Eglantine Departs

The Queen kept the children with her all the long day of Eglantine’s sentencing. They stood behind her on the dais as she passed further judgement. Her rival’s banishment did not end the matter. To the children’s horror she ordered that any servant who used the kitchen fountain be beaten. Adolphus could not stay quiet for that, and objected that the elderly tomato had testified that no one living had carved the pictures, so no one living could be blamed for them. In response the  Queen ignored him while the Chief Guard silenced him with one strong hand around his neck.

Then the children accompanied her Majesty to her chambers, where they did not even peek behind the grass curtain to view the indoor waterfall Rhodri had enthused about. They were allowed to relax and take refreshment while Drysi napped and bathed and ordered new gowns made up for herself. Later they accompanied her to an interminable feast, at which the servants were grim and speechless and the company near hysterical with forced gaiety.

During the third course Bettina could not take her eyes from the darkening sky.

“She’s not letting us say goodbye,” Annabelle whispered. “That’s part of our punishment.”

“Being with her is our punishment,” Mirabelle agreed.

Bettina stood and clutched Claire’s sleeve.

“Sick!”

“What?”

Bettina rolled her eyes significantly. “Sick!”

Claire snatched her up and bobbed a quick curtsey to the queen. “Beg pardon Majesty, my sister is ill.”

Queen Drysi glared at her. “Sit down and behave yourselves.”

Bettina gagged and heaved. The queen blanched pink and waved a hand in rapid dismissal. Once out of her sight they ran to Lady Aubergine’s chambers. As they approached they found a company of soldiers lining the hall. Claire slowed to a more decorous pace, whispering, “She’s still here,” as they threaded through.

They entered to a blur of motion and color, Lady Aubergine hidden behind a blur of wings. She had thrown open her bird cage, and was coaxing the last of the finch-like creatures out. Claire set Bettina down and she ran into the lady’s arms.

Eglantine knelt, enveloping her charge. They were still in the purple twilight.

“Oh, Claire, I’m so sorry,” Eglantine said. “You should not have to bear the weight of her madness.”

“We’ll be fine,” Claire said.

“Of course!” Eglantine sniffed. “You just shouldn’t have to.”

She stood, picking Bettina up with her and embraced Claire. “I have become quite attached to you,” she said, “and Drysi knows it. That is why she settled for banishment, you see. If she had me killed, which was certainly her intent, then I should not have felt the pain of our parting. I am part mistletoe, on my father’s side, you see.”

“Mistletoe?”

“Yes. We develop strong emotional attachments, mistletoes, and I am quite, quite fond of you. Drysi sees love as a weakness, and values only strength. But then she longs for that which she pretends to despise.”

A guard stepped inside the door, looking almost apologetic.

Eglantine squeezed the girls again. “I am to retire to a small house by the acid sea,” she said. “It is the only estate remaining to my family, the only house she did not desire. It is four hours by carriage, south by southeast.” She released them, handing Bettina to Claire. Bettina buried her face in her sister’s collar, sobbing.

“I needn’t tell you to be brave or clever, for you always are. Do be careful, though. You must control yourselves.” She picked up a valise. “Because certain other people cannot.” With that she swept from the room, surrounded by guards.