Lauren Fairrose's Arc

Chapter 2 of 3

By morning, a small painted portrait moved hand to hand at court. Two girls smiled out of it, crowned in flowers — Rosalind and Lauren, side by side. Courtiers whispered behind it. They said a voice had called the prince to the falls. They said the face never came. Lauren saw the picture pass and felt her stomach drop. If the whisper reached Prince Jeffery, she was done. Prince Jeffery heard it at the base of the great redwood tower. A page held the little portrait up to him. He looked. He looked again. He spoke plain. "That is Rosalind. And that is not Rosalind." The other girl's face stuck in his mind. The voice at the falls had sounded close to Rosalind, but not the same. Rosalind loved Prince Shelldon Maritime. He knew that. So the voice had been someone else. Someone in this picture, maybe. He walked the path himself. The carved wooden sign pointed the way through the leaves. He stood by the water and waited. No one came. Only Frocklin the cold stepped from the trees. She said a woman had been playing tricks. She said the voice was a cruel joke. Prince Jeffery did not argue. He only asked one thing. "The other girl in the portrait. Where is she?" Frocklin smiled small. She pointed past the trees. "The cabin with the stone fireplace," she said. "The one wrapped in vines." Lauren sat by her fire when the knock came. She opened the door and saw him there. His eyes were steady. He held the little portrait in his hand. "I came to speak with you," he said. Not Rosalind. Her. She stepped back to let him in. The rumor had not unmasked her. It had delivered him.