Goldmayne: A Fairy Tale

by Kate Stradling

  True to his expectations, the outer streets of the city were deserted. He forced air into his lungs as he ran along parallel to the procession route, where crowds stood with nervous energy. The royal carriages had already passed, he realized. People were waiting for the return procession.

  The pealing bells grew more frenzied, and Duncan poured all of his strength into his legs. He rounded a corner and saw the church’s tall spire and a glimpse of a carriage as it entered the yard. People choked the road between, though. There was no way he could push through that crush of bodies. He ran on, circumventing the crowds in the hopes that the back of the church would not be so populated.

  His hopes were fulfilled. Only a few guards stood stationed at the rear of the building. The carriages and royalty were nowhere visible. Duncan vaulted over a wrought-iron fence. One of the guards saw him and shouted a warning. His fellow stopped him from doing anything further, though.

  “That’s Goldmayne!” he said, and he gestured to the golden hair atop Duncan’s head. Duncan ran onward, around the corner. The royal carriages stood waiting in the yard there. Above, the bells in the tower ended their peals, a signal that everyone was inside. Duncan bolted up the stairs, heedless of the crowds and the cry that went up among those who spotted him.

  He burst through the double doors into a small antechamber. Three faces looked up in shock at him: Princess Margaret, resplendent in her wedding gown, with Alberta and Bellinda on either side of her. They were waiting for the great doors to open to begin the procession up the church aisle.

  Bellinda took one look at him and shrieked. Alberta quickly slapped a hand across her mouth.

  “I have him,” said Duncan to Princess Margaret directly. “I have Prince Julian.”

  Margaret looked to Alberta and Bellinda, and then back to Duncan with suspicion. “There’s no one with you,” she said stiffly.

  “I couldn’t bring him all the way,” he replied. “I’ve left him back at the old abbey ruins. If you’ll just come—”

  “You’re too late,” said Margaret with ruthless severity. “We’re only waiting for Father to return from speaking with the priest. As soon as these doors open, the ceremony begins. It’s too late to stop it now.”

  “Mae!” cried Alberta sharply. “He says he has Julian! You can’t go through with a marriage to someone else!”

  “I have only his word,” Margaret retorted. “He’s brought no proof. For all I know, this is an elaborate hoax concocted by the pair of you to drag me away. I’ve already made up my mind, Alberta. Julian wouldn’t hold it against me, either!”

  “He will hold it against you if he’s waiting out at the abbey,” Alberta declared. “What’s more, you’ll hold it against yourself for the rest of your life! What’s an hour’s delay here? You have nothing to lose!”

  “And what if it’s a fabrication?”

  “Obviously, we’ll have Goldmayne beaten within an inch of his life and thrown in the dungeons!” cried Alberta.

  “I’m not lying,” Duncan added fervently. “He’s there, waiting for you.”

  Still, Margaret hesitated, indecision plain upon her face.

  The double doors clicked. The sound jarred her from her stupor. Impulsively she snatched up the long train of her dress and bolted forward to grasp Duncan’s outstretched hand. King Edwin’s face appeared briefly at the chapel’s entrance, but Alberta and Bellinda both threw themselves bodily against the doors to slam them shut again.

  “Go!” Alberta cried. “We’ll hold them off here as long as we can! Go!”

  Duncan didn’t need to be told twice. He had already pulled Princess Margaret back through the outer doors and halfway down the church steps. The crowd started to cheer but instead fell into a ghastly silence. He disregarded them as he helped Margaret scramble into one of the waiting carriages. The coachmen had all left their perches to stand along the outer wall of the church. They stared in wonder as Duncan leapt into the front position, took up the reins, and snapped the four horses into a run.

  Amid shouts from the guards and cheers from several footmen, the carriage barreled through the gates to the street beyond. The crowd that lined the processional skittered out of the way when Duncan shouted warning and steered straight for them. To his great relief, everyone got clear of the horses’ hooves and the coach wheels.

  The streets beyond were open. He urged the horses into a gallop, certain that King Edwin would follow close behind with every intention of chopping off his head for such a treasonous act as stealing the crown princess away from her own wedding. Every so often, he glanced behind him, but all he saw was Princess Margaret as she hung her head out the window to watch where they were going.

  The carriage left the city limits and rattled down the road to the abbey. Great billows of black smoke rose from near the crumbling ruins. Julian had set ablaze the pyre they had built, to dispose of the fleshly remains of his cursed form. As the carriage neared, Duncan caught sight of the flames that licked the sky; next to them stood a pale-haired young man.

  He was clean and clothed and held a torch in one hand. This he cast on the fire and turned to watch as the coach pulled to a halt several yards in front of him. Duncan slid from his perch and wrenched open the carriage door.

  Princess Margaret emerged, her train bundled over one arm. She had removed the veil from her head, and her dark hair tumbled over her shoulders. Her eyes honed in upon Prince Julian. After a brief hesitation, she squared her shoulders and marched directly to him.

  Julian did not—could not—move an inch. He watched, frozen, as she approached. Only when she stood before him did he break his silence.

  “Mae,” he said breathlessly.

  She raised one hand and promptly slapped him across the face. The sound cracked through the air. Julian stood motionless, a red handprint rising on his cheek. The next instant, though, she threw her arms around his neck in a crushing embrace.

  His murmurs carried on the wind to where Duncan stood. “Mae, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, Mae. I thought I would never see you again. I’ve been in hell, Mae. I’m so sorry I made you suffer.”

  “Stop babbling, Julian,” she said through her tears, and she ensured her command by kissing him.

  Duncan turned his back on the pair to give them the privacy they well deserved. He ambled to the back of the carriage and caught sight of a horse and rider charging up the road. He recognized Princess Alberta in an instant.

  She slowed as she neared, though her gaze remained fixed upon the couple beyond him. Duncan helped her dismount, and she finally shifted her eyes to him. “You really did find him,” she said in wonder.

  “It wasn’t a matter of finding,” he replied. “It was a matter of getting to him.”

  Alberta had started past him, but she paused in confusion. “What do you mean?”

  “I knew where he was. I just couldn’t bring him to your sister until now.”

  “I’d given up hope,” she told him bluntly. “When you came crashing through those doors, I thought for certain I was dreaming. Especially since you came to a wedding in that state,” she added, and she eyed him up and down.

  Duncan took offense to this. “I’ve just had the most horrific morning of my life!” he protested. “It was all I could do to get to the church in time. I’m sorry I couldn’t take a moment to tidy up first!”

  She shook her head ruefully and would have made some response, but the reunited couple caught her attention again. “Margaret Alice Elizabeth!” she shrieked, scandalized. “You do not kiss like that until after you’re married!”

  Duncan seized her arm before she could march over and break the pair apart. “You’re one to talk,” he said reprovingly.

  Alberta opened her mouth as a blush flooded over her. “That was completely different,” she argued. “You were leaving, and I thought I might never see you again! He’s come back, and he’s not likely to go again anytime soon!”

  “Give them a chance to make up for lost time,” Duncan to
ld her, and he led her in the opposite direction to prevent another such outburst. “It’s been five years. They thought they’d never see one another again.”

  She harrumphed but let him guide her nonetheless.

  “I trust your father is on his way?” Duncan asked.

  “Likely with every soldier in his army,” Alberta confirmed. “Don’t worry—he’ll forgive you when he sees Julian in the flesh. They’ll all forgive you, with the possible exception of Percy’s parents. Bella stayed behind to placate them, no doubt with Percy’s help. They can’t very well argue against Julian’s claim to Mae. Really, where on earth was he all this time?”

  “Right under your nose,” said Duncan vaguely. He met her confused stare and elaborated. “Dame Groach had him prisoner for two or three years before I met him, but we escaped together. I didn’t know he was Prince Julian until after you told me about his disappearance, though.”

  Realization manifested in the widening of her eyes. Suddenly she whipped her head around to search the area. She honed in on the pyre and the burning silhouette within its flames.

  “There really is no such thing as a talking horse,” Duncan said bluntly, and his voice shook with those words. He felt ready to collapse from the stress of the morning now that he finally had a quiet moment.

  “Why didn’t you just tell me it was Julian to begin with?” she demanded. “We could’ve saved ourselves so much trouble if we had known—!”

  “If I had claimed my horse was Prince Julian I would have been thrashed for impudence unless he spoke up to confirm the claim,” said Duncan flatly, “and I can tell you without a doubt that he would’ve remained silent. He never talked in front of anyone but me unless he absolutely had to, as you well know, and he was determined not to appear before any of you as a horse.”

  “But how did you finally lift his curse?”

  He focused his gaze in the distance, where he could see a cloud of dust rising from the direction of Midd. “I don’t think I can talk about that right now,” he said. Even though everything had turned out right in the end, he had no desire to relive the trauma of that morning.

  Alberta suddenly slipped her gloved hand into his and gave it a squeeze. The familiar gesture startled him. He looked to her only to discover a gentle smile on her face.

  “However you did it, thanks,” she said simply.

  He tightened his hand around hers and they stood in silence. In the distance, King Edwin and his soldiers came into sight. Some courtiers had tagged along for the chase, from the looks of the crowd. Curious townspeople, too, ran alongside the road on foot and packed in carts. All of Midd seemed to bear down upon him.

  “I’m in real trouble, aren’t I?” Duncan asked with growing discomfort.

  Alberta scoffed. “Let Julian do his own talking. C’mon—let’s put him and Mae between us and my father. That way we won’t have to answer any questions at all.”

  Gladly he let her lead him around the carriage and the burning pyre, back up the swell of hill toward the ruined abbey. She made certain there was a good enough distance between them and the reunited pair of lovers to avoid getting drawn into any frays. Duncan gladly sat with her next to him, and together they watched the scene unfold.

  The motley crowd stretched out for half a mile at least. At their very head, King Edwin reined in his horse and dismounted. Julian and Mae saw him stride forward purposefully. The newly restored prince dropped humbly to one knee, only to have the monarch tug him up again from the ground and into a tight embrace. Others crowded forward to welcome Julian back, particularly an older man and woman who threw their arms around him with tears of joy.

  “That’s Julian’s mother and father,” Alberta said quietly to Duncan. “They came from Delamore in honor of Mae’s wedding. I told you no one would hold you accountable once they saw him safe and whole.”

  Indeed, no one seemed even to notice the gold-headed knight and the middle princess beside him. Instead, word of Prince Julian’s return spread back along the straggling crowd, so that eager cheers erupted as the people pressed forward for a glimpse. Mae kept tight hold on Julian’s arm as he received welcomes from person after person. She was smiling brilliantly, as Duncan had never seen her smile before.

  Her sister beside him was another story entirely. Duncan heard a sniffle and turned in surprise. “Are you crying?” he asked stupidly.

  Alberta wiped her eyes with a lacy handkerchief. “Don’t mind me,” she said with a watery chuckle. “I’ve worked for years in hopes of this very moment—I hardly know what to do with myself now that it’s here. Do you want to get married?”

  “What?” he asked, boggled by that sudden twist in the conversation.

  “Mae’s wedding is already planned,” said Alberta. “Julian will take Percy’s place, but then Percy’s parents will have traveled out for no reason, so he and Bella will likely marry today as well to make up for it. If you want to be spared from joining in the group nuptials, you should probably run now while you still can.”

  “I thought we’d already decided this,” Duncan replied simply.

  “I’m just making sure you haven’t changed your mind,” she said.

  “Have you changed yours?”

  “No.”

  “Neither have I. You do know you’re marrying beneath you, though.”

  Her expression turned arch. “But that would be true regardless of whom I married. At least you already know it.”

  He could only shake his head at her impertinence. “I should warn you that I don’t believe in ‘happily ever after,’” he said.

  “It’s completely impractical,” Alberta agreed. “Why don’t we just try to live happily one day at a time?”

  He suppressed a laugh and pulled her close. Given their differences in background and their tumultuous relationship thus far, living happily at all was going to be a lot of hard work. From the smile on her face at this moment, though, he thought they were off to a fairly good start.