Page 50 of To Ride the Wind

Gwen gaped at her. “That’s why you’re bringing a lowlander prince here? Marrying him is supposed to reverse the enchantment?” She frowned. “But love is usually the key when it comes to godmother objects. You can’t possibly think I love this stranger or he me?”

“Love?” The queen’s brows rose. “No, who could ever love you?”

Gwen froze, icy tendrils creeping over her. She didn’t know why the words shocked her after everything her mother had said over the years. But they hit her in a part of her heart she didn’t know was still unguarded.

“A prince was just the excuse at first,” the queen continued, “since I hadn’t found a way to reverse it by the time you came of marriageable age. I told them it could only be a prince and that stalled them for a while. And then somehow they found…” She broke off, clearly seething too much to finish the sentence.

Gwen frowned at her mother, trying to understand what she wasn’t saying. Had it not been the queen herself who had chosen the prince and insisted on Gwen’s marriage? Had someone actually called her mother’s bluff? Had it been one of her trading teams? Gwen almost wanted to laugh at the idea of her mother’s horror when her people returned in triumph with a prince in tow, expecting to be rewarded.

But if they had found a prince and brought him into the mountains, where was he now?

The queen looked up at Gwen, her eyes narrowing. “As always, I turned the situation to my advantage. You would do well to remember that no matter what happens, I will always find a way to control the situation. The time had nearly come in any case, and the princeling has proven useful and will have further uses still. Including him in the enchantment produced unexpected results, but the boy has his own godmother, and her words were far more interesting than the boy himself.” She scoffed. “He will soon fail, of course, that much is inevitable. But he will still free us in the process, and then I will have one final use for him.”

“Marrying me,” Gwen said, the words dull. She couldn’t follow half of what her mother was saying, but anything that brought the queen so much satisfaction had to be bad for Gwen.

“You may think you’re defying me right now,” the queen said. “But it is as pointless as everything else you’ve attempted. The prince will return to us soon—the painting has shown that clearly enough. So I merely need to keep you sequestered here until then.” She tapped her chin. “I will say you’re sick and resting so as to be recovered for the prince’s arrival.” She nodded. “Yes, that will work well enough.”

Gwen’s heart leaped as she realized her mother meant to lock her in the tower room and leave her there. But it wasn’t fear that stirred her. Not when she had the master key still resting in her pocket.

The queen stopped halfway through the doorway, however, turning back with a mocking smile. “I am not such a fool as you apparently think me, daughter. The key to this room is one that only I hold. Your master key will not open it. And so I recommend you reconcile yourself to your stay here and use the time to prepare for your future. Soon our curse will be broken, and you will be married straight after. You will soon be the princess of two kingdoms, and we will begin a new and glorious future for the mountain throne.”

“What do you mean?” Gwen asked, her mouth dry.

The queen’s lips curved upward. “I’ve always promised you would one day rule, haven’t I? But how could I leave you such a small kingdom, trapped behind walls? The throne I will pass to you will stretch all the way to the ocean. There is no mountain I won’t level for your future. Don’t worry, my dear. You will be Queen Gwendolyn sooner than you think—but I will always be by your side.”

With those haunting words, she disappeared, the key turning in the lock. Gwen threw herself at the door anyway, pounding on it and screaming as she tried to open it.

It remained sturdy, however, and she knew she was too high in an unused tower to be heard by anyone. Even her servant friends wouldn’t know to look for her in such an unlikely place.

She had thought her mother might lock her in her room—had even thought she might try a closet again—but she had been overconfident in her possession of a master key. Failing that, she had thought Alma and the others would find some way to reach her. Now that both possibilities were stripped away, she felt raw, exposed, and desperate.

Her moment of defiance had been so long in coming and had failed so spectacularly. She had known her mother had some scheme underway, but she hadn’t realized the scope of it. Did she really think she could put her daughter on the throne as a puppet queen, hailed by the court as their savior but powerless in everything but name?

Looking around the barren room, it seemed all too possible. And what had her mother said about leveling mountains? A week ago, Gwen would have dismissed it as grandiose talk. But now she had seen the godmother objects her mother had amassed. Was it possible they had the power to change the geography of the region itself, laying forth a path for her mother to conquer the surrounding kingdoms in Gwen’s name?

She looked down at her empty hands, remembering how they had looked as the paws of a bear. Nothing seemed too far-fetched any longer. And her mother would already have a foothold in the lowlands if Gwen’s marriage made her a legitimate princess in one of their kingdoms.

Her mother wanted to fool the mountain people into following Gwen as the one who had saved them from the curse. And she wanted to fool a lowland kingdom into accepting her by marriage, opening the door to her planned conquest. But all her plans revolved around her daughter. Her mother had made Gwen the key to all of them.

A different level of desperation sank into her. She couldn’t stay in the tower to meekly accept her mother’s planned future. Escape wasn’t only necessary for her own sake anymore. Her mother said the curse had trapped her and her people in the mountains—explaining why they had never traded beyond those who lived in the valleys of the foothills—and as far as Gwen was concerned, her mother could stay in the mountains for the rest of her days.

Gwen looked wildly around the empty space. The unused room wasn’t even furnished, so there was nothing she could use to try to batter down the door.

Her eyes fell on the windows. Rushing toward the closest one, she tried the latch. When it swung open, she had a brief moment of triumph before she remembered where she was.

One glance downward sent her staggering away from the open pane of glass. She wasn’t in her room any longer. There was no friendly ground waiting for her, only a fall of several stories.

But desperation still had its fingers deep in her heart. Not even her fear of the drop could compare to her fear of her mother. And if she did fall, at least her death would foil her mother’s plans.

Knowing she couldn’t wait until her false courage faded, Gwen swung one leg over the windowsill. There were no sheets to make into ropes or anything equally fanciful. She would either scale the rough stone of the castle wall or she would fall.

Her bravado wavered when she reached the point of releasing her death grip on the windowsill. But she had already gone too far to turn back. She was dangling down the side of the wall, and she didn’t possess the strength to pull herself back up. There was nowhere to go but down.

The wind whistled past her, making her shiver, although she didn’t feel cold. If anything, she felt unnaturally warm. One small slip, and it would all be over.

She wished for a calm day without so much as a breeze that might disrupt her climb, but the wind mocked her, blowing more strongly in response. It curled around her, catching at her hair and dress.

She licked her lips, testing the position of both feet. She had wedged her toes into cracks provided by the uneven stones of the tower wall, but there wasn’t much grip. She would have preferred a better foothold, but it was the best she’d been able to find.

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