Princess of Shadows: The Princess and the Pea Retold (Fairy Tale Adventures Book 1)

by A. G. Marshall

  “There is something wrong with the gowns, Princesses?”

  Carina smiled at Hilda. Her face was radiant when she wasn’t trying to blend.

  “The gowns are lovely, but those sleeves are shockingly short! Does everyone in Aeonia show their wrists so freely?”

  Hilda stiffened.

  “This evening wear is hardly scandalous, Princess. I designed these gowns myself.”

  Carina blushed.

  “I would feel so much more comfortable if I could wear gloves.”

  Hilda bristled.

  “Gloves?”

  “Yes, gloves that cover me at least to the-”

  She looked at Lina. Lina tapped her elbow.

  “Elbow-length gloves,” Carina said. “If I can’t wear them, I’m afraid I won’t be comfortable wearing that gown.”

  Hilda rolled her eyes to the ceiling.

  “Very well. I’m sure I can find one pair of elbow-length gloves.”

  “One!” Lina said. “Oh no, that won’t do. She’s trying to stand out! If she wears gloves, we all must wear gloves.”

  “That’s only fair,” Eirwyn said. “I don’t want anyone getting an unfair advantage. Think of the scandal.”

  Hilda studied each girl’s face, clearly suspicious.

  “Evening gloves went out of fashion decades ago. It will be impossible to find twenty identical pairs on such short notice.”

  Carina sank into the couch in a huff.

  “Then it will be impossible for me to attend the ball tonight.”

  Hilda’s lips pursed together in a thin line. Lina almost laughed aloud. The lady’s maid clearly wanted to scold Carina for being so spoiled.

  But she didn’t dare, and Carina knew it. Carina crossed her arms and pouted. Hilda looked ready to explode.

  “I will see about the gloves,” she said through gritted teeth.

  23

  Alaric examined his reflection in the mirror. He had managed to rein Bastien in tonight. He looked almost like himself. His hair was pulled back away from his face. It had only the tiniest bit of oil in it, and the oil was unscented.

  Bastien had insisted on securing his hair with a velvet ribbon. Honestly. A ribbon? How was he supposed to convince the nations of Myora that he was a competent ruler when his hair was tied back with a velvet ribbon?

  He ran his fingers over the ribbon, debating if he should pull it out.

  “Your lady will love it,” Bastien said.

  Alaric sighed and dropped his hands.

  “The jeweler is here,” Bastien said.

  “No,” Alaric said. “No brooches. No gems.”

  The jeweler bowed.

  “Not quite what I had in mind. The item you ordered is ready. I thought you might need it for tonight.”

  He handed Alaric a small velvet bag. Alaric bounced the pouch in his hands. With all that had happened, he had forgotten about his order. The jeweler bowed again.

  “Would His Highness like to examine the item? To make sure it is satisfactory?”

  His Highness would not, but Alaric opened the bag and shook the ring into his palm. His throat tightened.

  “It looks perfect,” he said. “Thank you.”

  The jeweler beamed.

  “It was a challenge, but of course Your Highness would want something unique.”

  Alaric examined the ring.

  It wasn’t flashy. Not nearly flashy enough for a princess. Just a round stone set in a gold filigree band. Maybe he should have asked for a ring from the castle treasury. There were plenty down there to choose from.

  But he wanted the ring to mean something. To be special.

  He raised the ring to the light. The round, green stone shimmered but didn’t sparkle.

  “It is not too late for me to re-cut it,” the jeweler said. “The emerald will shine more if it is faceted instead of round.”

  “No, I don’t want to cut it.”

  “It is a most unusual stone. Where did Your Highness acquire it?”

  “Mount Evangelina. I’ve had it since I was a child.”

  The jeweler’s eyes widened.

  “Your Highness found an emerald on the mountain? I wasn’t aware there are mines there.”

  “I found it buried in moss. I thought it was a marble for many years.”

  The jeweler laughed.

  “Certainly not! This is an emerald of the finest quality. It would shine like the sun if you let me re-cut it.”

  “No, I want to keep it in its original form. Thank you for such excellent work.”

  The jeweler bowed and left.

  Alaric slid the ring onto the tip of his finger and stared at it. The ring certainly was unusual. A perfectly round emerald. Maybe he should let the jeweler re-cut it. It would still be the same gem.

  Well, it was too late for that now.

  “Are you ready for the ball?”

  “Gah! Stefan! Knock!”

  Alaric dropped the ring. Stefan snatched it off the floor.

  “You’re giving her the Evangelina stone?”

  “Give me the ring, Stefan.”

  “Your most prized possession?”

  “Stefan-”

  “Proof that Evangelina Shadow-Storm exists? You’re giving the seagull princess that gem?”

  “It isn’t proof that she exists. It’s just an emerald. Someone dropped it on the mountain, and I found it. That’s all.”

  Alaric snatched the ring away. Stefan shrugged.

  “That’s not what you said when you found it. You said you’d found proof that Evangelina Shadow-Storm was real. You said-”

  Alaric threw a pillow at him. It hit Stefan in the face. He put the ring back in the bag and tucked it into his pocket.

  “I had a wild imagination as a child. Don’t you forget anything?”

  “Nope. Why not give her a ring from the treasury?”

  “Because I want this to mean something, Stefan. I want to give her something special.”

  “Like definitive proof that Evangelina Shadow-Storm exists?”

  “Shut up.”

  “Fine. I came here to tell you not to come into the ballroom before you’re announced.”

  “Don’t tell me. Trumpets?”

  Stefan nodded.

  “All of them. See you soon.”

  As soon as the door closed behind Stefan, Alaric pulled the ring out and studied it again. The jeweler had done an excellent job. The gold filigree curled around the gem in elegant swirls. Alaric liked the ring a lot. Which probably meant Carina wouldn’t. Someone that bland would probably prefer a simple silver band.

  Lina would like it. The emerald would match her eyes.

  Alaric pushed the thought away and secured the ring in his jacket pocket. There was still time to get a ring from the treasury if he needed one. Maybe Carina would improve upon closer acquaintance.

  Maybe she would refuse to wed him after she saw the play.

  Alaric checked the mirror one last time before going to the ball. He frowned. The person in the mirror looked dejected. Heartbroken. Not like a prince about to secure his right to rule and his country’s future.

  He straightened and forced the emotion from his face. There. Impassive arrogance was the best he could do tonight. In many ways, it was just what the situation called for.

  He stood tall as he walked to the ballroom. Tonight wasn’t about him. He needed to act for Aeonia. Alaric patted his pocket several times to make sure the ring was still there. Its presence was strangely comforting. Like carrying a piece of the mountain with him.

  Alaric reached the ballroom and hesitated outside the door. He took a deep breath and nodded to the musicians. All six of them put their trumpets to their lips and blew three long blasts. He winced. Did they have to be so loud?

  The doors opened, and he walked through. He had everyone’s attention. Kings, queens, and princesses stared at him.

  He walked towards the princesses. It was easy enough to find them. They stood in a group dressed in identical
light purple gowns. They had wreaths of snowbells in their hair.

  And they wore gloves.

  Alaric blinked. Yes, every princess wore elbow length white gloves. What was Hilda thinking? Was this part of the test?

  He found Carina in the group. She stood in the middle. Lina stood beside her. He took Carina’s gloved hand and kissed it. The glove smelled musty, and he swallowed a cough.

  Carina curtsied. He caught the tiniest smirk on her face.

  “Will you honor me with a dance, Princess?” he asked.

  She nodded, her face blank again. He led her to the center of the dance floor, aware of everyone watching them.

  Carina was an average dance partner. She followed his lead but nothing more. No extra flourishes. No smiles. No conversation. She didn’t seem aware of the music, but she didn’t miss a beat.

  Alaric’s hands sweat. He was sure Carina could feel the moisture through her gloves. They were damp by the end of the first dance. Yes, surely she noticed, but she said nothing.

  Alaric did his best to match her disinterested expression. This was politics. Royal children doing their duties.

  Nothing more.

  The dance finished. Other couples joined them on the floor. Carina didn’t move away, so they continued dancing.

  Alaric wanted to talk, but what could he say? They were as good as engaged. They both knew it. But he hadn’t officially asked. She hadn’t said yes.

  He studied her face. She would say yes, wouldn’t she? Maybe he shouldn’t have been so ambitious with his choice. Santelle was powerful enough to refuse Aeonia if they wanted to, but that would have severe consequences.

  Maybe he should have settled for Kell.

  “Prince Alaric.”

  He looked at her. Carina stopped dancing. Couples swirled around them.

  “I won’t refuse you.”

  Alaric’s face brightened with relief. How had she known? Maybe she wasn’t as dull as she appeared.

  People were starting to stare. Alaric pulled her back into the dance.

  “Thank you.”

  She nodded.

  “I won’t risk war. You were clever to pick me out of the crowd.”

  The dance ended, and she pulled her gloved hand from his.

  “I believe it is tradition for the prince to dance with each princess,” she said. “If you will excuse me.”

  She disappeared into the crowd. Alaric caught a glimpse of her walking towards the Santelle delegation.

  Towards her father.

  Blast. He would have to speak to her father. He hoped the King of Santelle wouldn’t ask too many questions. He just wanted this to be over.

  A flash of red caught his eye. Fiora curtsied and offered her hand. He took it and led her to the dance floor before he realized what he was doing.

  “Reconsider,” Fiora said.

  Alaric blinked at her.

  “She doesn’t want you. Reconsider. Choose someone else. Choose me.”

  She watched him, waiting for a reaction. Alaric didn’t give one. He was beyond caring. Fiora glared at him. Alaric swept her towards the corner of the room.

  “She has already accepted. It is too late to change anything now.”

  “We would welcome you into the family,” Fiora said. “We would welcome you as one of our own. Please.”

  “Princess, this conversation is over. I have made my choice.”

  “You chose wrong.”

  Fiora slipped her hands out of Alaric’s. It was easy with the gloves on. Alaric watched her walk away with a mixture of amusement and disgust. He spotted Stefan across the room and walked to him.

  “Are you having a good time with your lady love?” Stefan asked.

  “Yes.”

  “I can tell. Something in the heaviness of your step. The droop in your eyes.”

  “Stefan, please.”

  “Why her, Alaric? There are nineteen girls more interesting than her.”

  “Twenty. And you know why.”

  Stefan shrugged.

  “Your other lady has been busy.”

  He gestured across the room. Alaric stared in horror as Lina approached the King of Gaveron. He caught a gleam over her gloves. The magic ring! She might attack him!

  “We have to stop her. She’ll ruin everything. Stefan, help me stop her.”

  “How?”

  “Dance with her. Show her the architecture. Give her food. Keep her busy.”

  “Do it yourself.”

  “Stefan-”

  “I do have official duties tonight, Alaric.”

  “Stefan, if this is about that blasted play-”

  “This ball is still part of the Princess Test. I’m co-host with Marta. Go stop your lady from making a spectacle of herself. I’ll help you when I can.”

  Alaric eyed Stefan suspiciously.

  “Stefan, I’ve made my choice.”

  “Of course you have.”

  Alaric sighed and hurried towards Lina. He doubled his pace when he saw her diamond ring flash red.

  24

  Lina’s ring flashed red. The King of Gaveron watched with raised eyebrows.

  “Honestly, Princess. You are too old to find amusement in such tricks.”

  Lina’s eyes reflected the light of her diamond. This was bad. The King of Gaveron was the leader of the Council of Kings. In her century, she had reported to the King of Gaveron as much as the King of Aeonia. He commanded the Council’s secret troops.

  If anyone had access to classified reports about shadow warriors and creatures of darkness, it would be the King of Gaveron.

  But he didn’t believe her. He didn’t believe the ring’s magic. That much was obvious.

  There was only one thing left to try. Her password. Lina took a deep breath and looked the King of Gaveron straight in the eyes.

  “I am a goat.”

  He blinked.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  Was that recognition or disgust in his eyes? He took a step backwards. Lina’s throat tightened, but she tried again.

  “Your Highness, I know it has been a long time, but I’m here to report for duty. I am Evangelina Shadow-Storm. I am a goat. Do you have donkey breath?”

  “What nonsense is this? Do you know who I am, girl?”

  The king took another step back. There was no mistaking the disdain in his eyes now.

  He thought she was crazy. He didn’t know who she was. He didn’t know the truth about the seal.

  The Council of Kings had forgotten her.

  Tears pooled in Lina’s eyes. She winced when someone put a hand on her injured shoulder.

  “Playing your tricks again?” Prince Alaric said.

  He pushed Lina aside and bowed to the King of Gaveron.

  “Please pardon her, Your Majesty. I think the stress of the Princess Tests has stretched her sense of humor.”

  The king bowed.

  “It is a stressful time for all of us. That is no reason to play jokes with magic rings.”

  “Of course not, Your Majesty. Please excuse us.”

  The king walked away. Lina’s shoulder throbbed. She pushed Alaric’s hand off her arm.

  “He doesn’t believe me.”

  She said it more to herself than to Alaric. Her heart was broken. She and Luca had been completely forgotten. Everyone here would call her insane if she tried to tell them the truth.

  Lina pushed away the tears with her good hand. She would only be able to protect them so much without help. She had sealed Nog away, but the ring still glowed red. Another threat lurked somewhere, and no one cared.

  “Dance with me,” Prince Alaric said.

  Lina had forgotten he was standing there. She shook her head.

  “I don’t feel like dancing.”

  “It is tradition for the prince to dance with every princess.”

  “I don’t care.”

  Tradition. How dare he lecture her about tradition? Lina didn’t want to dance. Her shoulder hurt. Her ankle ached.

&nbs
p; But she couldn’t afford to leave. A mysterious danger threatened Aeonia, and all the royal families of Myora were here. If something attacked them, it could lead to disaster. Chaos. War. She needed to stay here to guard them.

  Lina rested her right hand lightly in Alaric’s. Thank goodness Carina had convinced Hilda to make everyone wear gloves. She gripped the prince’s shoulder with her left hand. If he wanted to dance with her, he could support her weight.

  Alaric didn’t comment. They floated across the floor. He danced well. Under other circumstances, she would have enjoyed it. But her injuries still ached. And her heart hurt worse. The king’s rejection stung.

  “Tell me about your magic.”

  Lina flinched.

  “What?”

  “The magic you used when you sang. Tell me about it. Was it from your ring?”

  “I didn’t use magic when I sang. I didn’t use my ring.”

  She met Alaric’s gaze. He looked confused.

  “But you sang with such expression. I felt- Are you sure you didn’t use magic?”

  Lina smiled in spite of everything.

  “Is it so hard to believe I’m a decent singer? That I am capable of expressing feeling through song?”

  Alaric studied her face. He shook his head.

  “Forgive me. I did not mean to imply anything. But you have used magic in the past. I thought you had done it again.”

  “My magic is fairly specific. I couldn’t use it for music if I wanted to.”

  “Why are you here?” he said. “Why are you trying to stir up trouble?”

  “I’m trying to protect you.”

  He studied her face more closely. He should know every inch of it by now, Lina thought. She knew every inch of his. In fact, she was becoming fond of looking at it.

  He looked much nicer tonight without the oiled hair and jeweled chest. He was handsome without being obnoxious about it. And his dark eyes were kind.

  “I believe you,” Alaric said.

  “What?”

  “That is, I believe you’re sincere about wanting to help. But riling up the kings won’t do any good. Especially the King of Gaveron.”

  She snorted.

  “Riling them up. Is that how you see me? Some sort of troublemaker?”

  “Isn’t that what you are? Normal princesses don’t climb castle towers.”