The first couple nights after their agreement were difficult. Though they knew the danger of the curse, the princesses still felt the ever-present pull of the trapdoor. They found themselves yearning to disappear into their hidden room, even though its sanctuary was no longer needed. It took great self-possession to resist opening it once more.
And then suddenly, on the third night, the feelings disappeared. Eralie sensed none of the anxiety that had emerged immediately after separating herself from the cursed magic. Her heart felt lighter, as though a heavy weight had been lifted. A short discussion with her sisters revealed that they, too, had felt the change. In a moment of curiosity, Eurielle peeked under the rug, only to inform her sisters that all evidence of the trapdoor had vanished completely. The floorboards had merged together seamlessly once more, as if it had never been there at all.
"I can't believe it's over," said Callia. It was not the first time one of the princesses had expressed this sentiment since the trapdoor had disappeared the night before. Eralie, who had been immersed in her own thoughts, returned to the present reality only long enough to respond with a noncommittal "Mmhmmm..." before falling prey to her own reflections once more, which were interspersed between romantic daydreams and doubts about...someone.
Reclining relaxed on her bed, Callia looked up from the journal that she'd been reading when she'd made the offhand comment. She clearly wasn't altogether satisfied with Eralie's distraction, because she attempted once again to engage her in conversation.
"You know, Eralie, I've started a new story now that we've finished Diamond."
She had picked her new topic well. With her love of drama and romance, Eralie had always been intensely interested in her younger sister's creative endeavors, even more so than their other sisters. There was little else that could have distracted her so completely, and she welcomed the opportunity to dwell on something other than her personal anxieties.
"Really? Do I hear the making of another drama?" Eralie asked eagerly, angling her chair away from the window to face her sister more fully. Callia closed her journal, seeming to ponder the question.
"Nooo...no, I don't think it would make a good drama. Not for us anyway. It'll be a real romance this time, and I think that would probably be a little too uncomfortable even for Thaleia to tackle as the hero." She and Eralie exchanged amused smiles at the very thought.
"So, what is it about then?"
"Well, the main characters have known each other for years, and they've loved each other from afar for about as long. But neither of them knows how the other feels. But I think what I'll be doing with the story is taking it from the girl's point of view, and making it seem like her feelings are entirely unrequited, so that not even the reader will know whether he loves her in return. That way, I'm hoping that I can pull off a measure of uncertainty and hopelessness."
"And how does it end?" Eralie asked, not entirely sure whether she liked the idea of a story that spoke of hopeless love. "Do they have a happily ever after?"
"You tell me."
Callia shot her a knowing, commanding look, then gathered up her journal and hid behind it, burying her nose in its pages once more. Eralie stared at the cover of her book for several seconds, her mind frantically trying to catch up with her thumping heart as she processed the meaning of her sister's hints. She felt an urgent desire to be alone to gather her thoughts, and almost hoped that Callia would leave, but she showed little inclination to do so. It would be up to her to seek solitude, and she knew where to find it.
With a serenity that belied the turmoil within, Eralie exited her bedchamber. She was relieved that she met no one else in the halls on the way to her garden nook—no one but Petra, that is, who seemed as unwilling to be noticed by her as Eralie herself could wish. She slipped into the gardens and past the picturesque pavilion, relishing the feel of the breeze on her flushed skin. Within a matter of moments, she was seated on her favorite garden bench, secluded and hidden from the view of anyone who might be passing by.
She was breathing harder than normal, though not from exertion. Her shortness of breath was rather due to the panic that filled her chest at the thought of verbally confessing the feelings that she'd held hidden for so long—ever since she'd first laid eyes on the son of her father's former steward at the age of seventeen. Her instant attraction, though based on a mere crush and her romantic inclinations, had deepened over the last five years into something much more real. By the time Sir Bionne succeeded his father as head steward, she had developed a profound respect and admiration for his character to complement her love for the man himself. But though he was always kind, she had never perceived anything other than courtesy in his treatment of her. She had assumed that, were he to know of her feelings, he would regard them as only a passing fancy, much like Eurielle's blatant puppy-love.
And so she concealed her affection as best she could from the object of it, and silently nursed her heartache. The secret chamber, while providing a respite from King Gustave's strict rules for her sisters, had had another claim on her interest in offering a balm for her disappointed hopes. In acting out the life of another, she was able to forget her pain for the first time in years, if only for the fleeting moment of a night. Therefore, it was only natural that her heartache had increased twofold when her way of escape had ended.
But if Callia's observations could be trusted—for her hints were thinly veiled—Eralie had possibly been mistaken in her belief of his indifference.
"Your Highness?"
At first she thought the sound of Ty's voice was just the remnant of a daydream. Then slowly her eyes focused, and there he stood in front of her, hands formally clasped behind his back.
"I'm sorry to disturb you, Princess, but His Majesty has been waylaid in his afternoon ride, and requested that I inform you that the dinner hour will be delayed as well."
Eralie's 'thank you' was barely audible. Ty's brow furrowed in concern, as if reading something into her expression.
"Are you well, milady?" he asked, approaching a little.
She smiled a little. "Yes, I'm quite well. I've just been thinking about..." she gazed into his eyes and lost her nerve at the last moment, "...the sanctum. You still haven't explained how you found us out."
He quirked a smile. "There's not much to tell." Sitting beside her on the bench, he said, "The truth is, Princess, I was in the room on the night Sir Luka entered the contest. I had been given an...item which allowed me to escape your notice."
"An invisibility cloak, I presume?" She met Ty's surprised gaze. "Sir Bionne, my sisters and I were under the enchantment of a cursed passageway. At this point, nothing surprises me."
He nodded. "So I simply followed you."
"Eurielle mentioned that she thought she heard footsteps." Eralie suddenly remembered. "That was you!"
"And you know the rest," he ended anticlimactically. He was apparently not as gifted at storytelling as Callia.
He stood to take his leave. Eralie, struck by a sudden thought, stood as well, stopping his departure with a hand on his arm. He stopped short, and Eralie could have sworn she felt a tremor run through him. "Ty...Sir Bionne! One last question. I told Father myself of your involvement, and I know he offered you what he'd promised as prize to the one who discovered our secret. Why didn't you accept it? You would have made an excellent king, and gained the hand of a princess."
"I could not take something that should be freely given." Ty spoke with quiet resolve, an unreadable emotion flickering across his face for the briefest of seconds.
Eralie drew a deep, ragged breath. The wording of his response sent a spark of hope to her heart. "And if it should be given?"
He startled, then stepped closer to her. Hazel eyes searched blue intently. Reading the unspoken response in the depths of her gaze, Ty provided a wordless answer of his own. With a gentle touch, he tilted her chin and caressed her lips with the lightest of kisses. Pulling away slightly, he answered, "Then, and only then, would I accept."
Eralie's eyes shone as she closed the distance between them once more.