“And the mud?”
“Enchanted,” said Demelza. “My mother’s idea of camouflage… it has begun to fall off, but it will take some time. What else can we do? What do you think they might be drawn to?”
“Power,” said Yvlle. “Which you have but cannot reveal.”
“I disagree, Sister,” said Arris. “It is not power that draws the eye. It is mystery. A dazzling king can be poor fodder for the imagination. But a pauper with a tale? Now, that can dazzle a crowd.”
Yvlle made ahmmsound.
“The next trial is in one week’s time, and by then, Mother will want the contestants narrowed down even more,” said Yvlle. “There shall be teas and whatnot—nothing planned in the evening, for you know how she is about a grand ball. Tomorrow I believe there shall be a tour of the palace menagerie. I know how mother feels about the place, but I can’t imagine why she’d want anyone there.”
“How one treats an animal says more about the person than the beast,” said Demelza.
Both Arris and Yvlle eyed her, as if slightly perplexed.
“Fair point, Demelza,” said Arris. “Then I suppose it’s settled. Naturally, Demelza’s secret stays between us, Sister.”
Yvlle scowled. “Obviously. I have no desire to see what madness would be unleashed on the palace if they knew what she really was.”
A slight thrill raced through Demelza’s body. She had always longed to go on missions like her sisters, and although these were dramatically different circumstances, there wasstill intrigue. Glamour, even. Demelza felt positively giddy about it, which made her wonder if she’d bumped her head in her rush to get to Rathe Castle. Demelza had never been singled out for this sort of attention. Never been fussed over like this either. Never had a chance to prove what she could do—only show that she could do enough. It was… exciting.
“I will fetch you in the morning,” said Yvlle. “If there’s nothing to be done about the hair then at the very least we’ll begin with a new wardrobe and figure out what tale to tell of you. Brother, get out of her room. I can hear the vines mumbling from my quarters in the Castle.”
Arris shook his head, smiling. “Good night, Demelza.”
“Good night, Your Majesty,” said Demelza.
He paused. “I think we’re beyond that, don’t you? Call me Arris.”
Arris, thought Demelza. The door closed. Demelza glanced at the mirror, but Yvlle lingered.
“My brother is a strange one, but he deserves a chance, you know,” she said.
“To what?”
Yvlle smiled. “To live.”
18The Royal Menagerie
Of all the strange and wondrous places on the grounds of Rathe Castle, the menagerie was Arris’s least favorite. Near the orangery holding the great dream tree and beside the gardens and labyrinth, the menagerie was hardly noticeable, for it resembled nothing more than a copse of trees with only a low, circular stone wall to demarcate where the animals lived.
Once one entered, it was something else entirely. Acres and acres had been twisted and pinched off, and only the enchantments of the stone wall kept the vast expanse of land in place. Arris knew this because when he was eight years old he had pried a gap through the stone so that he could spy on the animals inside only to have an entire tropical jungle attempt to squeeze itself through the opening.
His mother had been furious. Arris thought she was mad that he had broken the wall or wandered farther than he should, but her anger was on behalf of the creatures.
“At the very least, you could leave them their privacy,” she said. “Their situation is miserable enough.”
Arris did not understand. “But… but they seem happy?”
The sky bears who belched clouds liked to lope toward him and eat from his hands before floating off and away, while the firebirds who made their nests in volcanic pits did not burn him when he came near. Even the great two-headed lizard in the lake rarely raised either of its heads when Arris tossed rocks in front of it.
“Because they have no choice,” said Yzara. “Their very wills have been tamed and bound by the menagerie. They do not even know they are imprisoned.”
Arris had been horrified. “Then free them!”
“We cannot,” said Yzara. “They are too rare. Many of them are the last of their kind. If they were free, they would be hunted. It is not a perfect solution, but at least they are safe. The very least we can give them is some dignity, yes?”
Over time, the menagerie had changed. Arris had persuaded his father to stop accepting exotic beasts as gifts from other kingdoms. Slowly, the menagerie was becoming a place of rehabilitation rather than recreation. Now it was a source of pride… but Arris still couldn’t bring himself to enjoy it.
