Read Enchanted Hearts Page 10


  Chapter Seven

  Aithne

  The crowd was loud—the village meeting had not yet started. From the looks of things, most had come to see who would be declared the Midsummer Night’s Mother Earth and Sun King, and I couldn’t stop fidgeting. If there was ever a year I was desperate to hear my name called, it was this one.

  “Don’t fret, Aithne. I promise you, I woke up this morning with a good feeling. I also found a four leaf clover on my way to your house. See,” Dierdre held it up, and sure enough there were four petals. “Luck is on our side.”

  “Let’s hope so,” I replied nervously, my head craned to see who else was here. Sure enough, Cora was preening herself, surrounded by her friends. She caught me staring, and cast me a smug smile. She tossed her blond curls over her shoulder, ready to gloat when her name was called.

  “Ignore her, she’s an evil wench.”

  “Who’s an evil wench?” I was startled to find William standing beside me, looking to see who we were talking about.

  “No one,” I answered.

  “Cora,” Dierdre scoffed.

  William turned and surveyed the small group of giggling girls. “I wouldn’t worry too much, Aithne. You are by far the prettier choice.” His face flushed slightly before he coughed and stuck his hands in his pockets.

  “You will no doubt be asked to play the Sun King this year, William. I bet my lucky pebble on it.” Dierdre gushed. I grinned at my friend—her excitement contagious. To her, everything was magical and held some ability to increase a person’s fortune—the blue ribbon in my hair a testament.

  “You keep your treasure.” He chuckled. “I’m quite content to go as myself.”

  “Wouldn’t it be romantic if Aithne and you were chosen?”

  Both William and I shot embarrassed looks at Deirdre—blushing. I was mortified that he’d been put on the spot, and I didn’t want him to feel he need answer. The look of horror on his face said it all, and I was spared from further comments by the hush that came over the crowd. William also looked relieved. Dierdre remained oblivious.

  “We’ll soon find out. Mayor Brimhal is here,” I whispered. I spied the older gentleman passing through the crowd before rising up on the makeshift platform.

  Mayor Brimhal, John to those who knew him privately, was an old friend of my father. Many a night they would sit before the fireplace, talk politics, and smoke their pipes until my mother called her husband to bed. Lately they’d taken to fishing, and it warmed my heart to know their friendship continued to be strong.

  Village members stopped their chatter—paying respect to the man they’d voted their leader. He was honest, hardworking, fair, and at this very moment, had everyone waiting anxiously for his announcement.

  “Welcome, welcome. It’s so good to see so many of you this fine morning.” He regarded the crowd with a proud smile on his face as he patted his side pockets and retrieved a piece of paper. “I won’t waste any of your time and keep you from your labors. How about I tell you who holds this year’s honor?”

  “Yes, tell us!” The crowd cried out, and I grinned at Deirdre. It seems we weren’t the only ones excited to find out. I joined in and cheered—my heart racing in my chest.

  Lowering his glasses, he cleared his throat. “Mother Earth will be represented by none other than Aithne Gowan.” A cheer erupted as my hand covered my mouth and tears formed in my eyes. Dierdre threw her arms around my neck as she shrieked, and I saw Cora huff indignantly.

  Mayor Brimhal waited for the applause to subside, straightened his note, and cleared his throat. “Finally, the Sun King will be . . .” He paused for dramatic effect. “William Dunstan.”

  A cry pierced the air as Cora screeched in dismay before storming off. She was closely followed by her gaggle of friends who were desperately trying to comfort her, and I struggled to hide my smile. I knew Cora had coveted the role as Mother Earth, but judging by her reaction, she’d set her sights on the Sun King too. I turned to offer my congratulations to a stunned William. “Seems like we’ll be spending most of the evening festivities together.” I gave him a quick embrace before I was pulled from his arms by an enthusiastic Dierdre.

  “I knew it! Didn’t I tell you?”

  I kept my gaze on William’s face, watching his stunned look gently fade into a soft smile. His eyes grew wide as though he’d just realized something, and he nodded his head. I was curious about what he was thinking but didn’t get the chance to query him. We were slowly surrounded by friends and fellow villagers—each wanting to give advice and well wishes.

  The attention was making me somewhat lightheaded. I was pulled to and fro into different conversations but from the corner of my eye, I swore I saw Hadrian standing separately. No one else noticed him, too caught up in the merriment.

  His name touched my lips, and I moved to approach him. The distance between us was too great as the endless stream of people flocked around me. I kept my focus on him, to bid him wait, as I nodded distractedly at the person speaking.

  He smiled in return.

  “Who are you looking at, Aithne?” Dierdre whispered in my ear, causing me to look away and break eye contact.

  “No . . . no one,” I stammered, and I wanted to cry as I looked back to where Hadrian had been standing and found it empty.

  She followed the direction of my glance and lightly touched my arm. “That was no mere stranger that has you looking so crestfallen. Who was he? A secret lover you’ve been hiding?” Her last comment came out louder than expected and those standing nearby turned for me to answer.

  “Not here,” I replied. I was desperate to discuss a different topic—my heart still pounding over Hadrian. “Come, let’s escape and find somewhere much quieter.”

  Not waiting to say goodbye to William, I dragged poor Dierdre behind me. My mind was racing, my emotions in turmoil, and I knew the time for confession had approached. We didn’t stop until we were down at my favorite spot by the river. Finally letting go of her hand, I whirled around to face my dearest friend.

  “Please don’t be angry with me. I meant to tell you, truly. I just didn’t know how, and in the beginning I didn’t even know if it was real.” The words came rushing from me, and a wave of relief washed over me as I spoke. “You have no idea how glad I am that you saw him.”

  “Who is he? I know he’s not from the village. How did you even meet? Is he someone associated with your brother? He doesn’t look as though he’s from around these parts?” True to form, Deirdre asked question after question, barely pausing long enough to take a breath before firing the next one.

  “His name is Hadrian,” I answered. “And he’s Fae.” I watched as a stunned expression covered her face before she tipped back her head and laughed.

  “Come now, enough secrets. There’s no need to lie. I won’t tell anyone if that’s your concern.” She stared at me—her mirth instantly faded when she saw I was serious. “Oh, Aithne, I know we used to talk about the Tuatha de Daanan and tell stories of love and romance, but we were children. Surely, you jest.”

  “Can you see why I was hesitant to confide anything? I had difficulty enough believing without having to convince you. Dierdre, without doubt, Hadrian is who he says he is. He’s taken me to a place just outside the Otherworld and has shown me all kinds of magic. If that isn’t enough,” I dipped my hand into my pocket to remove further proof, “Here’s the gift he made me.”

  I balanced the small flower sculpture in my palm. I still couldn’t stop marveling over the fine details or the memory I held of Hadrian creating it. My breath caught slightly as Deidre lifted it for closer inspection, her own gasp escaping her mouth.

  “This is incredible. It’s so perfect.” Her eyes were wide with wonder and she carefully handed it back to me. “How long has this been going on?” She asked, leading me to sit by the water’s edge.

  “I have only met him twice, and although we both know nothing more can come from it, I’ve fallen in love. I can’t stop thin
king about him and these feelings go beyond any enchantment. I love Hadrian.”

  Dierdre appeared to ponder my words, shaking her head gently. “I’d noticed a change in you the past few days, but in all honestly, I’d hoped it was because of William.”

  “William? What does he have to do with this?” I asked bewildered.

  “Aithne, the boy wears his heart on his sleeve for you. I’ve been waiting for him to gather enough courage and finally ask to court you. You don’t know?”

  I bent my head, covering my face with my hands. William was in love with me? How had I not noticed?

  “Please don’t tell me anymore. Please.” I groaned.

  “What’s the matter? This should be an easy choice. No matter how intriguing you may find this Hadrian, you yourself just said nothing can come from it. He is Fae and you are human. William—someone you have known from childhood—will make his move, and I know he can make you happy.”

  “But I don’t want to choose.” I knew how horribly selfish it sounded, but the thought of making a choice created a sense of panic within me. “I know William would be the wiser of the two, and I have loved him. But my heart can’t let go of Hadrian—not yet.”

  “Maybe it’s time to grow up,” my friend added softly. There was no cruelty in her words, no anger. I knew what lay within her heart, and I looked up at her with tears in my eyes.

  “Must I? Is there no other way?”

  She chuckled and pulled me into a tight embrace. “To be caught between two beaus and not know where your love should be placed. Don’t fret. A decision doesn’t have to be made right this minute. Just be careful. There may be more than just your heart at stake here.”

  I took hold of her words and carried them with me as we moved on to lighter subjects. Soon we were deep in conversation about the upcoming festivities and my role as Mother Earth. We avoided the subject of William as the Sun King, although I imagined she had to bite her tongue several times to refrain from bringing it up.

  I saw no more of Hadrian, even on the way home later that afternoon. To say I was confused was an understatement, but I took comfort in knowing that—at least for today—I was free to follow wherever whim and fancy would lead me.