Finding Heathcliff

Twelve

The door hadn't properly closed behind Orion when Arabella entered, looking flustered.

Seeing her normally impeccable, queenly and collected lady-in-waiting in such a state, surprised Astrid-- Arabella's glistening eyes which refused to meet hers, and her shaking hands, were the greatest display of emotion that Astrid had ever seen from her.

"Here, Princess, I thought you would want to take these with you..." she muttered, passing Astrid her copy of Wuthering Heights and The Book of Angels. The news of Astrid's trial had apparently spread fast. "When do you plan to leave? What do you want me to pack for you?" Arabella rattled on, and Astrid was moved to tears by the sight of her trembling shoulders.

The middle-aged woman was the closest person Astrid had to a mother. And she had known her mother-- Arabella had been Queen Venus' personal maid before she became first Astrid's governess and then her lady-in-waiting. Arabella had always been around; she was an inseparable part of Astrid's life. Until now.

Astrid pulled her into an embrace, not caring that it was inappropriate for a young woman, soon-to-be-queen her age. She couldn't see Arabella like this; she didn't want to leave her behind.

Arabella returned her embrace quickly, then pushed her gently away, wiping Astrid's tears into her sleeve, while her eyes, shining wetly, finally met Astrid's as she begged, "Please, Lady Astrid..."

Astrid wasn't sure what she was asking for-- For her to compose herself, be brave?-- most likely, Arabella herself wasn't sure what she wanted her to do either. However, Astrid pulled herself together, nodded, and stepped away from Arabella as she said, "We are leaving at sunrise. Uncle Arcturus will give us five members of his guard and horses... Please, Arabella, would you find me saddlebags somewhere and a fitting set, or rather two, of the guards' clothes? I can't possibly wear any of my gowns."

Nodding silently, Arabella exited the room again, leaving Astrid to gather a few shirts, the plainest gown she possessed, a blanket and her knife-- the only arm she had been taught to use. A future queen needed to know some form of self-defense; her tutors had reasoned with her when she had argued that she would hardly need to defend herself in the castle. Now she appreciated for the first time the usefulness of those lessons, which in the past only seemed to be a nuisance designed to shorten the moments she could spend reading.

When Arabella returned with the bags and clothes Astrid had asked for, she also brought a tray with her dinner and word from Orion.

"Master Orion says that he already has the money and food that your uncle promised, and he also spoke to the men that will accompany you. Everything is ready for tomorrow," she explained while Astrid ate, not realising what was on her plate.

"Thank you, Arabella," Astrid muttered, watching the woman collecting her used dishes, more than half of the things she had brought left untouched. But Astrid wasn't in the mood for eating; her mind was too preoccupied with her journey to find the idea of food appealing.

Once the plates were piled on the silver tray again, she let her lady-in-waiting help her finish packing, bathe, and get ready for bed. After casting a glance around her chamber to make sure that she wasn't forgetting anything, Astrid pulled Arabella into another embrace.

"Please, don't get up to see me off in the morning. Let us say goodbye now. I'll be back in a few weeks, and I expect you to have finished my wedding gown by then," Astrid said, trying to sound cheerful.

"Princess..." Arabella muttered, voice shaking. "Should you get into danger, remember... remember your powers."

She finished her sentence in a whisper, even as her fingers vanished within Astrid's golden curls and tugged at the platinum strand. This was the first time that Arabella hinted at it willingly, without pretending that it did not exist, without making Astrid feel like a monster for having those powers that she could not control.

It stunned her into silence, and Arabella used the surprise to scurry out of the room without another word. Astrid knew her too well to run after her-- Arabella would tell her nothing more, she couldn't. Orion had told her that just like the other members of her uncle's court, her lady-in-waiting had been sworn to secrecy. Even now, when Astrid was about to leave, not feeling entirely sure that she would return, breaking that oath was unthinkable for Arabella. But she couldn't blame her; the entire court feared the regent and his sorceress.

Frowning, Astrid took a deep breath. She walked around her chamber one more time, double-checked her packed saddlebags, making sure that her books were placed safely inside one of them, and then went to bed.

Long after she blew out the candles, Astrid was still staring at the midnight-blue canopy of her bed, darker than the night brightened by long, silvery shafts of moonlight creeping in through the window to fill the room around her. Too many thoughts and questions spun themselves into thick, tangled tendrils of mystery in her mind, each new thought provoking a new string of questions instead of answers.

When she finally fell asleep, Astrid's thoughts morphed into dreams about angels. In her dream, angels were pure creatures made of light and goodness with huge, white, dove-like wings, just like her book described them, beings whose vicinity made her feel happy and safe... But the vision shifted fast and the angels turned into demons, creatures with olive skin and the dark, dishonest and calculating eyes of her uncle, looking so human-like that she wouldn't recognise them as demons if it wasn't for the coldness and fear she could feel emanating from them, coiling around her like tendrils of spiderwebs, long sticky, trapping her like a prey...

Before she could properly understand the vision, the dream dissolved into another. The black-clad, blond man with mesmerising, bottomless eyes the colour of seafoam, shrouded in tendrils of black fog redolent of burning incense, stood at the foot of Astrid's bed, towering above her sleeping body. As if through his eyes, she could see herself move restlessly under the covers as she struggled to open her eyes to look at him. His irises glittered and shone like two shards of a fallen star in the darkness of her room as they bore into hers, and their unusual colour reminded her suddenly of Deimos, the way she looked in that instant when Astrid saw her eyes being of that same shade of green as this man's, her hair the brightest copper.

Who is she really, and who... who is Michael... Astrid's mind whispered as the visions finally abandoned her, and she fell into a deeper, dreamless sleep.