of the route or even appropriate provisions, the mountains would be a death sentence.

And yet, despite the natural forces that kept the valley folk captive in the palace, at night they were locked into a small group of connected storage rooms—ones that were built into the basement level of the palace and lacked even windows. Once the sun was down and the court was abed, the queen didn’t want her captives roaming free.

During the day, the queen liked to pretend her captives were regular servants—a charade she expected them to uphold as well. But at nighttime, they were reminded of their true status. Perhaps it was why Gwen had always felt so connected to them. Since Easton’s disappearance, she had often felt like a captive in the palace herself. But still, she felt bad to have compared her own experience to Miriam’s, however unintentionally.

Miriam resumed polishing the window, but she continued to throw worried glances at the princess. And when she spoke, her words echoed Gwen’s own thoughts.

“I wish I could help you at night, but I suppose we’re both captives in the hours of darkness—me to a locked door and you to sleep.” She paused, shivering. “Perhaps it’s for the best, given the rumors.”

GWEN

Gwen bolted upright, her eyes fixed on Miriam. “Rumors?” she cried, only just remembering to modulate her volume. “What rumors?”

Miriam froze, her eyes widening and her expression growing terrified. “Wh…What? Rumors? I don’t know anything about any rumors!”

“Miriam!” Gwen hissed. “You know something! Clearly you do! Tell me at once!”