Of Spinning Gold and Song

| Seventeen | The Gold

I paced back in forth in the straw room, trying my hardest not to scream, or to burst into tears, or both. I couldn't believe this was happening. I was a good person. I worked to support my sister, the person or thing I most loved in the world. I had risked everything by going after Rosie, because she was worth everything. I thought that made me a good, deserving person. I had thought I would live out a happy life, grow old with a family, and leave a legacy of happy children.

I had never thought I would die by the hand of the wretched queen in a prison of straw because I failed to procure an impossible skill.

Wringing my hands in frustration, I tripped over a bundle of hay and went sprawling to the ground. The disheveled mess of straw did little to break my fall on the cold, hard, impassive stone floor of the dungeon cell they had put me in. I would have thought that if I girl was potentially a future princess, she would be treated a little better than being stuffed in a filthy cell like a common prisoner.

It would appear that I had thought wrong.

If I had thought the queen was jesting, had thought she was actually merciful or at the very least not completely and totally insane, I had been horribly, horribly wrong. The prison cell was more like a barn; it was piled high with straw, some if it giving off a faint disgusting odor. I almost expected to see a horse peeking around the corner of one of the stacks, but of course that was far too much to ask for. This wasn't a happy barn; it was a prison and it was the place where I would die. Tomorrow morning. At the latest.

She had promised that I would be given every luxury, that I could even possibly be queen should I manage to complete the impossible task. The monarchy needed another strong power to boost the magic of their posterity and heirs, and despite my illegal existence, I could be what they needed.

Apparently the strong blood lines in the monarchy were growing diluted, their powers waning. Those of her son Prince Lawrence himself were supposedly disgustingly weak. A look disappointment and distress had filled her perfect face when she had said that, and surprisingly, she had made no attempt to hide it even though earlier she had appeared quite a master of hiding her emotions.

It would appear that the queen was not proud of her son.

I wondered what she would say if she knew my true ability. I still had entirely no idea where she had gotten the idea that I could actually spin gold into straw. It was absurd. It was ridiculous. It was stupid. And it was likely going to get me killed.

It wasn't evident to anyone with eyes that Queen Isolde and I were from the same kingdom, from Ayraelia. I supposed that was what had given her the idea that I had magic, and it was a true idea, but not in the way she imagined.

For the millionth time in my life, I wished that, like Rosie, I had taken after Pap instead of Mam. But this time was different; this time I didn't wish that for any superficial whims that it might make me fit in, but because I wanted to escape this cruel and dreaded palace with my life intact. The Ayraelian silver light hair and grey eyes would be my undoing.

I was so desperate that I had considered revealing my true skill to her. But as of now I was determined not to, and that was because I was afraid.

I had known fear before. But never had I known a fear so encompassing and immense as that which the queen evoked. She really meant to kill me. Somehow, I had no doubt that she would fall through her word. She swore I would lose my life, and I believed her.

I didn't want to tell her about the wind because I was afraid, afraid in more ways than one, each more powerful than the last.

I was afraid of what she would do to me. There had been no mistaking the glint in her eye as she had gleefully told me of the death and imprisonment that all my friends and family and I should be getting. I knew that it would be easy for her to convince herself that all the men in Augustin's party, especially Bradyn, had seen my wind. Perhaps they didn't all know—only Bradyn knew the full extent of it—but they all knew I had somehow managed to unbind myself. And a malicious queen that went off assumption would be sure to assume that was enough.