Aurora wanted to say that she hadn’t been lonely—not with her aunties and Diaval and her godmother—but that wasn’t entirely true. She hadn’t had a playmate her own age. She hadn’t had anyone to engage in games with and confide her secrets to, at least not until—
She pushed that thought away. “I hope we will have fun,” she said as Lady Fiora walked up, clearly overhearing the conversation.
“Since you’re planning on dancing,” Lady Fiora said, “have you thought who you will have lead you out to open the festivities? Someone must bring you out onto the floor.”
Aurora hadn’t considered that.
Lady Sybil giggled. “Yes, everyone will want your hand, and everyone will be watching to see who you choose. That’s so terribly exciting.”
“You should dance with Prince Phillip,” said Lady Sabine. “He’s very handsome, don’t you think?”
“Oh, yes,” said her sister. “And a prince, so his rank is second only to yours. Perhaps Ulstead would even be offended if you didn’t give him the first dance. After all, no one else can claim quite so much consequence.”
Aurora thought of his resolution to wear heavy shoes so that she could tread on his feet as much as she liked, and smiled. If she could open the dancing with him, she could relax. He would guide her through the steps without judging her for not knowing them even half as well as any other girl from one of the noble houses would have.
“I suppose I could dance with him if it’s the polite thing to do,” she said, hoping it wasn’t obvious what a relief that would be.
But Lady Fiora looked uncertain. “It might seem as though you prefer him to your other suitors,” she said.
“Suitors?” Aurora echoed. “No, no, he’s leaving for Ulstead, as you yourself told me.”
For a moment, she couldn’t help thinking about the night before and his nervousness. He’d wanted to tell her something even after finding out she knew about his going back to Ulstead. And as he’d begun to speak, before her godmother arrived, she’d been afraid that maybe he was going to tell her about something awful. Something worse than leaving. What if he anticipated being busy with his studies and wanted to warn her that he would no longer have time for her? What if he no longer even wished to keep her as a distant friend?
Perhaps Maleficent was right to worry. If the thought of losing friendship was this painful, losing love must be terrible.
Lady Sybil looked as disappointed as Aurora felt. “I suppose you could choose an elder statesman. Dancing with someone like that could offend no one, but it does seem very dull.”
Opening the dancing with someone like the fusty Lord Ortolan would be awful.
“Perhaps I just shouldn’t dance at all,” Aurora said, but the girls immediately disabused her of that notion.
“Oh, you must dance!” Lady Sybil said. “If you don’t, it will be as though you’re saying you don’t approve of it. No one will dance if you don’t.”
“I think my brother could be helpful,” said Lady Fiora. “Surely no one would think it was exceptional if you walked out with someone from your own land, someone whose family has been loyal for so long. And you know he’s the height of elegance.”
Aurora thought of the cold iron necklace. “I don’t think—” At that moment, her aunts flew into the room in their colorful bright gowns.
“Aurora!” said Knotgrass. “We would like your thoughts on some garlands.”
“Yes,” said Thistlewit. “I prefer daisies, but—”
“Bluebells would be better,” said Flittle.
“Everyone likes peonies,” insisted Knotgrass.
“So you see, my dear,” said Thistlewit, “you must decide. We wish to drape your festival in flowers. Though it will be hard work to conjure so many petals, you know there’s nothing we won’t do for your happiness.”
“Well, very little,” said Flittle.
“Only a few things,” Knotgrass put in.
Aurora grinned at them as they bickered. They could be silly and sometimes selfish, but they were always also her own dear aunts. “All those flowers are lovely. Let’s have all of them!”
“Delightful!” said Knotgrass. “But are you sure you wouldn’t prefer just peonies?”
Lady Sabine and Lady Sybil stared at the pixies hovering in place by the buzzing of their bright wings. They appeared thrilled to meet Aurora’s aunts.
“We were just discussing my first partner for the dancing,” said Aurora to Flittle. “Who do you think it ought to be, Auntie?”
“As I was saying—” began Lady Fiora, frowning.
“A contest!” said Flittle. “Let someone win your hand.”
Lady Sybil and Lady Sabine began praising the little faerie’s ingenuity. Flittle appeared immensely flattered by the attention, while the other two pixies grew more and more annoyed.
“I might have said the same thing,” said Knotgrass.
“You didn’t, though, did you?” teased Thistlewit.
Lady Fiora looked speculative. “I suppose…no one could be offended if we have a contest among your people for the honor of leading you onto the floor for the first dance. And you did say you wanted games, my queen.”
There really could be no objection to that, Aurora thought. It might even be fun.
“It’s brilliant,” she said, giving Flittle a hug, surprising the faerie. “Now we’ve only to think of what sort of contest we should have.”
“Not a game of chance,” said Lady Sybil. “Too chancy.”
“A riddle contest,” Aurora declared. A contest of cleverness would please the faeries—and if she had any other reason for choosing that particular skill, she never would have admitted it, even to herself.
The twins clapped their hands, delighted.
“Perfect,” said Lady Sabine. “Now it’s just a question of when to hold it!”
“Now, of course,” said Lady Fiora. “Why not? We can assemble all the likely gentlemen. It will be a good game to while away the afternoon.”
But the more Aurora considered that, the more she disliked the idea of the Fair Folk and the villagers being excluded. “The riddle contest should be part of the festival itself,” she said. “Peasant or noble, faerie or human, anyone with the will and the wit can open the dancing with me.”
Lady Fiora looked appalled. “B-but you could wind up standing up with someone loathsome. Or filthy. Or who reeks of onion and cabbages.” She held her pretty little nose.
“So long as they’re very good at riddles,” Aurora agreed, “and don’t mind my stepping on their toes.”
Chapter 18
The night before the festival, Phillip set off for the Moors on horseback to dine with the faeries.
When Aurora had claimed she knew what he wanted to tell her, his heart had stuttered. Then she’d declared his news was that he was leaving Ulstead. He ought to have corrected her. But he hadn’t. He had let her believe that was the reason he had come to the Moors and had asked her to walk with him. It had seemed harmless. He had told himself he would be able to confess his love anyway, just a bit later. And the words were on the tip of his tongue as Maleficent had arrived.
This time, he knew he had to spit them out.
Through the woods he rode, the moon high in the sky. In time the foliage grew dense, the air became thick with the sweet scents of flowers, and the ground filled up with pools of water, reflecting the stars.
A few moments later, small glowing faeries descended on him, flitting around his head and giggling.