blackened and leafless, as though they had been scorched with a blast of flame.
“Nora, what a terrible experience for you,” Ilissa said, still clasping Nora’s hand. “Are you truly all right? I know how wicked those men are.”
“She’s fine,” Moscelle said, before Nora could answer. “They didn’t touch her.”
“Thank you, Moscelle,” Ilissa said tightly, still smiling. Moscelle was right, Ilissa was very angry indeed.
“It’s true,” said Nora. “They didn’t hurt me. They were afraid of you and Raclin. Where is Raclin?” she added, looking around, wondering why he had not ridden out to meet her.
“Oh, Raclin is patrolling the border, making sure that those men don’t try to attack us,” said Ilissa. “Don’t worry about him,” she added, seeing the apprehension in Nora’s face. “He’ll be back before you know it, darling. He was very upset to hear what happened. I would have expected Moscelle and Vulpin and the others to have taken better care of you.”
Beside Nora, Moscelle stiffened slightly. Nora noticed Vulpin a few feet away, the grotesque snout and tusks still protruding from his face.
“Can’t you help him?” Nora asked. “The wizard did that to him—it’s so horrible.”
“Yes, it is, isn’t it?” Ilissa said. “Well, we could change him back to our dear, handsome Vulpin right away. But Vulpin and I have been discussing it, and much as it pains me, we’ve agreed that it might be better to let him stay this way for a bit longer. A little reminder to him and everyone else to be more cautious next time.”
Nora looked over at Vulpin, and he nodded, his changed face unreadable. “But it wasn’t his fault I got lost,” she said. “And then he came for me, even though I could tell he felt horrible.”
Ilissa’s laugh was like a champagne flute breaking on a marble floor. “I’d expect no less of Vulpin!” she declared. “He did only what he should have. But why, darling, did you get lost? Were you trying to leave us? Are you not happy here?”
As Nora met Ilissa’s gaze, so endlessly sympathetic and concerned—so impossible to evade—she again began to feel as though her tongue and brain were numbed, as though words and phrases would refuse to combine into anything but the simplest of meanings. (That didn’t matter, though, because Ilissa would understand everything perfectly.) “Happy, I’m very happy,” she began.
Then, unbidden, Nora remembered the cold winter light and the brown fields and how she had faced the tall wizard in black and found the words she needed.
“I just went to pick some flowers,” Nora said, a little sharply. “No one told me there was any danger.”
“Of course, I understand,” Ilissa said. “So you encountered Lord Luklren and Lord Aruendiel. What did you think of them?”
“I didn’t like them. The way they talked about me, and you and Raclin, was very, uh—not respectful.”
“They are very coarse, rude men. I use their titles simply as a courtesy. But you have nothing to worry about. Luklren is a nuisance only, and Aruendiel—well, I have defeated him before.” Ilissa’s eyes narrowed, and suddenly she did look as though she could face the Spanish Armada.
“Under the circumstances, though, I think we should change our plans slightly,” she continued. “Darling, I hope this won’t be a disappointment, because we’ve been having so much fun planning the wedding—but I think we should go ahead and have it tonight, even though not everything is quite ready. Once you and Raclin are married, they wouldn’t dare do anything to hurt you. Darling, what do you think?”
When Nora had heard the word “disappointment,” she’d had the sudden fear that Ilissa was about to say that the wedding was off, the engagement broken. With a surge of relief, Nora said, “That sounds wonderful!”
“Ah, you see, Moscelle!” Ilissa said. “Nothing stands in the way of love.”
There was something odd about Nora’s bouquet, a lush cascade of white lilies and peonies bound with a white silk ribbon. But if she happened to glimpse it from the corner of her eye, the bouquet was a bundle of black sticks. This was distracting; Nora kept glancing down to see whether she was holding sticks or flowers.
“I’m sorry, darling,” Moscelle said, noticing her confusion. “I did the best I could.
“It’s all right,” Nora said. “They look beautiful. Is Raclin here yet?”
“Oh, he’ll be here soon,” said Moscelle absently, adjusting Nora’s gown. “It’s getting dark.”
“Do you think anything could have happened to him?”
“Darling, nothing happens to Raclin that he doesn’t want to happen to him.”
“That’s right,” said Raclin, coming through the door. Moscelle stepped back just in time to let Nora rush into his arms.
“I was so worried!”
Raclin’s lips brushed Nora’s mouth. “My dear, there was absolutely no danger. Those cowards know better than to tangle with me. My mother’s in a panic that they’ll launch some sort of attack, but honestly, I don’t think we’ll have any more trouble.” He looked even more handsome than usual, Nora thought, with his eyes bright and a light flush of color on his perfect cheekbones. “And once the wedding’s out of the way, we’ll have a marvelous opportunity to launch a counterattack.”
“But I don’t want you to go off and fight just when we get married,” Nora protested. “We need some time together.”
Raclin looked down at her curiously. “Did you find your tongue again? That’s the longest sentence I’ve heard you utter for weeks, my dear.”
Nora laughed with a tinge of embarrassment. All this time, fogged with happiness, she hadn’t realized how distracted she must have seemed, even to dear Raclin. “Oh, you would have been proud of me, the way I talked to that wizard and those soldiers. They kept trying to scare me, and I wouldn’t back down.”
“You didn’t, eh?” Raclin said. “Well, that’s good, I suppose. My brave girl.”
“Anyway, you shouldn’t be thinking about fighting. We’re about to get married.”
“Look at her! We’re not even married yet, and she’s already telling me what to do.”
“You’d better do what I say, or maybe I’ll change my mind about marrying you,” Nora said daringly. (
In fact, the ceremony went so quickly that Nora would have been hard-pressed to find time to change her mind. A blare of trumpets, and she and Raclin passed through a vast crowd even more splendid than usual. Then they were standing in front of Ilissa, who spoke to them in that strange, sinuous language. Raclin answered in the same language, and Nora chimed in with the response that Moscelle had made her practice a hundred times. (Nora promised herself that she would master this second language of Raclin’s, whatever it was, as soon as possible.)
Raclin put a golden ring on her finger. It was tight, almost painful at first—perhaps there had been a mistake, and it was the wrong size—but then it felt fine. She slipped its twin onto Raclin’s finger. Ilissa crowned her with a jeweled tiara. Raclin was already wearing a circlet of gold around his head. At the wedding banquet, almost all of the toasts and speeches were in that same mysterious language. Nora smiled through it all, her hand linked with Raclin’s. There was dancing, and then Raclin pulled her upstairs to a din of applause and whistles from the guests.
They were finally alone, Nora and Raclin, in a vast new bedchamber that was all gilt-and-whipped-cream rococo, as though the decor had been entrusted to a team of pastry chefs. Raclin swung Nora into his arms as if she were a doll and laid her on the bed, under the billowing canopy embroidered with crowns and cupids and peacocks.
“Well, that’s over with, finally,” he said. “How’s my brave girl?”
“Darling!” Nora said, sitting up and reaching out for him. She suddenly felt she could not wait another second to feel his naked skin under her fingers. He laughed and began taking off his coat.
When Nora awoke the next morning, adrift like a small boat in the big bed, all she could really remember from the night before was the sense of a fierce, delicious frenzy that lasted seemingly for hours and then became indistinguishable from sleep. A few clear impressions remained: the sleek coolness of Raclin’s flesh even when his body moved faster and faster against hers, and the look of what might have been amusement on his face as he
