Enough of this nonsense. She was losing her hold on the mirror's image. And all the stupid agonizing had been for nothing, because now she realized that Finist wasn't in the forest at all.
Wonderful. Just wonderful. Then where in the name of God was he?
Delicately, Ljuba widened the scope of her search. She saw the hint of a city… Stargorod! Bewildered, Ljuba hunted for the essence that was Finist‑carefully, lest he detect her prying. Yes, there he was, and with someone…
With a little hiss of fury, Ljuba recognized the peasant wench. That plain, nameless little slut-But Ljuba stopped, noticing the woman's clothing for the first time. Rich, silken brocade… And her surroundings were never that of a peasant's hut, not with those elegant furnishings…
«No!» moaned Ljuba. «Damn her!»
This was no peasant, no common little light-of‑love to be used and discarded. This was a noblewoman, a boyar's child, no doubt of it! That made her a genuine rival. And Finist—
«Oh, no, Finist! You won't get away with this!» Ljuba said viciously.
«I think that he will, lady.»
The quiet, unexpected voice made Ljuba whirl in surprise.
«Semyon! How dare you enter without — "
«My apologies, lady. Royal orders. And the door was unbarred.» The old boyar gave her the most courtly of bows. «My Prince left me this command, lady. If you were found to be using your mirrors to—ah—observe him about his business, all reflective surfaces were to be removed from your presence. My Prince and his father both trained me to be sensitive to the feel of anyone attempting such scryings, and so…»
Enraged to speechlessness, Ljuba could only gasp, «You dare!»
«Those are the prince's orders.»
«I—I'll — " Ljuba floundered helplessly for words as embarrassed servants searched her quarters, removing mirrors, silver perfume flasks, anything which might hold a reflection. «Stop! Don't— You can't— Oh, curse you, leave me alone!» But she didn't dare offer any real resistance, because resistance to a royal command was as good as treason, and she didn't dare cast any sort of suspicion on herself, not now.
«One thing more, lady," Semyon said softly. «This too is the prince's command: you are to be confined here within your palace, within these private quarters, until Prince Finist returns.»
The look of grim satisfaction on the boyar's face was just too much for Ljuba. Suddenly unable to hide her hatred, she stared into Semyon's eyes and hissed, «If I ruled Kirtesk, old man, you'd be wise to flee for your life!»
He didn't so much as flinch. «Then it's fortunate for us both that you do not, lady. I make a very poor runner. Good day to you.»
Chapter XXV
Revelations
For a moment, Maria could only stare at her elegant visitor and try frantically to muster her bewildered thoughts. It wasn't helping that he was fair, so very fair, with those fine, high cheekbones and shining hair… She supposed that the proper thing to do would be to scream for help. But this was hardly some common intruder. He had been a falcon just a moment ago…
Well now, Maria admitted to herself, I'm certainly not going to call for help until I find out who he really is, and why he's come.
«Finist the falcon," she echoed, rather amazed at how calm she sounded. «That doesn't tell me very much. Who is Finist the falcon?»
«No one to harm you.» His amber eyes—hawk eyes, thought Maria—were very bright. «Ever.» He hesitated a moment, then said simply, «Lady, I am Finist, Prince of Kirtesk.»
Kirtesk… «Oh. Oh! The magician-prince!» To her astonishment, she felt herself grinning. «Oh, my. You'd - better not let my father know you're here. He—ah‑doesn't care for magicians.»
He grinned in return. «I know. That's precisely why I didn't appear to him.»
There was something about his voice, something so teasingly familiar… But that was impossible! «And why have you appeared?» Maria asked, adding belatedly, «Your Highness — "
«No, please, that's not necessary!»
But now she'd placed that voice. «Finn… ?» she whispered.
«You know me?» That came out as such a yelp of astonishment that Maria had to bite back a laugh.
«Then you are Finn! But why this disguise?»
«Ah, no, what you see now is my true self.»
«Then why… ?»
«Was I hiding all that time as lowly Finn?» He sighed. «Because, thanks to my own foolishness, I got caught aloft, in falcon-form, by a storm that finally dumped me close to where your father found me.»
Maria nodded. «And it wouldn't have been wise for a prince alone in a foreign realm to advertise his presence.»
«I bow to your wisdom.»
«But what I don't understand…» Maria stopped, horrified to feel tears welling up in her eyes, then determinedly started again, «What I don't understand is why you slipped away from us like‑like some criminal, without so much as a farewell.»
«Oh, Maria!» Finist breathed. «I never meant to hurt you, believe me! It's only that I had to be elsewhere, swiftly. And knowing your father's views on magic, I didn't want to frighten you by taking falcon-form in front of you.» He took a wary step forward. «Am I forgiven?»
«It's not for me to forgive a prince.»
«Please, don't…» He stopped, studying her with a birdlike tilt of the head. And Maria, bewildered, saw a hint of joy lighten the fine-boned face. «Ahh," the prince said, very softly, «but this is something more than mere insulted pride, isn't it?»
Maria felt a little shiver run through her at the brightness of that amber gaze. Despite herself, she found herself remembering becoming so sharply aware of Finn as male, as desirable… He was still desirable, more so in this new, exotic guise…
And this was a dangerous train of thought! Alarmed at herself, Maria said, a bit too sharply, «I don't know what you mean.»
«Don't you?» There was the faintest, most alluring hint of wildness hidden in that urbane voice. «Maria…»
Hastily she took a step back. «That dream was your doing, wasn't it? The one about seeking out the feather— your feather! Yes? But, why?»
To her amazement, he reddened. «I was afraid.»
«Afraid!»
«Oh, yes. I couldn't think of any more direct way to introduce myself, as myself, as a magician. I thought you might share your father's views.»
«About magic.» Maria thought of the forest, and the leshy, and smiled faintly in spite of herself. «No. He'd probably have me in a convent for saying this, but no, I don't fear it. But that doesn't explain what you're doing here! Unless… There were rumors at court about you, and‑It was you, wasn't it? Speaking to Prince Svyatoslav, I mean, clearing Father's name‑it was you.»
«Yes. Oh no, Maria, don't.»
She'd swept down to the floor in a deep curtsey. «Prince Finist, I offer the deepest gratitude of my father and myself.»
«Please, Maria.» He knelt beside her. «I couldn't not have done it, for the sake of justice. And… for your sake. But I didn't come here to hear words of thanks.»
Before she could rise, he captured her hands in his. Confused, overwhelmed by his nearness, Maria looked up into the bright amber eyes, wondering, seeing something of the same wonder she felt mirrored in their depths.
«Then… you can care for me…» Finist breathed after a time. «You can, you do!»
Maria panicked. Struggling to free her hands, she gasped, «No, I… Finist, please, this—this is improper. If my father should — "
«Come, admit it!»
«Please! Finn—akh, I mean Finist— You've got me so confused I don't know what I mean! Let me up.»