Midnight in Everwood(41)
Taking the moment to compose herself, to steady her growing anxiety, she stepped free of the captain and turned to address the king. ‘It has been an honour to perform for you, but perhaps it would be best if I took my leave of you as it seems I am not suited to be a guest of the king after all. I really must be returning home.’
‘Oh my little dancer, you are na?ve. When you leave here it will be because I no longer possess the desire to see you dance. And your departure shall not take you through those doors.’ He snapped his fingers and the magic seized hold of Marietta once more.
She was pulled up onto her toes, her limbs contorted into positions that ripped a scream from her lips. He continued speaking but Marietta could scarcely hear past the pain that swelled and consumed her. ‘I suggest you spend your time dwelling upon how better to entertain me rather than foolish notions of leaving the palace.’
Glistening snowflakes trickled down Marietta’s dress in a river of melted pewter. Her tulle drooped. Still she danced on her toes, never once given a moment’s respite.
King Gelum laughed. It was thin and high and cold, a shard of ice stabbing through Marietta. His glimmer of interest was colder. This was a king that revelled in pain like tyrannical monarchs of old. Marietta’s heart beat harder, aware of her own vulnerability as she glanced around the grand room and saw it for the first time as it really was – a gilded cage. This close, his perfumed suit was overbearing, the clove-spiced mandarin bitter. An enchanted mouse ran across his jacket and dived beneath his collar. ‘My palace is enchanted,’ he said in a low, intimate voice. ‘It recognises that you’re mine. And it will keep you ensorcelled within it.’ Slowly he feasted his eyes on her bloody ballet slippers. She fought not to flinch. ‘Soon you shall learn your proper place, my little dancer.’ In a whirl of his garish cape, he resumed his seat at the throne and summoned a server. A girl dressed in a striped red and white skirt held out a box of tiny cakes to him.
‘Now for the question of your punishment,’ he said, regarding the cakes.
‘Do you not consider this sufficient punishment?’ Captain Legat asked. ‘I presume you wish for her to continue dancing.’
The king slowly bit into a cake; its chocolate casing splintered. ‘She will dance when commanded, regardless of her punishment. A true artist soldiers through mere discomfort in the pursuit of their craft.’
Marietta’s blood beaded onto the ice. ‘I dance only for myself,’ she whispered.
King Gelum frosted over.
Captain Legat stilled. He met her eyes and gave an imperceptible shake of his head.
‘I dance for no one else. My dancing has always been and shall always be my own,’ Marietta repeated, weak and unable to articulate her rage and passionate defiance. ‘This is not dance, this is cruelty.’ The magic spun her in place, a wicked parody of her words.
King Gelum’s frosted exterior cracked. He bestowed a charming smile upon her. ‘How quaint the world you hark from must be.’ Marietta regarded him warily. ‘Dance for yourself, you shall. Henceforth, I am withholding all sustenance from you until you have earnt your keep. Unless you wish to perish, you will perform for me.’
He released Marietta from her magical bonds. She sank onto the ice with a cry.
King Gelum strode from his throne. ‘Take her away. I cannot bear the sight of her after her brazenness.’
Captain Legat knelt beside her. He offered a hand.
Marietta disregarded it. She rose to her feet, crying out for the second time as the pain threatened to overwhelm her. The captain quickly escorted her out of the throne room.
It wasn’t until they were ascending the stairs that he spoke. ‘I warned you not to set foot in the palace to begin with. Now, not only have you courted the attention of the king, but you’ve incited his wrath. If you had heeded my caution in the stables, you would already be safely returned to your own world by now.’
Marietta could scarcely think. Her legs were numb, her pointe shoes tattered and stained. ‘Why are others always blamed in arousing a man’s anger?’ she asked quietly. ‘You know nothing of me nor my life yet you make assumptions ascertained from the brief period in which you’ve known me. Well, Captain Legat, I hasten to inform you that you do not know me, nor is my return to my own world the simple matter you believe it to be.’
She glanced up after his silence had lasted several beats. He was frowning.
‘Other than the obvious, why is your return not a simple matter?’
She had not expected an apology. Neither did she expect his response to rankle her, not when she remained in such pain, her feet growing numb and unfeeling, her prospects bleak and fearsome as an eternal night. ‘I do not wish to discuss it. Besides which, I believe you’ll find that you were the one who brought me to the palace.’
The captain now appeared equally rankled. It satisfied Marietta to see his mask splinter, his eyebrows ride high. ‘Now who is being accusatory? You were the one who chose to enter the ball, who then resolved to dance, after I had expressively forbidden you from both.’
‘I did not choose to be brought here, or indeed to this world,’ Marietta said, continuing to climb the spiral staircase. She bit back a wince and he held his hand out to aid her. She did not take it.
Captain Legat withdrew his hand, his expression shuttering. ‘Do not fear, the next time I happen to encounter you in a forest, I shall most certainly leave you at the mercy of the shadows.’