Switched Read online

  “What was that?” Tove asked, cocking his head at me.

  “What?”

  “Something happened.” He studied me, trying to decipher my reaction, but I just shook my head. It felt like too much to explain, and I wasn’t sure that I hadn’t imagined it. “Interesting.”

  “Thanks,” I mumbled.

  “I hate to do this, since you look so frightened, but I need to get you out of my head.” He looked up at the chandelier, and my eyes followed his.

  My heart raced in my chest, and my throat felt dry. The crystal shards twinkled and chimed and started to shimmer. I took several steps back, wanting to yell at him to stop, but I didn’t even know if he’d listen. Then the whole chandelier started to sway, and I couldn’t hold back.

  “Stop!” I shouted, my voice echoing through the front hall. “Why are you doing that?”

  “I am sorry.” He exhaled deeply, and looked back down at me. I kept my eyes locked on the chandelier until I was certain it’d stopped moving. “I had to do something, and there was nothing else in the room I could move, except for you yourself, and I didn’t think you’d like that either.”

  “Why did you have to move anything?” I snapped. My panic had started to fade, replaced by a pulsating anger, and I clenched my fists at my sides.

  “When you get frightened like that, you project it so intensely.” He held up his hands, pushing them out to demonstrate. “Most people can’t hear it or feel it anymore, but I’m particularly sensitive to emotion. And when I move things, it helps focus me. It kinda shuts off the noise for a while. You were too strong. I had to silence it.” He shrugged. “I’m sorry.”

  “You didn’t need to freak me out like that.” I calmed a bit, but my words still came out hard. “Just don’t do that again, please.”

  “It’s such a shame.” Tove watched me, looking both bemused and rueful. “They won’t even be able to see what you really are. They’ve all gotten so weak that they won’t be able to tell how powerful you are.”

  “What are you talking about?” I momentarily forgot my anger.

  “Your mother is so powerful.” Tove sounded almost awed by it. “Probably not as much as you, and maybe not as much as me, but it’s in her blood, crackling like electricity. I feel her walking through a room, and she’s almost magnetized. But the rest of them . . .” He shook his head.

  “You mean the other Trylle?” I clarified, since Tove insisted on being so cryptic.

  “We used to move the earth.” He sounded wistful, and his whole demeanor had changed. He was no longer pacing or looking around, and I realized that moving the chandelier really had done something to him.

  “Are you speaking literally or metaphorically?” I asked.

  “Literally. We could make mountains, stop rivers.” He moved his arms dramatically, as if he could do those things now. “We created everything around us! We were magic!”

  “Aren’t we still magic?” I asked, surprised by the passion in his voice.

  “Not the way we were before. Once the humans created their own magic with technology, the dependence switched. They had all the power and the money, and we started to depend on them to raise our children,” he scoffed. “Changelings stopped coming back, when they realized we didn’t have that much to offer them anymore.”

  “We came back,” I pointed out emptily.

  “Your gardener, who makes the flowers bloom, she’s a Marksinna!” Tove pointed to the back of the house where the garden lay. “A gardener! I’m not one for class, but when one of the most powerful members of your population is the gardener, you know it’s a problem.”

  “Well . . . why is she a gardener, then?” I asked.

  “Because. Nobody else can do it.” He looked at me, his green eyes burning with something. “Nobody can do anything anymore.”

  “You can. I can,” I said, hoping to alleviate whatever distressed him.

  “I know.” He sighed and lowered his eyes. “Everyone’s just gotten too fixated on the human system of monarchy. With designer dresses and expensive jewels.” His lip curled with disgust. “Our obsession with riches has always been our downfall.”

  “Yeah.” I nodded. “But your mother seems to be the worst with it.”

  “I know.” Tove raised his eyebrows with weary acceptance. Something softened, and he looked almost apologetically at me. “I’m not against humans. It sounds like I am, doesn’t it?”

  “I don’t know. It sounds like you’re passionate,” I said.

  When I’d first met him, I’d mistaken his inattention as boredom and arrogance. But I was starting to think his abilities had something to do with it, giving him a kind of power-related ADD. Behind that, he had a fearless honesty that few Trylle seemed to possess.

  “Maybe.” He smiled and lowered his eyes, looking slightly embarrassed.

  “How old are you?” I asked.

  “Nineteen. Why?”

  “How do you know so much about the past? You talked about the way things were like you were there, like you saw it happen. Or like you’re a major history buff or something.”

  “My mother is keen on me studying, in case I ever get a chance for the throne,” Tove said, but the idea seemed to tire him. I doubted he was any more excited about the prospect of ruling than I was. Aurora’s scheming for the crown must be entirely her idea.

  “What’d you see when you looked at the chandelier?” Tove asked, bringing me back to his reason for being here.

  “I don’t know.” I shook my head. I wanted to answer honestly, but I didn’t know how to. “I saw . . . a painting.”

  “Some people see the future.” He stared up at the chandelier, the light twinkling above us. “And some people see the past.” He paused, thinking. “In the end, they’re not all that different. You can’t prevent either of them.”

  “How profound,” I said, and he laughed.

  “I haven’t helped you at all, have I?”

  “I don’t know,” I admitted.

  “You’re too much for one afternoon, I’m afraid,” Tove said.

  “How do you mean?” I asked, but he just shook his head.

  “I know you have a lot to go over, and you don’t need me wasting your time. I don’t know that I can help you much right now.” He walked toward the door.

  “Hey, wait,” I said, and he stopped. “You said that normally they don’t want us tapping into our abilities until after the christening. But Finn wanted you to help prepare me now. What for? Is something going on?”

  “Finn’s a protector. It’s his job to worry,” Tove explained, and my heart twisted. I hated it when people pointed out that I was just part of Finn’s job. “He needs to know that in any event, you’ll be taken care of. Whether he’s there or not.”

  “Why wouldn’t he be there?” I asked, feeling fear ripple through me.

  “I don’t know.” Tove shrugged. “But when something really matters to you, you make sure it’s safe.”

  With that, Tove turned and walked out of the house. I was grateful for his help, though I wasn’t even sure what he’d done. Other than confuse me more. And now I felt a new sense of dread settling over me.

  I had no idea what was going on with Finn, and my thoughts insisted on going back to the painting I’d seen in Elora’s secret room. I had been reaching off the balcony, looking horrified. Tove’s words echoed through my mind, sending a chill down my spine.

  You can’t prevent the future.

  I looked up at the chandelier. I’d been too terrified to even try to move it, thinking it would collapse and I’d bring Elora’s painting into life. But I hadn’t, and nothing terrible had come to pass.

  Had I changed the future? Or was the worst still to come?

  NINETEEN

  christening

  On Friday, with the party only twenty-four hours away, Elora felt the need to check on my progress, not that I blamed her. Her plan was a dress rehearsal for dinner, testing my ability to converse and eat, apparently.

&nb
sp; She didn’t want a massive audience to witness my possible failure, so she just invited Garrett, Willa, and Rhiannon over to join her, Finn, Rhys, and me. It was the biggest group she could assemble without risk of embarrassment. Since I had already met these people, I didn’t feel all that nervous, even though Elora informed me beforehand that I needed to act the same way I would tomorrow night.

  Everyone had been instructed similarly, and they all appeared far more regal than normal. Even Rhys had dressed in a blazer, and he looked rather handsome. As usual, Finn was unnecessarily attractive.

  Thanks to Finn’s random confession of jealousy, I wasn’t entirely sure how to act around him. He had come into my room before dinner to make sure that I was getting ready, and I couldn’t help but feel that he was purposely avoiding looking at me.

  When I reached the dining hall, Elora instructed us where to sit, with her at one end of the table and me at the other. Rhys and Finn flanked me, and Rhiannon, Garrett, and Willa took their places in between.

  “Who will I be sitting by tomorrow?” I asked between careful sips of wine.

  “Between Tove Kroner and I.” Elora narrowed her eyes at the drink in my hand. “Hold the glass by the stem.”

  “Sorry.” I thought I had been, but I moved my fingers, hoping I was holding it more correctly now.

  “A Princess never apologizes,” Elora corrected me.

  “Sorry,” I mumbled, then realized what I had just done and shook my head. “That was an accident. It won’t happen again.”

  “Don’t shake your head; it’s not ladylike,” Elora chastised me. “A Princess doesn’t make promises either. She might not be able to keep them, and she doesn’t want them held against her.”

  “I wasn’t really making a promise,” I pointed out, and Elora narrowed her eyes more severely.

  “A Princess is never contrary,” she said coolly.

  “I’ve only been a Princess for like a week. Can’t you give me a little break?” I asked as kindly as I could.

  I’d grown frustrated by all the Princess talk. Nearly every sentence she’d said to me in the past two days had started with “A Princess” and was followed by things that a Princess never or always did.

  “You’ve been a Princess your entire life. It’s in your blood.” Elora sat up even straighter in her chair, as if she were trying to loom over me. “You should know how to behave.”

  “I am working on it,” I grumbled.

  “Speak up. Use a clear strong voice no matter what it is you’re saying,” Elora snapped. “And you don’t have time to work on it. Your party is tomorrow. You must be ready now.”

  I wanted to snap back at her, but both Rhys and Finn were giving me warning stares to keep my mouth shut. Rhiannon stared nervously at her plate, and Garrett just went about munching his food politely.

  “I understand.” I exhaled deeply and took another drink of my wine. I’m not sure if I held the glass right this time, but Elora didn’t say anything.

  “So, I got your picture of the dress.” Willa smiled at me. “It was really stunning. I’m a little jealous, actually. You only get to be the belle of the ball once, and you definitely will be tomorrow. You’re going to look amazing.”

  She was coming to my aid, changing the subject from things I was doing wrong to something I was doing right. Even if she was a bitch to Finn and Rhiannon, I just couldn’t bring myself to hate her.

  “Thank you.” I smiled back at her gratefully.

  My final fitting had been earlier in the day, and since Willa had asked me to the other night, I sent her a picture. Finn took it on his camera phone.

  I felt very awkward posing for the photo, and it didn’t help that he never reassured me that I looked good in the dress. It felt like too much for me to pull off, and I would’ve liked a little boost just then. But Finn had simply snapped the picture, and that had been the end of that.

  “Have you seen the dress?” Willa turned to Elora, who nibbled primly at a piece of broccoli.

  “No. I trust Frederique’s designs, and Finn has final approval,” she answered absently.

  “I’m going to insist on being involved in the process when my daughter gets her gown,” Willa offered thoughtfully. Elora bristled almost imperceptibly at that, but Willa didn’t notice. “But I’ve always loved dresses and fashion. I could spend my whole life at a ball.” She looked wistful for a moment, then smiled at me again. “That’s why it’s so great that you’re here. You’re going to have such a monumental ball.”

  “Thank you,” I repeated, unsure how else to respond.

  “You had a lovely party yourself,” Garrett interjected, slightly defensive about the party he had thrown for his daughter. “Your gown was fantastic.”

  “I know.” Willa beamed immodestly. “It was pretty great.” Finn made a noise in his throat, and both Elora and Willa glared at him, but neither of them said anything.

  “My apologies. Something caught in my throat,” Finn explained, taking a sip of his wine.

  “Hmm,” Elora murmured disapprovingly, then cast a look back at me. “Oh, that reminds me. I have been too busy this week to ask you. What were your plans for your name?”

  “My name?” I asked, tilting my head to the side.

  “Yes. At the christening ceremony.” She looked at me for a moment, then turned sternly to Finn. “I thought Finn told you about it.”

  “Yes, but isn’t that name already decided?” I was definitely confused. “I mean, Dahl is the family name, isn’t it?”

  “Not the surname.” Elora rubbed her temples, clearly annoyed. “I meant your first name.”

  “I don’t understand. Why wouldn’t my name be Wendy Dahl?”

  “That isn’t a proper name for a Princess,” Elora scoffed. “Everyone changes their names. Willa used to be called something different. What was it, dear?”

  “Nikki,” Willa said. “I took the name Willa, after my mother.”

  Garrett smiled at that, and Elora tensed up slightly, then turned her focus back to me.

  “So what is it? What name would you like?” Elora pressed, possibly using me to deflect the tension.

  “I . . . I don’t know.”

  Irrationally, my heart had started pounding in my chest. I didn’t want to change my name, not at all. When Finn had told me that about the christening ceremony, I had assumed it would only be my last name. While I wasn’t thrilled about that, I didn’t care much. Eventually I would probably get married and change my name anyway.

  But Wendy, that was my name. I turned to Finn for help, but Elora noticed and snapped my attention back to her.

  “If you need ideas, I have some.” Elora spoke in a clipped tone, and she was cutting her food with irritated fervor. “Ella, after my mother. I had a sister, Sybilla. Those names are both lovely. One of our longest-running Queens was Lovisa, and I’ve always thought highly of that name.”

  “It’s not that I don’t like any of those,” I explained carefully. Although, really, I thought Sybilla was quite terrible. “I like my name. I don’t know why I have to change it.”

  Elora waved off the idea. “Wendy is a ridiculous name. It’s entirely improper for a Princess.”

  “Why?” I persisted, and Elora glared at me.

  I flat-out refused to change my name, no matter what Elora said. It’s not that I thought Wendy was a particularly fabulous name, but Matt had given it to me. He was one of the only people who had ever wanted me, and I wasn’t going to get rid of the one thing that I had left of him.

  “It is the name of a mänsklig,” Elora said through gritted teeth. “And I have had enough of this. You will find a name to suit a Princess, or I will choose one for you. Is that clear?”

  “If I am a Princess, then why can’t I decide what is proper?” I forced my voice to stay even and clear, trying not to let it shake with anger and frustration. “Isn’t that part of the glory of being a Princess, of ruling a kingdom? Having some say in the rules? And if I want my name to be Wendy, w
hy is that so wrong?”

  “No Princess has ever kept her human name, and none ever will.” Her dark eyes glared severely at me, but I met them firmly. “My daughter, the Princess, will not carry the name of a mänks.”

  There was a bitter edge dripping from the word “mänks,” and I saw Rhys’s jaw tense. I knew what it was like to grow up with a mother who hated me, but I had never been required to sit quietly while she openly made derogatory remarks about me. My heart went out to him, and I had to struggle even harder to keep from shouting at Elora.

  “I will not change my name,” I insisted. Everyone had taken to looking down at their plates while Elora and I stared each other down. This dinner had to be considered an epic failure.

  “This is not the proper place to have this discussion,” Elora said icily. She rubbed her temple, then sighed. “It’s no matter. There isn’t a discussion to be had. Your name will be changed, and clearly I will be picking it for you.”

  “That’s not fair!” Tears welled up in my eyes. “I’ve done everything you’ve asked of me. I should at least be able to keep my own name.”

  “That’s not the way things are done,” Elora replied. “You will do as I say.”

  “With all due respect,” Finn interrupted, startling everyone. “If it is as the Princess wishes, then perhaps it’s as it should be. Her wishes are going to be the highest order of the land, and this is such a simple one that I can’t imagine anyone would find offense with it.”

  “Perhaps.” Elora forced a thin smile at him, giving him a hard look, but he stared back at her, his eyes meeting hers unabashedly. “But right now my wishes are still the highest order, and until that has changed, my word will remain final.”

  Her smile deepened, growing even more menacing as she continued. “With all due respect, tracker, perhaps you care too much for her wishes and too little for her duties.” His expression faltered momentarily, but he quickly met her eyes again. “Was it not your duty to inform her of the specifics of the christening and have her completely ready for tomorrow?”