Page 7 of To Ride the Wind

She had never managed to entirely stop thinking of him, but she always tried to avoid remembering those awful days after he had disappeared. She had confronted her mother then, and the punishment had been terrible.

Before that, her mother had responded to defiance by confining Gwen to her room with only the barest of rations. Gwen had quickly learned that continued defiance meant she would be moved to smaller and smaller places of confinement and given less and less food, so even back then she had usually backed down quickly. But after the awful confrontation over Easton’s disappearance, her mother had gone straight to a pitch-dark closet so small Gwen couldn’t even lie flat, and she’d provided no food or drink whatsoever.

Gwen had believed she would die in there and might have done so if her mother hadn’t relented and sent her a single glass of juice each evening starting from the second night. After several days in the dark, her mother believed she had succeeded in breaking Gwen’s spirit, and sometimes Gwen thought her mother had been right. In the years since, she had certainly always capitulated at the first stage. Being locked in her room over a mealtime brought back too many memories of the closet for her to brave further escalation of the punishment.

But still, hidden deep inside, she protected a small flame of defiance. As long as it continued to burn, she could tell herself that Easton’s Gwen still remained, not yet entirely subsumed by her mother’s dutiful Princess Gwendolyn.

“You were late,” her mother said, again without breaking the smile.

Gwen dared to give a small, audible sigh. Perhaps it was the effect of the memories.

“Why must we always have the balls in the afternoon?” she asked. “In the books I read, they happen at night. It would give everyone more time to prepare if we had them later, and they wouldn’t interfere with the day’s activities.”

Her mother’s eyes sharpened, and Gwen knew she had gone too far. Talk about nighttime always brought out the edge.

But her mother’s response remained light. “But, my dear…” She ran gentle fingers over the frothy blue material of Gwen’s gown. “You look so beautiful. Everyone does. What a waste to hide such magnificence in the darkness. You deserve to shine in the afternoon sun.”

This time Gwen didn’t let her sigh sound aloud. “Of course, Mother,” she said dully. “I wouldn’t want to prevent anyone gazing on their beautiful princess.”

Her mother either didn’t pick up or chose to ignore her irony. And when a courtier approached the queen, Gwen was able to escape entirely, considering herself to have gotten away from the interaction lightly.

Conversations such as those were the reason she couldn’t indulge in thoughts of Easton. He had always brought out her true self—had made her feel brave—and there was nothing Queen Celandine hated more.

As soon as a small crowd gathered to talk to her mother, Gwen allowed herself to escape to the fringes of the room. She was tempted to hide behind one of the elaborate ice sculptures that decorated the edges of the ballroom, but it was safer if she remained in her mother’s view. The queen always watched her most closely at this sort of event.

“I couldn’t risk bringing my mother, of course,” one of the courtiers said to another, catching Gwen’s ear. “You know what she’s like these days. She can’t remember what she should or shouldn’t say, and she keeps reminiscing about how things used to be before we were all—” He cut himself off.

His companion tsked, shaking her head. “Poor woman. You won’t be able to bring her anywhere the princess might be now. Just imagine if she let the truth slip to Princess Gwendolyn! The queen would throw you all to the bears.”

The original speaker winced. “One word on what has happened to this kingdom, and I tremble to think of the consequences. No, Mother will have to stay safely at home from now on.”

Gwen stared at them transfixed. She knew the courtiers were uncomfortable speaking to her and that her mother was the reason for their discomfort. But it had never occurred to her that they might all be actively collaborating in keeping a secret from her. Or was it more than one?

What did the courtiers know?

She almost started forward, questions trembling on the tip of her tongue. But another courtier joined them, glancing at Gwen as he did so and giving a small, formal bow. The movement made the original two turn to look, expressions of horror transforming their faces when they saw how close Gwen stood.

They hurried into their own bow and curtsy, exchanging worried looks as they did so. Gwen attempted her warmest smile, trying to convey that they need not fear her. If they told her their secrets, she would never betray them to her mother.

Both of them responded to her expression, relaxing and shooting each other relieved looks. But her momentary swell of triumph died as they quickly turned back to their own small circle. Her smile had achieved nothing except to convince them she hadn’t overheard after all. And from the alacrity with which they started another topic of conversation, she guessed they would never again risk saying something so revealing inside the palace walls.

As always, Gwen was left standing alone. But it felt different this time.

She looked slowly around the ballroom, heat bubbling up inside her. It started low in her belly and reached toward her throat. She had always been alone in crowds like this, and she had always wondered what was wrong with her to make it so. But suddenly she saw the scene in a different light.

What if the problem had never been with her at all? She had always known the palace held secrets, but she had never grasped the magnitude of the deception. It wasn’t just the queen keeping things from her daughter but a conspiracy by the entire court. For so many people to keep a secret must have required a concerted effort of extreme proportions. No wonder the courtiers feared being caught in even a moment’s conversation with her. They must have been living in fear of slipping up and saying something revealing.

Gwen had thought herself incapable of connecting with the people of her mother’s court, but the fault hadn’t been hers after all. It had been the courtiers who were actively working together to exclude her completely—from their friendships, their lives, even their simple conversations. Gwen might have lived in the palace and attended all the court events, but she existed in her own bubble, firmly outside the court itself. It must have been the only way to keep a secret so large.

She slowly turned to look toward her mother. She had no doubt about who had orchestrated her exclusion. But why? What was she hiding?

For a horrible moment, her stomach roiled as she wondered if it was because of her weakness and failings. The queen didn’t want the court to know about the depth of her heir’s flaws. But the face of Easton, which had plagued her since her arrival, flashed before her eyes again, and she stubbornly rejected the thought. Easton would never have befriended her if she was so terrible. Gwen might have faults, but she wasn’t such a shameful heir that the queen would be forced to such lengths. Whatever secret lurked in the court, it was a secret being kept from Gwen, not from the courtiers.

Her feet kept walking as her mind worked, considering many things in a different light. Most of the courtiers had apartments in the palace as well as homes in the city, but she rarely saw children within the palace walls. She had always assumed the courtiers wanted to avoid bringing their youngsters to her mother’s attention until they were old enough to be properly trained in respectful behavior. But perhaps they had a different reason for keeping them in the city where Gwen wasn’t permitted to go. Children were notoriously bad at keeping secrets.

And the same explanation might account for why she never saw any of the mountain kingdom’s regular citizens. The palace was surrounded by a large city, but of its many inhabitants, only the courtiers ever visited the palace. Among her future subjects, Gwen knew only the courtiers, and her mother’s guards and servants who lived inside the palace itself. She had always accepted that fact—initially because she was too wrapped up in Easton to care about anyone else, and later because she knew it would anger her mother to question anything. But the strangeness of it burned in her mind now.

Had her mother excluded her subjects from the palace because she feared what might happen if Gwen ever had a conversation with someone not utterly loyal to the queen? Did that mean Gwen was the only one of the mountain people not to know her kingdom’s secrets?

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