by L. Danvers
“You scared me,” Daphne said breathlessly.
“I’m sorry. I came to say goodbye.”
Daphne relaxed and scooted over so her brother could sit beside her. He rested his head against the backboard of the four-poster bed and sighed.
“Are you nervous?” she asked. She wasn’t teasing. She wanted to know.
“No,” he said plainly.
“But that woman—”
“That woman was mad, Daphne. Pay her no attention.”
“I suppose you’re right.”
The prince and princess sat together in silence for some time. They had never been good at goodbyes. Daphne wanted to wish him well and tell her twin how much she loved him.
She didn’t, though. That wasn’t their way.
Still, she hoped he knew.
“You know,” he said, “the next time I see you, you’ll be announcing your engagement.”
Daphne shoved him, and he smiled. He knew she had no interest in getting married. He had spent much time lecturing her about why it must be done from a political perspective. He explained that the expectations of her were not arbitrary. They were there for good reason.
It was easy for him to say, though. The expectations of him aligned with his own desires. To rule.
She covered her mouth with the back of her hand and yawned.
Taking the cue, Phillip pushed himself off the bed and got to his feet. “I apologize for waking you so early. I’ll let you rest. I should be going anyway.” He slipped out of the chamber, and before Daphne knew it, she drifted back to sleep.
THE WARMTH OF THE SUMMER sun kissed her cheeks, and she rolled over and gave the bell on her nightstand a ring. As if she’d been standing outside the door waiting, Lillian hurried inside and bowed. “Good morning, my princess.”
She helped Daphne dress. Lillian went on and on about how skilled a fighter the prince was while she laced the princess into a gown. She said if anyone could retrieve the lost ruby, it was him.
Daphne appreciated her reassurance, but she wasn’t all that concerned about him. She knew her brother was brave and strong, and she had every bit of confidence he would return victorious.
“Let’s go to the village,” Daphne said while Lillian cinched her up tight.
“Shouldn’t you be being courted by your suitors? You have to choose a husband before the prince returns. If I know your brother, I don’t expect it will take him long.”
“Oh, come now, there’s plenty of time for that later. What’s more important, Lillian? Choosing a husband or looking after the poor?”
“When you say it like that, I’d have to say looking after the poor, my princess.”
“It’s settled then.”
They wasted no time setting off for the nearest village.
Daphne loved riding. There was something invigorating about being outside the castle walls. The stones could be stifling sometimes. But here, in the morning air, she could breathe.
The wind blew through her hair, and the sun shone upon the girls. Satchels filled with bread and cheese slapped against their horses’ backs with each gallop.
The ride was over too soon for Daphne’s liking. The village wasn’t all that far from the castle.
Once there, the princess and her maidservant tied their steeds to an oak tree.
The bags were full and heavy. Lillian struggled to carry them both. Although it was unprincesslike, Daphne offered to help and took one of the bags.
Together, the two of them made their way through the grass, the hems of their dresses drenched in dew.
The village had always been a poor sight. Today, though, things looked worse than they had since the last time they had visited.
The villagers murmured and whispered amongst themselves, pointing at the princess and her maidservant as they neared them.
Daphne’s heart ached upon seeing their sunken eyes and hollow cheeks. Many were covered in dirt and dried blood. They reached out to the princess, begging for just a bite of food.
Tears raced down a child’s red cheeks, and his mother bounced him on her hip as she tried to settle him. Daphne remembered seeing them before when the boy was just a babe. His cheeks had been nice and plump then. Daphne offered them an entire loaf, and the mother cried in gratitude.
Daphne was sure the latest tax increase had been Sir Hartley’s idea. He loved nothing more than to counsel the king on finances.
All she knew was that she never saw anyone starving when her mother was alive.
While she knew the taxes were high, she hadn’t realized how badly the people had been affected. It made her sick to think of last night’s feast and of how much food had been wasted. It pained her to see the people of Vires suffering. It wasn’t right.
Daphne and Lillian gave bread and cheese to each villager they came across.
When they had finally run out of food, the girls searched the cobblestone streets until they came upon a path. It was nestled between two crumbling homes, the roofs of which were covered in holes. The path strayed from the main road, but it was the fastest way to cut back across the village.
The blazing sun intensified the stench of old meat and rotting vegetables. The girls ducked out of the way of garments that had been hung out to dry, stepping around spare cart wheels and water-filled jugs.
Daphne was overcome with guilt when she happened to see inside an open window. Her stomach twisted at the thought of the silk sheets and decorative pillows that topped her comfortable bed. Families here slept on nothing but straw.
Her thoughts were cut short by a tug at her sleeve. She was jerked back.
She whipped her head around and found herself face to face with the same woman who had interrupted the banquet the night before.
Lillian gasped when recognition dawned on her.
“My princess,” the stranger said. “I must speak to you at once. It is a matter of grave importance.”
“How dare you grab the princess like that,” Lillian hissed.
“I’m sorry,” Daphne said with indifference. “We must be on our way.”
Daphne and Lillian turned from the woman and continued along the path, but she called out to them again. “The prince’s destiny is doomed.”
Daphne stopped and looked back at her. She wasn’t sure why, but something about the urgency in the woman’s voice convinced her to listen. “What did you say?”
“Do not be afraid, my princess,” the woman said. “I do not wish you any harm. I simply want to warn you of what is to come. The prince is in danger.”
The woman had said this the night before.
Phillip had warned Daphne to ignore her words, but there was something that urged her to hear the woman out. “What kind of danger? What makes you so sure?”
The woman pulled a silver necklace out from under her cloak, revealing a charm engraved with an almond-shaped eye surrounded by a ring of stars.
“Magic.” Lillian drew her fingers to her lips. “My princess, do not listen to this woman. Evil dwells within her soul. Look—she bears the curse of the eye.”
“Not a curse, my child,” the woman insisted, “the gift. I have the gift of prophecy. I have seen the writing in the stars. This quest will kill the prince.”
Daphne let out a nervous laugh. “No, you must be mistaken. My brother is the bravest fighter in all the kingdom. He will return to us victorious. I am sure of it.”
“Do not be so quick to dismiss my warning. Here.” Daphne stepped back, unsure of what to think as the woman reached for her pocket. The stranger held out her wrinkled fist and waited for Daphne to open her palm. In it, she placed a golden compass, etched with the same symbol as her necklace.
“What is this for?”
“This compass will point you in the right direction. It will lead you to what your heart desires most.”
“It will lead me to Phillip?”
The woman’s thin lips curved upward. She swept her arm in the air, and with a swirl of smoke, she was gone.
/> Chapter Two
Daphne and Lillian raced back to the princess’s bedchamber. Lillian sat in an old wooden chair, her chest rising and falling with rapid speed as she tried catching her breath.
The sun was half up the sky and shining into the room.
Daphne drew the window hangings together. When she turned back around, Lillian’s green eyes were wide, pleading for permission for her to speak of what the woman had told them.
They had kept quiet the whole ride back, agreeing it was best to wait to discuss the matter until they returned to the castle. But Daphne had gone over the woman’s words in her head a thousand times since then, and she had come up with a plan.
While Lillian wanted to sit around and talk, Daphne wanted to get to work.
She began sifting through the garments in her wardrobe. She groaned in displeasure at her lack of options.
“Let me help you,” Lillian said. “Our dresses did get rather dirty from that visit. You wouldn’t want your suitors to see you covered in grass stains. We’ll find a new gown for you to wear.”
“I’m not looking for a gown.” At that, Lillian scrunched her nose. Daphne rolled her eyes and said, “I’m looking for a disguise.”
“You cannot be serious. Don’t let that old hag get to you. She is evil, I tell you.”
Daphne folded her arms and huffed. “And what am I to do, Lillian? If she’s right, I can’t just sit here knowing my brother is in danger. I have to go after him.”
“And what will you do when you find him?”
“We are going to help him finish his quest and return him safely to the castle.”
The color drained from Lillian’s face.
She rested her hand on the door of the wardrobe to steady herself. “We? I want no part in this.”
“Fine.” Daphne shrugged. She wasn’t going to beg. She didn’t have to. She already knew what to say to change Lillian’s mind.
She collected the now-empty satchel and filled it with food from the table. “Then I suppose you would prefer to be here when Father discovers I’m missing?”
“That is fine by me.”
“Oh, come now, Lillian. You and I both know you’ll be much safer on an adventure with me than here at the castle when Father realizes I’m gone. You’ll be the first person he blames.”
She sighed. The princess was right. “Alright. I’ll come with you. I think we should wait until morning to leave, though. There is no chance of escaping the castle walls unnoticed at this time of day.”
As eager as Daphne was to catch up with her brother, she agreed it was prudent to wait. It wouldn’t do Phillip any good if she and Lillian were caught before even having a chance to leave the castle grounds.
So, though her mind was busy planning her escape, Daphne went about the rest of her day just as she would have any other.
She met with her suitors—Sir Rowan, Lord Favian and Sir Hartley.
Pretending to enjoy their company was exhausting. Sir Rowan’s stories were insufferably boring. Lord Favian’s accent was impossible to understand. And Sir Hartley’s constant desire to hold her hand was positively revolting.
She thought it funny as a girl when she learned that other children dreamed of being princes and princesses, kings and queens. It wasn’t the life she would have chosen for herself.
While she understood from a young age that she enjoyed a life of luxury, she also understood that her fate had been mapped out long before she was born. Her mother’s encouragement was the only respite she had from dictates and tradition.
Her mother believed it was important for a girl to know how to take care of herself. As far as anyone in the castle—even King Edgar—knew, Daphne spent her days learning to sew and read, while Phillip learned to fight. But when others slept, the queen had Phillip teach Daphne what he’d learned.
He was a good teacher. Daphne couldn’t say as much for her own efforts to teach him to sew.
Daphne and Lillian spoke again that evening. They planned to leave before dawn’s first light. It was important to rest before their journey.
In the meantime, Lillian promised to secure clothing for them—proper garments for their travels. Daphne hadn’t the faintest idea where she would get them from. She’d only seen Lillian in simple gray dresses. But she was too busy scheming to worry about trivial details like that. She trusted Lillian would handle it.
And, sure enough, Lillian fulfilled her promise. When she crept into the princess’s chamber the next morning, she brought with her clothes fit for adventure. She handed Daphne a pile of folded garments and set her own pile on the floor while she unlaced her dress.
She then slapped her palm to her forehead. “My apologies, my princess. I wasn’t thinking. Let me help you.”
“No need, Lillian. We’re in disguise, remember? We must be discreet. So, from here on out, just call me Daphne.”
“Yes, my... um... Daphne.”
They undressed and slipped their legs into the brown pants she’d secured for them. Neither had worn anything but dresses before. They thought it strange how the fabric clung to their thighs and hugged their hips.
After they had put on their shirts, vests and boots and wrapped themselves in cloaks, Lillian brushed her hands together and said, “Well, that’s that.”
“Not quite,” Daphne said, pacing in front of the open window.
She retrieved the compass given to her by the hag and opened it. The arrow swirled wildly until it came to a sudden stop, pointing beyond the rolling hills.
She closed it at once, choosing to wait until they had already departed to let Lillian know where they were headed.
She shoved the compass in her pocket. “We need swords.”
Lillian moaned in her typical fashion. She always complained of swords being too heavy. But Daphne knew for a fact she could wield one just fine. She’d practiced with her more than once, on nights Phillip was too busy to fight.
Admittedly, Lillian wasn’t much good, but they needed a way to protect themselves, and swords were the most fitting since they’d both used them before.
The girls hastened through the halls of the castle, taking care to keep quiet so as not to draw attention to themselves.
They clung to the shadows cast by the flames of the wall sconces. A sliver of moonlight peeked through a pointed-arch window at the end of the passage, helping to light their way.
Down the stairs they went, careful not to trip as they spiraled along the stone steps.
When they reached the armory, Daphne stood on her tiptoes to peer through the door’s barred window. Through it, she saw Sir Tybalt, one of her father’s knights, sharpening a silver blade.
She ducked back down. “I can’t go in there. He’ll recognize me at once, and then he’ll tell Father. We can’t risk it. You need to go in there yourself and fetch us the swords.”
“Won’t he recognize me, too?”
The princess shook her head. Her answer was harsh but true. Lillian was a maidservant. As far as most were concerned, she was no one.
“But what if he questions me?”
“I don’t know. Make something up.”
Daphne unlatched the door and gave Lillian a gentle nudge inside, then she closed it behind her and watched through the window.
Sir Tybalt lifted his head when Lillian entered and cocked it to the side. Lillian paused for a moment as he stared, but then she continued across the room, passing an assortment of armor, lances, daggers, bows and arrows. She opened a cabinet and retrieved three swords. Daphne had no idea why, being as there were only two of them. She wondered if Lillian was trying to throw him off or if she was nervous and not thinking straight.
Sir Tybalt scratched his unshaven beard as he watched her carry the weapons back across the room. “Be careful. Those swords are mighty heavy. Who are they for, anyway?”
Lillian’s neck tightened. “The, um, king requested them. For the princess’s suitors.”
“Ah, of course.” He sat back down and we
nt about his business.
Lillian rushed out of the room and sighed heavily upon closing the door behind her.
She handed Daphne one of the swords. The princess secured the leather scabbard at her waist, taking note of the two rubies encrusted in the golden grip. She recognized it at once. She had used this sword before in practice. Light of Vengeance was its name. She remembered how it sounded as it cut through the air, that sweet song of swordplay. This would do just fine.
They hurried to the royal stables, trying to keep their swords from banging against their sides as they walked. They were running out of starlight. The sun would soon rise from the ends of the world, and they needed to be far from the castle by then.
Just as Daphne had hoped, the stable was unattended. She smiled upon seeing Periwinkle and Daisy, her two favorite horses. She brushed her fingers across Periwinkle’s mane, which was as white as winter. The horse was happy to see her.
The girls prepared their saddles and were pleased with how smoothly their plan had gone thus far... until they heard the distinct crunching of hay.
“Hadrien,” Lillian whispered, relieved. Hadrien was Phillip’s manservant. He was pudgy and kind, and the prince had told Daphne more than once how loyal he believed him to be. “What are you doing here at this hour?”
“I could ask the same of you.” His eyes narrowed as he inched closer. “I’m just checking on the horses. Is that—”
Daphne tugged at the hem of her hood, but it was no use. He’d already seen her.
She pressed her finger to her lips. Shhh.
“You have my word, my princess,” he said with a bow of his head.
“I have a favor to ask, old friend,” Lillian said to him. He nodded. “Could you have the guards lower the bridge?”
Without asking any more questions, he agreed and left the girls to finish readying their horses.
Lillian had kept her calm when speaking to Hadrien, but after he left, she grew flustered. Hadrien had that effect on her. It took her three tries to hike her leg over Daisy’s back. Daphne had to keep from grinning as she stood there watching.
