✦ "but where is your ... your castle?" her voice is a thin ribbon, exhaustion flushed her cheeks. her hair fell loose around her shoulders, the white of her dress that she had painstakingly sewn her family's treasures into is stained with the mud and leaves, ripped through by the brambles of the woods. ( still, she glittered. her mother's pearls for the bodice, her father's well-watched gold within the hem, the dowry she had to pay. ) for all of that, she still carried starlight in the blue of her eyes. perhaps he will pluck those out first, add them to his collection. "we've been wandering for hours, dear christophe. my feet are sore. we ... we must be coming upon it soon?"
hours. he could laugh. oh, it has been days since the sweet girl wandered from the safety of her home, running rose-red into his arms. her father had been wise, burying an iron rod beneath the threshold to keep creatures like him out. but oh, he whispered his words in the ears of the flowers that she picked, he spoke of a heart that broke when she left, of a castle without a bride, of a love that could only begin with her name. it was so easy, he plucked those dreams she held in those starry eyes and danced them to light until he only had to say come, come with me & she ran, the lark singing bright in her heart. her parents will have wept themselves cold by now, fearing the worse for their sweet, trusting daughter.
but how could she know that? time stretched itself soft here, languishing between the eves. the skies overhead were an unmoving twilight, the breaking stars just beginning to crest perpetually on the horizon. he held onto her hand, guiding her through the thick bramble of the woods. the edges of the wood were bright and green and for the most part, they belonged to man. but when the skies darkened to shades of fairy laughter and violet wine, however, the brambles would sharpen their thorns and point deeper in. maps would lose their meanings as the paths would shift. the further into the woods you wandered, the sharper the teeth on the creatures that watched you with greed in their eyes.
christophe does not turn around. the illusion that she loved, the prince with that bleeding heart and doleful eyes, has winked away. even him, born out of the poison of the belladonna blossom that threaded its dark roots deep in this place, even his magic had to yield to the strangeness of this place. ( it is a common misconception that the fae came with the realm — no. it is much older and far more wicked than ever they could be. ) "it's only a bit more, my love. only a bit more! i know you're tired but we're nearly there."
"but ... we've never come across a town or-or even a road! a path! i don't know where i am anymore and i-i'm frightened, christophe!"
he stops. the woods are quiet, the dripping velvet of the evening drenches everything and hushes it. his face caught in that shadow and she can only see the barest hint of his profile, the edge of his smile. "you do trust me, my love, don't you? you know that i would never bring you to harm. i have risked life and my heart to find you. don't you trust me?"
it is such a small thought but it is so clear in her mind: have his teeth always been so sharp?
"come, my darling. they are waiting for us."
the realm catches on the magic of that word and it blooms a rot inside of her. she squeezes his hand, the stars in his eyes dimming as she smiles, comforted. come, he says. & she will go. oh, she will go wherever it is that he led her. it could be the ocean to drown her, the woods to kill her, the castle to love her and she will go. the magic of that word fastens on her wishes, on her desires, on her dreams and it ushers her into the woods.
& then, oh so sweetly, she could hear the music.
