Angst Box Set 1

by David Pedersen

  “I’m not jealous,” he enunciated slowly, so he wouldn’t sound quite as drunk as the princess.

  They were still standing very close—to hear each other above the burgeoning storm, of course. Cold wind whipped her curly blond hair about his cheeks, but he could still make out Tori’s eyes as she peered at him.

  “Don’t pretend you aren’t drunk. I know everything, remember?” The words sloshed out of her mouth, and she lifted an eyebrow in mischief.

  “Shh,” he said, cognizant enough to look around them with concern. Angst attempted to whisper over the wind. “You don’t know everything. You have no clue what I’m thinking now.”

  Victoria leaned forward and pressed her cheek against his. Angst took in a deep breath of surprise and the strawberry scent of her hair, paused for a moment then pulled away, making her giggle. Tori’s touch, that connection, gave her great insight into a person’s wishes, plans, and future.

  “I would never do something like that!” Victoria said in shock. “Well, probably never.” She giggled.

  He realized his jaw was wide open when his tongue got cold. Snapping his mouth shut made her giggle again. His cheeks flushed, and he grasped desperately for what he’d been thinking. He concentrated through the haze of drink to remember her soft cheek, and how fond he was of her, and how worried that his time with her in his life would be so very brief.

  “You are so full of bark, Angst,” Victoria said with a melodic giggle. “You were thinking about how much you love me, and how much you’ll miss me when I become queen.” Her eyes became sincere. “You are my best friend, and nothing will ever change.”

  Victoria tucked herself into the nook of his arm, pulling herself as close as possible, as though it were suddenly important to hide from blustery winter. “Now stop worrying and bring me home.”

  Angst smiled to himself, enamored by her youth and innocence of the future she knew so much about. He gave her a sort of side hug. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  They arrived at the servants’ entrance late that night, or very early the next morning, depending on your perspective. A lone soldier “guarded” from a chair that leaned far back against the cold stone entryway. He was half-awake, resting his hands on his portly stomach, yet still alert enough to scan them up and down slowly through squinted eyes and tilted helm. A wry smirk lifted his left cheek.

  “Evening, Cedric,” Angst called out, behind a port-filled burp.

  “Angst,” the guard said with a nod. He eyed the leaning princess. “Fun evening tonight?”

  Victoria pulled Angst down to whisper in his ear, “I don’t like what he wants. It’s gross.” She gripped her stomach.

  Angst nodded at her and patted her hand where it clutched his shoulder. “Pardon us, Cedric. Early morning tomorrow.”

  “Of course.” Cedric kicked one foot out to block the entrance. He scratched at his scruffy pointed chin with two fingers then extended them outward in a beckoning motion. “With the rumors and all, it would be a shame if, well, you know...”

  Angst rolled his eyes and sighed. He dug into his pocket and pulled out a gold coin stamped with Queen Isabelle’s profile. He set it between Cedric’s hungry fingers, which smoothly hid the coin as though it were magicked to another place.

  “Enjoy the rest of your...evening,” Cedric said through his nose, giving Angst an approving nod and the princess a leering stare.

  Angst wanted to beat some sense into the ass, but it was probably best to help the struggling princess to her chambers. After walking several feet into the castle, however, Tori stopped, stood tall, and pulled together her last remnants of regal fortitude. She looked at Angst with determined, bloodshot eyes.

  “Wait here for one second,” she said, as clearly as she could.

  She wobbled over to Cedric and stared down at him long enough that he sat up nervously. The princess pulled out a threatening finger as the queen might, leaned over then vomited on the guard’s armor. Victoria wiped her chin and patted it clean on Cedric’s shoulder. She turned away and stumbled back to Angst, whose eyes were wide. They walked slowly down the long hallway, holding each other up as they listened to the guard’s disgusted remarks.

  “Feel better?” Angst asked, barely holding back a chuckle of surprise.

  She merely nodded and smiled as they crept up the stairs to the royal chambers. Guards stood along the hallway at attention, avoiding eye contact at all costs. Angst’s heart raced as the lights under Queen Isabelle and Captain Guard Tyrell’s chambers went dark. Had they been waiting up for the princess? How much noise were Angst and Victoria making? He could suddenly hear every breath coming from his mouth, and the click of each boot step. He did not belong here.

  At the entrance to the princess’s chambers Angst paused. What was he supposed to do now? He pushed the doors open to find her room spacious and, fortunately, empty of people. A jungle of flung-off clothes covered the floor except for a rough path from the door to her bed. Angst’s heart jumped, her room appeared ransacked, then he realized it had to be Tori’s form of housekeeping. Despite the mess, a fire in the fireplace and candles along the walls made her room warm and too welcoming.

  “Could you have someone bring us water, please?” Angst asked a guard in the hallway who seemed desperate for Angst not to exist. The wild-eyed guard’s head snapped up in what could have been a nod of confirmation, or a shooing gesture to rid an annoying fly.

  As Tori pulled a reluctant Angst into her room, he was certain each step forward brought him closer to doom. In a final burst of cognizant energy, she kicked the doors closed after they entered. They tripped and shuffled their way to her bed where she flopped unceremoniously across the breadth of the mattress to lie on her back. He stared at her, rocking back and forth on his heels drunkenly, as if holding a newborn in his arms. Tori’s arms and legs were spread akimbo, with total disregard for anything princesslike, or even ladylike. Her storm-dampened cloak bunched beneath her, and he could tell she was struggling to breathe inside her corset. He also noticed she was pretty.

  Angst waited, and sort of paced for several minutes that seemed like an hour, hoping a handmaiden would arrive to assist his drunken friend. It was warm, and he let his traveling cloak drop to the floor in a wet heap. Victoria lay still, unmoving as though dead. Angst frowned, walked to stand over her, and leaned closer to listen for breathing. The princess took unnaturally short breaths in her tight bodice. He decided to remove her boots.

  Nobody slept in their boots, he reasoned, and she wouldn’t question him pulling them off. The laces were confusing but, after many long moments and a few complaining groans from Tori, he set her wiggling toes free.

  Oddly, that hadn’t helped her breathing. He scanned her for something else he could safely do to help. Her cloak! Angst realized that the wet cloak was spread over her comforter. He struggled to gently roll the princess over and found she was suddenly a thousand pounds of dead weight. Victoria made the sincere attempt to assist his efforts by trying to hug him. He tugged and pulled the wet cloak from under her until it came free and Tori was rolled over, sprawled on her stomach. Angst threw the evil cloak to the floor in triumph.

  Having succeeded in his heroic duties, Angst gathered himself to leave when he was stopped by the princess’s whimper. He frowned. Removing the cloak had done nothing to help either. Her short, rapid breaths must be painful. He sighed as he stared at the ties of Victoria’s bodice. They were slightly out of focus and appeared incredibly complex. Couldn’t Chryslaenor have left him with some small bit of knowledge that imbued him with bodice lock-picking and drunk princesses?

  He leaned forward again and almost fell on Victoria. Up till now Angst had avoided getting on the bed at all costs, but it seemed prudent to place a knee on her mattress. He closed one eye to better his focus and began untying, which required patience and coordination Angst didn’t possess at that moment. This was truly a battle of wits that must have taken hours of concentration and surely required several handmaidens. N
o puzzle could have been more complicated.

  Just as he reached the last eyelet, Angst realized he was undressing the princess. He briefly panicked, looking around the room guiltily before noticing she had a blouse on underneath. Angst sighed with relief as he uncoupled the last eyelet, finally rescuing his friend from its confines.

  Victoria took in a deep sleeping breath and rolled to her back with a smile, revealing that her blouse was quite transparent, even in the dim candlelit room. Angst immediately lifted his hand, shielding his view of more than he should’ve seen. He was almost done—after he covered her with blankets he could sneak out, ride home, and start apologizing to Heather. Angst wondered where he could pick up flowers this time of night.

  Angst leaned over to fight with her comforter. She lay deathly still, a heaped mass of thoroughly unhelpful princess. Eventually, he gave in and climbed onto her huge bed, his knees sinking down into the soft mattress. After several moments of struggling, Angst wrestled Tori so she was straight in her bed with her head resting on a pillow. With a courageous breath, he straddled her awkwardly, grabbed the comforter from either side of her with the ingenious plan of tugging it out from under her. He hovered over Victoria, using every bit of strength and will not to fall, or peek too much at the see-through blouse. Just as Angst made his second tug at the blankets, Tori reached up and gave him a bear hug, pulling him close.

  Her young breasts rose and fell against his chest, and her husky breath labored in his ear. She mumbled as their cheeks met again, and her hands wandered freely along his back. Angst was embarrassed at being aroused while desperately kicking the blankets from under her. The scents of strawberry and alcohol were overwhelming, and he wanted nothing more than to hold her, lie next to her, and sleep.

  With his last ounce of willpower, Angst pulled away, kneeing and kicking the covers until they were clear of her feet. Tori reached down and gripped his hands. Angst freed one hand to reach wildly for blankets. With great relief, he found one and covered her. The ordeal was over, and he began to pull away.

  Tori shook her head from side to side and moaned loudly. Angst was at a loss. Was this the drinking? A premonition? He felt so tired, and wanted so much to just hold Tori, calm her worries, and sleep. He really couldn’t stay. Angst desperately scanned the room and found a nearby chair, which he clumsily hooked with his ankle and dragged closer.

  The princess continued to rock her head as he sat in the prim high-backed chair, utterly exhausted. When she clasped his hand and pulled it to her chest, he leaned forward awkwardly, waiting for the moment to pass. It didn’t.

  Tori’s eyes snapped opened, and she stared directly at Angst. “Don’t do it, Angst! Not another! Please don’t! I need you. You can’t leave me!”

  “I won’t, I promise. I won’t leave you,” he comforted.

  His response seemed to be enough. Victoria gazed at Angst from behind her dreams, and smiled with concern in her eyes before falling back into her slumber. Her right hand fell to her side, but her left held his in a death grip.

  “It’s okay, Tori. I’m here,” he said to console her. The alcohol, and the evening, and the warmth of the room enveloped him, and Angst’s breathing slowed. “It’s really okay. I won’t ever leave you.”

  He searched the empty room and realized he was warm, comfortable, and holding the hand of his best friend. Angst looked down at Tori and sighed as her face relaxed. She was finally resting, finally at peace. He was free to leave her, free to head back home to his angry, pregnant wife. He blinked slowly, his eyelids heavy with sleep. Tori stretched luxuriously, though she didn’t let go of his hand, and Angst couldn’t help thinking how young and pretty she was. He longed for youth, desperate to be younger than forty. Victoria was so...refreshing. He blinked ever so slowly. What had she meant, not another? Was it talk from drinking or talk from her ability to see the future? Angst’s eyelids drooped. He gripped her hand once, tightly, and thought, or maybe whispered, “I love you” and indulged in dreams of dragonslaying and maidensaving.

  5

  Someone gently shook Angst’s shoulder, and he adjusted his position. A sharp twinge of achy muscle in his back forced his crusty eyes open, reminding him once again why it was such a bad idea to fall asleep in a chair. He battled with bleariness, certain his eyelashes must have been tied together. A chair? He looked around the opulent pink and ivory room. A blindingly bright sliver of light carved a dusty path of air to land at the foot of an ornate bed. Princess Victoria’s bed. Which contained Princess Victoria, who was still holding his hand.

  Angst fought dry mouth with a loud smack of his lips and winced slightly at the port-induced headache, which tried to puncture his brain from the inside. Someone shook his shoulder again, and he peered over slowly to find one of Victoria’s blurry handmaidens.

  “Mr. Angst,” the woman sort of whispered in his ear. “Mr. Angst, you should not be in here.” She shook him harder, staring at the hand holding Victoria’s. “Sir, you should leave now.”

  What had he done? Angst blinked the stupor from his eyes then wiped at them with his free hand. The plump young handmaiden continued shaking his shoulder. When Angst stood and tried to pull away from her, Tori gripped his hand once then rolled over to return to a dead sleep. The handmaiden gasped at this display of affection, and Angst shuddered at the thought that it could have easily been Rose waking him. Her being one of Victoria’s new handmaidens was a bad idea for so many reasons.

  “Thank you,” he croaked to the young woman in a dry scratchy voice, and she quickly turned away to hide from his breath.

  He badly needed a glass—no, a pitcher—of water, and could really use a bathroom. He looked around and found neither. For some reason, he gently patted the handmaiden on the shoulder before shuffling to the door. Stooping to pick up his moist red cloak made him feel a bit woozy, and he braced himself for the hallway lights. He opened the door a sliver, and turned back to make sure the princess was still sleeping soundly. Her handmaiden shooed him out. Angst smiled fondly at his friend, backed out the door, and gently closed it.

  As he turned to leave, Angst faced a wall of angry faces so intimidating he considered going back into the princess’s chambers. Four soldiers, Captain Guard Tyrell, and Queen Isabelle formed a straight line on the other side of the wide corridor. Tyrell and Isabelle stood in the center, their arms folded, their stares piercing deep into his guilt. After holding his breath for what felt like an hour, he remembered to bow jerkily. As much as his churning stomach would allow, anyway.

  Angst began to prepare an apology when he noticed Tyrell’s wild eyes and briskly shaking head. Even the soldiers, all of whom he knew, seemed to offer Angst warning glances. His mouth closed slowly, as though connected with a rusty hinge, and he swallowed dryness while awaiting his fate.

  Queen Isabelle looked him up and down with disapproval. She hadn’t even taken the time to put on formal attire or paint her face—not that it would have hidden the seething anger in her eyes nor the red flush of her cheeks. The queen stood before him in a yellow nightdress, fluffy purple robe, and matching purple fuzzy slippers. The scars around Isabelle’s fake right eye made her appear even fiercer. She grunted in disgust then grabbed his arm tight behind the elbow, led him down the hallway, up a flight of stairs, and into the busiest passageway of the castle.

  “The guards should have already killed you, Mr. Angst, and I just may do it myself.” Her high-pitched voice screeched and echoed throughout the corridor. Everyone within earshot stopped what they were doing to listen. “Only because you are a hero of Unsel, only because I saw you not sleeping with my daughter, am I allowing you your life, but that gives you no right to take liberties with my trust! If I ever see you in the princess’s chambers again, your execution will be amongst the most frightening events ever recorded in history! Am I clear?”

  Angst’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment and frustration. Once again, he opened his mouth to speak but then noticed something odd. The queen’s piercing ga
ze kept flicking to the ground, beckoning him to stare at the floor with humility. He wanted to argue that he had kept Victoria safe from unsavory predators but for once, wisely, he ignored his instincts and stared at the ground.

  “Yes, Your Majesty.” His voice scratched at the air hoarsely.

  He continued to stare at the floor as the queen began admonishing Tyrell and the soldiers.

  She flipped a long lock of disheveled white hair over her shoulder before shaking her thick finger back and forth. “How this...this...magic-wielder could possibly be allowed in the royal hallway, much less the chambers of the royal princess, is beyond my understanding, Captain Guard. Don’t think for a second that I hold Mr. Angst,” she said with much spittle, “solely responsible! Are my private hallways guarded by the masons’ guild now?”

  “No, Your Majesty,” Tyrell said, his head also bowed.

  “Discipline will once more reign with your guards, starting with a daily sunrise march!” she squawked loudly.

  Tyrell’s head whipped up. “In this weather, Your Majesty?”

  “Did I stutter?” she screamed.

  “No, Your Majesty!” Tyrell replied, eyeing Angst with contempt.

  “You and your men are dismissed!”

  Tyrell leaned forward to Angst and huffed an angry, “thanks,” before turning on his heel to march away. The soldiers spun about stiffly and followed.

  “You, I’m not done with yet!” Queen Isabelle gripped Angst behind the elbow once more, pulled him into a nearby antechamber, and slammed the door shut.

  The room was quiet, for which Angst’s head was eternally grateful. He looked up from the floor to see the queen completely calm, no longer the threatening beast who had dragged him into the room by his elbow. Angst rubbed his eyes and smacked his mouth open.

  “Please have a seat, Angst.” She beckoned to a table with every ounce of courtesy she would offer a foreign statesman. She poured two glasses of water and set one at the opposite end of the table.