“What a fine idea of Count Alain’s,” he told Aurora.
Ahead, Prince Phillip said something to Lady Fiora. Her laugh rang out, and Aurora wanted nothing more than to tell Lord Ortolan to go away. It was only her memory of her rudeness to her aunties that made her bite the inside of her mouth and nod. “Yes. Indeed, I ought to go and thank—”
“You know,” Lord Ortolan said in his usual ponderous tones, “I was there when your father took his throne.”
King Stefan had done that by slicing the wings from Maleficent’s back and presenting them to Aurora’s grandfather. Aurora hated to think of it, and she hated the way Lord Ortolan’s tone made it sound as though, to him, this was a good memory.
“I was the one,” Lord Ortolan went on, “who showed him how to behave like a ruler. You know he grew up very poor, a shepherd’s son. Thanks to my tutelage, no one remarked on his humble beginnings. He presented himself as a king, and a king was all anyone saw. I can teach you the same things.”
“I am not like my father,” said Aurora, and the hardness in her tone surprised her.
“No, but you’re clever for a girl,” said Lord Ortolan. “You’ll learn quickly.”
One other thing Aurora hadn’t grown up with in the woods: men. She hadn’t gotten used to being dismissed by them, and she hadn’t had to figure out what to do in response.
Oblivious to Aurora’s vexation, Lord Ortolan went on. “Things are different for you, of course, being a young lady. The dangers are greater. That is why my advice is invaluable. For example, you may have noticed that Prince Phillip has been dangling after you. I believe he is here to win your land for Ulstead through marriage. Be wary of him.”
“Marriage?” Aurora echoed, startled out of her growing anger. “You think Phillip wants to marry me? You don’t understand—”
“There are some very eligible young men among your own people,” Lord Ortolan said. “And once you wed, you will no longer have the burden of ruling. When your father was king, Queen Leila had no matters of state to concern herself with. There are a few nobles that I could recommend….”
For a moment, Aurora understood the temptation Maleficent faced, with all the magic she possessed. If Aurora could have turned Lord Ortolan into a cat, she couldn’t swear that she wouldn’t have.
“Let me make this clear. I am the queen of Perceforest and the Moors, and I do not consider ruling them a burden.” She squeezed her legs more tightly against Nettle’s sides. The horse sped up, leaving Lord Ortolan and his annoying advice behind.
Chapter 6
Maleficent paced back and forth across the Moors, the hem of her long black gown sweeping over mossy rocks and loam. The charcoal feathers of her wings fluttered in the wind.
Diaval, in his raven form, pecked at beetles that scuttled along at her feet, their green wings making them appear like scattered jewels.
“She’s too sweet-natured,” Maleficent said.
There was no reply from the raven.
“Are you listening?” she asked Diaval, scowling. With a flick of her hand, he became human, crouched on the ground, a beetle still in his mouth.
He got up with a sigh, crunching the bug. His hair was as black as his wings had been, and there was something inhuman in his eyes. It comforted her.
“Always, mistress,” he said, wiping a stray leg from his lower lip. “Too sweet-natured, Aurora. Terrible personality flaw, to be sure.”
That only deepened her scowl.
“She was raised by pixies,” Maleficent went on. “In the woods. She will fall prey to deception.”
“Yes, mistress. Very probably,” agreed Diaval.
“Tell me more of what you observed,” Maleficent commanded, annoyed by his unwillingness to spar with her.
Nearby, a black cat, who had once been something else entirely, was trying to climb a tree to get at a pigeon perched on the lowest branch. The cat scratched its way up the bark only to slide back down a moment later. The pigeon—the one Aurora called Burr—appeared entirely unconcerned.
“She was out riding,” said Diaval. “That boring old wiffle-waffle of an advisor was in Aurora’s ear.”
“What of the prince?” Maleficent asked.
“Riding with the men-at-arms, perhaps to evade several young ladies attempting to separate him from the herd.”
She began to pace again, her brow furrowing. “And the count who invited her?”
“As far as I can tell, they barely spoke a word to each other,” Diaval said.
“For now.” Maleficent pulled Aurora’s note from the folds of her gown and smoothed it out, perusing it once again.
Her gaze fell on the cat. Diaval had found it and persuaded Maleficent to bring it to the Moors, on the theory that it might not know how to do cat things very well yet. It seemed to her, from the way it watched him in raven form, that it was catching on perfectly well.
Her lip curled as her gaze went to the castle and her frustration mounted. “I mislike Aurora being so far away from us. Would it have been so terrible if she’d remained asleep for just a little bit longer?”
“Mistress,” said Diaval, genuine surprise on his face.
“Only a teensy bit,” Maleficent said with a pout. “Until she was twenty-five, perhaps.”
Diaval didn’t answer, but it was clear that he thought she had gone too far.
Maleficent gave a great sigh. “We will just have to make sure nothing happens to her. Now that the curse is broken, she can be protected and safe. Always.”
“Are you speaking of your, uh, flowers?” Diaval asked.
The blooms were coming along quite nicely, Maleficent thought. Every week the bushes gained a foot in height, the branches becoming denser, the stinging parts growing ever longer and sharper. Eventually, they would be the size of daggers, long enough to pierce a man’s heart. That would keep Perceforest safe, even if—according to her note—Aurora wasn’t convinced they were necessary.
Maleficent frowned. “If only she would terrify them, fill them with awe and fear. Humans love nothing that does not fill them with fear.”
“I’m not afraid of you,” he said.
She looked at him for a long moment, not sure she had heard him correctly. “And?”
“Oh, nothing,” he continued. “I suppose I’m not human.”
“No,” said Maleficent, placing her finger under his chin, her sharp nail pressing against his skin. “Nor, as you remind me regularly, would you want to be. Now, do you know what I expect of you?”
He raised a single brow. “One never can be entirely sure, mistress.”
“I expect you not to fail me,” she said, turning away from him in a sweep of black cloth. She looked over her shoulder. “Or Aurora. Now let us go to her.”
Diaval blinked back at Maleficent, something of the bird still in the tilt of his head. “She is not afraid of you, either, you know. She never has been. And she is entirely human.”
Chapter 7
Still fuming, Aurora urged her horse ahead of Lord Ortolan.
“Was he prosing on?” Lady Fiora asked, falling back to ride alongside Aurora. She glanced over her shoulder at the advisor. “The old fossil. I suppose he hopes to bore you into letting him get control of your treasury.”