anything," the Prince said, and smiled a tender-eyed smile. He drank a sip of wine, mouth opening into a perfect round O, a flash of his tongue before his lips closed.
"I do," he said. "I would. Anything, I swear."
The moment he said those words the Prince and Princess smiled at each other and he felt a chill crawl up his spine.
***
One afternoon the servant handed him a piece of paper instead of bringing him food. David felt the weight of the paper in his hand and stared at the soft cream color of it, the gilded edges that curved into silhouettes of his brother and sister. His stomach rumbled a little but he ignored it.
"They--they sent this for me?" he asked and unfolded the paper. Great slashes of words raced across it, all of them a curious mix of sharp curves and delicate loops. It was as if two people had written the letter at the same time. David wished he could read it. He looked at the servant, then back down at the letter.
"I'll return for you after the evening mass, then?" the servant said, a hint of impatience in his voice. His eyes were as impossible to read as ever, still fogged a snowy white.
"Yes," David said. "I'll be ready. And then we'll go and--?"
A frown crossed the servant's face. "You did read the note?"
"I--"
"Just be ready," the servant said, bitterness in his voice that David knew wasn't directed at him but at something else, someone else. "Their Highnesses don't like to be kept waiting."
"I'm going to see them," David breathed and smiled.
"Yes," the servant said, and didn't smile back.
They were waiting for him, sitting on long sofas across from each other and smiling at one another over a scurrying maid's head. They looked over at him at the same time, rose from their sofas together and walked towards him. The Prince waved the maid away, smiling a little as she flinched and raced from the room. The Princess said, "Thank you, that will be all," to the servant who'd led David to them, smiled as he blinked his fogged eyes and turned away.
"I'm so glad to see you," David said when they were alone. "I've --"
"Yes, yes," the Prince said. "We're glad to see you too. But we asked you here for a reason."
"Yes," the Princess said. "You see--"
"We've planned--"
"a gift--"
"of a trip--"
"just for you--"
"our dear brother."
"For me?" David said. "Really? No one's ever--really and truly just for me?"
The Prince and Princess smiled at each other. "Yes, dear heart," the Princess said, her voice laced with laughter that David wanted to enjoy but couldn't. Something about it didn't seem to include him.
"Just for you," the Prince said, and his voice was a deeper counterpoint to the Princess's, laced with the same excluding mirth. "You'll leave in the morning."
"Where am I going?" David asked eagerly. "What will I see?"
"A new land," the Princess said at the same time the Prince said, "You'll see things most people don't see until they are very old."
"Thank you," David said, and hesitated for a moment, then reached out and hugged each of them like his nurse used to hug him. They were both warm and it felt nice to be close to someone, to know they cared for him. Their arms didn't close around him like his nurse's had but it didn't matter. He didn't think he'd ever been so happy.
"Farewell," they said at the same time as he left the room. He turned back to wave at them but they'd turned away, were looking out the window.
Outside, the snow had stopped falling.
"We did it," the Princess said late that night, lying curled on her side with a smile on her face.
"Yes, we did," the Prince said. He stretched and then curled his body down into an echo of hers, the two of them looking deep into each other's eyes. "And now--"
"Dear Father," the Princess said with a sigh, her smile sharpening. "He can pass on to the next world. We'll--"
"We'll tell him about our brother together. He'll cry--"
"He'll howl."
They shared a smile.
"He thinks he's forgotten," the
"I do," he said. "I would. Anything, I swear."
The moment he said those words the Prince and Princess smiled at each other and he felt a chill crawl up his spine.
***
One afternoon the servant handed him a piece of paper instead of bringing him food. David felt the weight of the paper in his hand and stared at the soft cream color of it, the gilded edges that curved into silhouettes of his brother and sister. His stomach rumbled a little but he ignored it.
"They--they sent this for me?" he asked and unfolded the paper. Great slashes of words raced across it, all of them a curious mix of sharp curves and delicate loops. It was as if two people had written the letter at the same time. David wished he could read it. He looked at the servant, then back down at the letter.
"I'll return for you after the evening mass, then?" the servant said, a hint of impatience in his voice. His eyes were as impossible to read as ever, still fogged a snowy white.
"Yes," David said. "I'll be ready. And then we'll go and--?"
A frown crossed the servant's face. "You did read the note?"
"I--"
"Just be ready," the servant said, bitterness in his voice that David knew wasn't directed at him but at something else, someone else. "Their Highnesses don't like to be kept waiting."
"I'm going to see them," David breathed and smiled.
"Yes," the servant said, and didn't smile back.
They were waiting for him, sitting on long sofas across from each other and smiling at one another over a scurrying maid's head. They looked over at him at the same time, rose from their sofas together and walked towards him. The Prince waved the maid away, smiling a little as she flinched and raced from the room. The Princess said, "Thank you, that will be all," to the servant who'd led David to them, smiled as he blinked his fogged eyes and turned away.
"I'm so glad to see you," David said when they were alone. "I've --"
"Yes, yes," the Prince said. "We're glad to see you too. But we asked you here for a reason."
"Yes," the Princess said. "You see--"
"We've planned--"
"a gift--"
"of a trip--"
"just for you--"
"our dear brother."
"For me?" David said. "Really? No one's ever--really and truly just for me?"
The Prince and Princess smiled at each other. "Yes, dear heart," the Princess said, her voice laced with laughter that David wanted to enjoy but couldn't. Something about it didn't seem to include him.
"Just for you," the Prince said, and his voice was a deeper counterpoint to the Princess's, laced with the same excluding mirth. "You'll leave in the morning."
"Where am I going?" David asked eagerly. "What will I see?"
"A new land," the Princess said at the same time the Prince said, "You'll see things most people don't see until they are very old."
"Thank you," David said, and hesitated for a moment, then reached out and hugged each of them like his nurse used to hug him. They were both warm and it felt nice to be close to someone, to know they cared for him. Their arms didn't close around him like his nurse's had but it didn't matter. He didn't think he'd ever been so happy.
"Farewell," they said at the same time as he left the room. He turned back to wave at them but they'd turned away, were looking out the window.
Outside, the snow had stopped falling.
"We did it," the Princess said late that night, lying curled on her side with a smile on her face.
"Yes, we did," the Prince said. He stretched and then curled his body down into an echo of hers, the two of them looking deep into each other's eyes. "And now--"
"Dear Father," the Princess said with a sigh, her smile sharpening. "He can pass on to the next world. We'll--"
"We'll tell him about our brother together. He'll cry--"
"He'll howl."
They shared a smile.
"He thinks he's forgotten," the
Similar Books
Ski Trip Trouble
Cylin Busby
Severed Souls
Terry Goodkind
Trouble Comes in Threes
M.A. Church
Fatal Quest
Sally Spencer
Movie For Dogs
Lois Duncan
Desolation Crossing
James Axler
Vagina Insanity
Niranjan Jha
Duma Key
Stephen King
Untamed Journey
Eden Carson
