Read Online Iron Chamber of Memory by John C. Wright - Free Book Online

much as a glance over her shoulder. Released from her outer garments, her curvaceous beauty put the pale and boyish charms of the other young ladies to shame. A few steps into the assembly hall, she had paused. Standing merrily aloof, with an arrow-like smile upon the bow of her lips, she surveyed the chamber like a queen reviewing her court. Something about her reminded him of the ladies of antiquity, a Nimue or Lynette, plotting how best to ensnare the wary Merlin or lead some hapless knight astray.
    As she looked out at the gathered company, however, a weariness came over her face, as if she, too, had pierced the veil of the evening and discerned the banality hidden beneath the shining veneer of gaiety. The look passed over her for an instant, and then was gone. Then, she hid her ennui beneath a cloak of good cheer and sailed forth to join in the festivities.
    However, in that moment, her eyes had locked with Henry’s. In each other’s eyes, they recognized the same discontent with the offerings of this modern world, the same longing for something finer, that they both felt in their own hearts.
    Henry recalled very little about the rest of the event, except for her scent, her swaying grace, her smile, the way she had felt in his arms as they waltzed.

True Love
    His mind still whirling from the sensation of stepping into the Rose Crystal Chamber, Henry smiled and spoke of what he recalled. “Sibyl invited Manfred to a swank party in London, and he took me along as moral support. Margaret, the Countess of Devon, introduced you to Manfred. You wore a blue shoulderless gown with a plunging neckline with a silver choker with an opal stone and matching opal earrings. You and Manfred had disliked each other at first sight. The marriage was suggested—strongly suggested, otherwise Manfred would be cut out of the family funds, and booted from school—in order to block some sort of political shenanigans. You never loved him.”
    “Yes on the plunging, no on the blue. I wore red,” Laureline said, “And this house?”
    Henry said, “I remember now. Manfred first invited me here four years ago. It was beautifully furnished and appointed. His cousins lived here while Sibyl was in London. Two years ago, you were here, with Manfred, with me … and…”
    He dropped his hands from her shoulders, and pulled out his little black memorandum book. There it was, written in his own handwriting, on the first page.
You are in love with Laureline du Lac, and have sworn to break the spell of forgetting that separates you, and promised to marry her.
    Every weekend for two years, you have tricked or lured yourself to come to the Rose Crystal Chamber in the North Wing.
    Only when you enter here, can you see and read these words.
    Only when you enter here, do you remember love.
    “I am yours,” Laureline murmured softly, “not his.”

Only When You Enter Here
    “How is this possible?” Henry muttered furiously, rubbing his temples. “I mean, scientifically, how is it possible? Is there a gas in the air? Some hypnotic power in the lamp…”
    She said, “Give it a moment. It will slowly come back to you. If we are careful, you and I, we can write ourselves notes to remind or trick or lure us into coming back in here. Leaving a book behind that you need for your research or something.” She drew out a notebook smaller than the palm of her hand, bound in tooled pink leather. It had the slenderest possible little pencil tucked in the spine, with an equally dainty tassel.
    “See?” She held her little book up, opened a page.
Friday: Unlock the Rose Door for H; he left his Mallory in the desk. V Important!
    She said, “But if I write any plain and open words, words of love, my eye cannot see them, not when I am in the Out-of-Doors World. Only here in the Inner World. We’ve experimented before, tried dozens of things. You forget the moment your heart passes over the threshold of the door or window. Yes, you tried climbing out the