Alex Bledsoe - The Sword-Edged blonde

He retrieved his crown from Anders and placed it on Rhiannon’s head. It was too big, and so rode askew on her greasy locks. All of Arentia City laughed.

The rest of the evening-the entire night, in fact-was given over to a spontaneous celebration. It started after Phil and Rhiannon adjourned to their private quarters, where I’m sure the first thing she did was bathe. At least I hope it was. Wentrobe woke the kitchen staff and had them fire up the ovens, then led a raid on the wine cellar. I never saw the old guy move so purposefully. By the time the king, his clean and slightly breathless queen, and their son returned to the great hall the party was in full swing. Someone dragged a band from a tavern and they played ragged, bawdy dancing songs that ordinarily would never have echoed in the palace, especially on Wentrobe’s watch.

I drank a little, thanked Anders for all his help, but really didn’t feel like joining the party. I was too tired, and too many things had happened that didn’t really merit celebrating. Ideally I would’ve just left, but Phil was no ordinary client and I really did want to see him one last time. So I slipped out and returned to the secret spot on the castle roof until the party died down.

I hadn’t noticed how clear the night was until I settled in against the chimney. The stars shone like frozen sparks thrown from lightning, and I easily picked out all the constellations I’d learned in school. The waning moon still provided plenty of illumination.

My attention stayed on the stars. Some believed that each one was the soul of the dead, and they shone more brightly when someone they loved thought of them. Were the two brightest stars that night the souls of Janet and Cathy? I hoped so, because in that glorious sky, I knew they’d found peace.

This high, even in the summer, the night wind grew chilly. Rhiannon still had my jacket, so I shifted to the chimney’s opposite side. Here I had a view across the moonlit city, fully alive at the news of the queen’s return. A soft rushing sound I attributed to wind at first grew louder until I recognized it as cheering. The whole town was still cheering. Wow.

I didn’t quite fall asleep, but my mind drifted until I completely lost track of time. When I snapped back to the moment, I tried to quickly reorient myself by the changed position of the stars. Before I could, though, the rooftop door opened. I thought I’d have to explain that I wasn’t some burglar trying to get into the royal treasury, but when I peeked around the chimney, I saw Phil emerge and make his way across the slanted roof. He dropped wearily onto the shingles beside me and leaned back against the brick. “I’m exhausted,” he said.

“I bet.”

“There’ll be another big soiree tonight to officially welcome back the queen. We’d both really like you to stay.”

“Can’t say no to a king.”

He handed me a small flask from inside his jacket. I took a drink and passed it back. “I owe you one,” he said.

“Nah. Friends do this stuff.”

We sat silently for a while. Then he said, “Is there anything you need to tell me privately? About Ree?”

I slowly shook my head.

“So you didn’t find out anything about her past?” he pressed.

“That wasn’t what you asked me.”

“Come on, Eddie, I need to know.”

I turned to face him. “Phil, suppose I told you I found out the most horrible, repulsive thing about her? Something that would make you never want to be near her, let alone touch her, ever again. Would you want to know?”

He nodded.

“Now suppose I said I found out the most amazing, transcendent, beautiful thing imaginable about her? And that knowing it would make you feel unworthy to even be in her presence. Would you want to know that?”

“What does that mean?”

“It means I don’t know who or what the hell she really was before, Phil. But now she’s your wife, your queen and the mother of your little boy. And man, does she love you. That’ll have to be enough.”

He scowled in frustration. “What if something like this happens again?”

“Not a chance,” I said with absolute certainty. I wasn’t that sure, of course, but I wanted Phil to be. And the relief in his eyes was payment enough.

We passed the flask and watched the eastern sky grow lighter until neither of us could keep our eyes open. We went inside, and I slept most of the day. If I dreamed, I don’t recall.

T HE OFFICIAL PARTY celebrating Rhiannon’s exoneration and Pridiri’s return from the dead was as big an affair as Wentrobe could organize in a little less than twelve hours. Anyone of note who could get to Arentia City was present, and the free food and liquor meant a lot of people came to town. Phil and Rhiannon held court seated on their matching thrones, each in their best official trimmings. I’d never seen either of them in their work clothes before, and the effect was suitably impressive. They passed Pridiri back and forth often, neither wanting anyone but the other to care for him.

For about ten seconds that evening, I’d considered wearing the LaCrosse crest on my dinner coat. One had mysteriously appeared in my closet, no doubt at Phil’s instruction. I tried it on and checked myself out in the mirror; my father looked back at me. I returned it to the closet and dressed in nondescript, borrowed finery.

I lurked around the party’s sidelines, raiding the bar and buffet but avoiding anyone who looked like they might recognize me. I also couldn’t keep myself from scanning the crowd for ugly chimpanzees. Eventually the sound and noise got to me, and I eased out of the banquet hall. People milled about all areas of the castle, and I pretended to be taking in the wonders of the royal family’s art collection until, near midnight, I entered the dark Hall of Portraits. I startled one teenage couple necking in a corner, and they scurried away. It made me smile, though.

Again the big room was lit only by moonlight, only this time I wasn’t drunk, and the sounds of joy and life from the banquet soaked through the centuries-old stone walls. I looked up at Janet’s picture for a long time before I realized I wasn’t alone.

Rhiannon drifted from the shadows. Her golden hair shimmered, and her jewels twinkled like trails left by her mysterious birds. Her gown swished across the marble floor. “I hope I’m not intruding,” she said.

“It’s your castle.”

She laughed. “So why aren’t you with the rest of us? Dining on ashes?”

I shrugged. “Maybe. Better for you than crow.”

She stood beside me and looked up at the portrait. “Philip told me a lot about her. Sometimes when I look at that painting, I feel like I knew her, too. I feel the loss.”

“I’m sorry for that,” I said. I meant it.

She took my hand. I didn’t look at her. “I owe you more than I can ever repay,” she said. “All of us do.”

I shrugged. “It’s my job.”

She turned my face toward her. “No. Not what you did. And what you’re still doing. I know you could tell me who I really am. Or I should say, who I used to be. No, don’t bother to deny it. But you won’t. Because it would do too much damage, wouldn’t it?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Really.”

She gazed into my eyes for a long moment, then released my chin and looked away. “I suppose you’ll be leaving soon,” she said sadly.

“Yeah.”

“You don’t have to, you know. Your castle and lands are still there. Philip rents them out occasionally, but he’s never officially confiscated them to the crown. Even if he had, all you’d have to do is ask.”

“Arentia ain’t my home anymore. Isn’t my home anymore. See? I can’t even speak good no more. I’d just embarrass all of us.”