by Jenni James
“Carlsen, will you please guarantee that the King of Alemade and the Prince of Lybrooke and their party’s horses are attended to by the stable boys? See that the animals are wiped down thoroughly and given the best oats of the house.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
She was happy to witness the young man bow low in his crisp royal uniform and scurry away until she looked up at the astonished faces of the men. “Well, now, what has got you all so stunned? You look as though you have seen a ghost.”
“Do we?” Darién muttered, while glancing at the other men. In many ways it would have made their whole experience much easier to bear if they actually had seen a ghost, but as far as he could perceive no one had come at the queen’s bidding. Which meant their horses were still standing on the deserted walkway of the castle courtyard without anyone attending them or feeding them. And by the state of the rusted, dust-covered bell she had rang there probably were no oats of any worth to feed them with either.
Michael stepped forward. “Your staff is efficient.”
“Thank you. They are all very dear to me.” The queen smiled a self-satisfied smile and asked, “Shall I take you to the guest wing now?”
The king grinned. “Certainly. We are ready to follow this time.”
“Perfect.” The queen turned in a swirl of diaphanous skirts and headed back through the weathered and splintered door and up the grimy staircase.
Humphrey leaned forward and hissed under his breath as they began to follow her, “After she shows us our rooms, I’ll sneak back down and take care of the horses—at least try to find some sort of grass for them to nibble on.”
George snickered as he began to climb the steps. “You know, this could be really enjoyable living in two separate realities for a couple of nights.”
Michael shook his head. “I believe Darién may be right after all. It will take every fraction of wits we have between us to keep up this façade. Never before have I seen a more filthier or disturbingly vacant place in my life. We must be insane to attempt to disenchant a royal queen from the only world she has ever known into the realism she truly lives in.”
“Finally, someone who makes sense,” Darién exclaimed.
“Yes, well, I am beginning to see what it is that has had you so concerned—however,” he rushed on to say, “my admission in no way excludes us from this adventure. I was just mentioning the fact we were insane, not that we shouldn’t do it, just that we were insane to do so. And that you were right.”
“The prince was right about what?”
The queen was standing at the top of the stairs and had obviously overheard the last little bit.
In any other situation Darién would have been the first to boast he was always right about everything, but only being able to see a faint outline of the queen was disconcerting. He backed down a step while the other three continued on up, which opened him to even more scrutiny from the fair girl.
She grinned and came down a pace, holding her hand out. “Come, Your Highness, and I will walk with you personally.”
A shot of cold fear ran through his blood as he stared at the translucent hand. He had never met a queen so forward before and the last thing he wished to do was hold her hand—the very last thing. But with another shake of her arm and a nod of her head, he finally stepped up and clasped it.
He gasped. Her hand was so soft and warm. Real. She was indeed not a phantom, but an enchanted being, exiled into this spiritual state.
Her hand squeezed his gently sending sparks up his arm to settle over his heart.
Aleyna’s smile grew as she said, “Come with me, I believe you will love the guest wing. Some of the most famous noblemen and women have stayed with our family over the past several years. It is an honor to include you in those ranks.” She pulled him to the front of the group and searched his eyes for a moment, her hand still perfectly clasped in his, before stating, “Those telling green eyes of yours belie your actions.”
“How so?” Her own eyes were becoming bluer by the moment. In fact, the longer he stood connected to her the more lifelike she became.
She giggled and for a second he had forgotten what they were speaking of until she answered, “Why, your actions would suggest a man who is shy or skittish. And yet you, you are anything but, are you not? Looking at you closely, I see a man with fire in his soul—a man who could slay dragons and even demons if he had to. Why, you are the stuff legends are made of!”
She was so very beautiful. His heart began to pound as her face came more into focus. Each delicate eyelash altering before him and framing the loveliest blue eyes he had ever seen. They were eyes that could see through to his core. Eyes a man could get lost in. “No, I am not shy. I am not shy at all,” his voice cracked slightly. Wanting to be closer to her he reached over and gently held her other hand and then startled a bit to watch her completely transform into a stunning young woman in front of him. Her pink cheeks, her lips, her hair, her burgundy dress—it was all there before him in perfect harmony with who she was—the true Queen Aleyna.
In that moment, he knew he would do anything to save her. He would do anything to make her whole again, to see that face every morning when he awoke, and to be the one to comfort and guide her through the new world she would have to face.
He, like every bamboozled prince he had ever read about in the faerie stories of his youth—had done it. He had fallen quite hopelessly and foolishly and way too quickly in love.
Love at first—well, full—sight.
Just like Michael had with his queen.
Like his father had with his mother.
It was true. All they had said. All those times people had told him it was possible to fall in love immediately, he’d never believed them. Never thought it was probable. And now, now… he couldn’t imagine anything more perfect in the world.
His hand slowly moved up her arm to capture that beautiful cheek within its palm. He wanted to trace her long hair with his fingers, taste those rose-red lips, and get lost in her—
Queen Aleyna gasped as his fingers skimmed her ear, pulling out of his arms. And she was gone. Just like that. Only a mere outline of the girl he had touched just a moment before.
Her eyes refused to meet his.
He would have stepped forward to grasp her hand again and keep that connection, but Michael coughed. Loudly.
Darién was jolted back into remembrance of where he was and what a scene he had created for them both. “I—uh, forgive me. Forgive me, Your Majesty.” He bowed quickly to the queen. “I do not know what came over me, but I promise to treat you as a gentleman should always.” His face reddened and he refused to glance in the direction of the lords, Michael’s astounded features were enough as it was.
Aleyna flustered and flushed, daintily cleared her own throat and summoned Lord Sanders from down the main hall. When he approached, she took a deep breath and smiled. “These are our visitors for the evening. Please see that they are given the best rooms in the guest wing.”
“Yes, Your Majesty. I would be happy to.”
“Thank you. I will retire for an hour or so. Please let Cook know there are others present.”
“Yes, your Majesty.”
She turned toward the men, desperately avoiding the prince’s stare. “We dine at eight o’clock if you wish to join me in the little dining room, I will be supping there.” She waited for their thanks and bows before saying, “Excuse me, I must go now. Lord Sanders will attend you.” Her own heart was too flustered and she needed some time to catch her breath and ponder what had happened with the prince.
With a flurry of skirts, she was gone, down another hallway and out of sight.
“Well, fabulous,” exclaimed George with a sigh. “Does anyone have any idea where the guest wing might be in this monstrous ruin? Because there is obviously no Lord Sanders in sight.”
“Or the little dining room?” muttered Humphrey. “So much for dinner, since it will all be imaginary anyway.”
Darién threw his head back and laughed, looking right up at the vaulted stone ceiling, before stating rather smugly, “Come on! Pluck up. You are the ones who wanted an adventure.” He clapped George and Humphrey on their shoulders. “Well, here you go! Now let us have one.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
THE DOME FLASHED AND an explosion of sparkly fragmented light fell all around the sleeping girl and the unicorn. Ezralon huffed and gently snorted when she began to fade before him. It was greatly alarming to see the sleeping queen begin to grow fainter before his eyes, her features becoming ghostlike outlines and pale colors. For a few moments there he believed he had lost her forever and the enchantment had been broken. But she soon reverted back to her whole sleeping self again.
He watched her for a few more minutes, guaranteeing her slumber was sound and she wasn’t disturbed by what had happened, before gently easing the motionless girl off his side and standing and testing the dome with his horn again. What had happened? Had the prince finally come? His horn shone brightly, blinding the dome as he connected with it. The pulses had been happening for a couple of hours, but he hadn’t been too concerned until now. He knew the prince would be arriving that day.
He paused and allowed the familiar warmth to settle over his body before he began to read what was occurring several kingdoms away.
Closing his eyes, he could tell Aleyna was disturbed and frightened a bit—but more curious than anything. The prince had finally made it to the castle and they must have connected in some way. Perhaps he embraced her? Ezralon was not sure; he knew it had to have been something strong enough to clearly shake her from the trance she was in.
He paused a few minutes more trying to read any other clue the dome of her enchantment would give him. One thing was certain, it would not be long now before she would have to face all and the true battle would begin. He knew Villeria would not let her go without a fight. She demanded payment, and only the most brave and valiant—the most steadfast of hearts—would be able to help Aleyna defeat the evil awaiting her. Ezralon prayed this young prince would be courageous enough for the purpose.
***
Darién laughed again and the others groaned when they finally stumbled into what must have been the guest wing. The only sign it was reserved for company and not the family quarters was the filthy sheet-covered furniture and beds in the many bedrooms.
The cobwebs in the largest room were just as spine-chilling as the grand hall had been. Indeed the whole place was littered in leaves, glass and debris—and dirt. Piles and piles of dirt.
George wheezed and sputtered as he involuntarily inhaled a large section of grime he had dislodged from the sheet over the bed. Grey billows erupted all over the room as he pulled the large white covering from its protective position, revealing a striking red and gold embroidered comforter—something quite remarkably fit for a king.
“Yeesh!” Humphrey sneezed loudly. “Did you have to force us all to eat it as well?”
“Well, you did say you were hungry,” crowed George, moments before he fell into his own sneezing attack.
Michael took the sheet and wadded it up and banged it against the side of the canopy causing the whole room to burst into angry grey clouds again.
“Good grief, man! Open a window before you try to murder us all!” came the muffled shouts of the prince. Darién had at least thought to cover his face with his shirt, but even that did not prevent a horrendous amount of dust to lodge itself in his eyes and throat.
“Well, how else are we supposed to live in this room?” Michael answered. “We must clean it up a bit or we’ll never be fit enough to see the queen, let alone eat with her.”
“Believe me, th-there will be no eating ha-happening tonight,” Humphrey complained around coughs.
Darién made his way over to the windows. He drew back the fragments of curtains that were blocking the broken glass of the first window and unhinged the rusted lock of the second, causing it to wildly swing open and its glass to rattle and crack against the stone wall outside.
George waved at the clouds around him. “Fabulous, you have managed to damage the only remaining window in this castle.”
“I am positive it is not the only remaining window. There are probably many more.”
George and Humphrey halted their efforts to wave away filth to stare at the prince.
He sighed. “Perhaps not many more.”
They raised their eyebrows.
Darién threw his hands in the air. “Fine. I have damaged the last window in this whole monstrosity of a destroyed castle. Now why don’t you take me before the court and have me drawn and quartered?”
“No. Just a hanging should suffice. No reason to get all bloody too.” George laughed.
“Yes, we will be nice this once,” Humphrey replied.
“Oh, thank you. It is good to know you are all so generous.”
Michael came over with the sheet and shook it furiously out the open window. “Honestly, you boys are more than likely irritable from the lack of food in your stomachs.”
“Or excess dirt in our eyes!” Darién hacked as a new plume of dust made its way back in the room.
“My apologies, but I had to shake this out as soon as possible, it was getting too soiled to be of any use and the whole room needs a good pounding or we’ll never be able to sleep tonight.”
Darién walked over and gently removed the covering from off the dresser, folding it so the dirt stayed inside the cloth. He took the bundle to the other window and began to shake it out as well. Turning his head to the side he saw the two lords standing about, their faces covered as he had done. “Humphrey, can you go see about rounding up a few more mattresses to be dragged into here? That way we will only need to clean out one room and one fireplace? And, George, go ahead and slip back down and see that the horses are taken care of. We will get this room ready while you’re gone.”
George smiled. “I’ll be sure to bring in our saddlebags to guarantee we have something to eat as well.”
“Well, there you have it,” Humphrey grumbled as he watched George happily go. “He gets to escape to fresh air.”
The king removed two more coverings revealing a chair and mirror. “You could stay and do the dirty work as well. I would be happy to fetch beds for us.”
“Come on, Humphrey,” Darién clapped him on the shoulder. “You can walk out with me. The only way this place will truly get clean is with a broom and I bet there is old kitchens in this place somewhere where I can find one. Meanwhile, I’ll stop you off at the next guest room to gather whatever treasure you can find.”
“Try and unearth a dusting pan of some sort as well, and a bucket of water.” Michael walked over to the window and began shaking out the new covers.
Darién turned as he was heading out the door and laughed. “You do realize you are asking for nothing short of a miracle, correct? As if I will find running water in this place.”
Michael halted and turned, his eyes blinked. “Well, I am a king. We always ask for the impossible, do we not?”
***
Aleyna made it to her room and plopped down on the navy and gold overstuffed chair. Her eyes blindly resting upon the striking marble mantelpiece her father had imported from the kingdom across the sea. Clasping her hands together, she thought of another pair of princely hands that had been strong and gentle. She absently traced her fingers over her palm as she imagined the contact they had experienced again.
How long had it been since a man touched her in such a way? She could not remember the last time. In fact, she had no idea such niceties were missed until she felt his hand slowly climb up her arm and neck to rest against her cheek. Her eyes fluttered closed as her own hand followed the same path until she felt the contact of palm against cheek.
Aleyna let out a small sigh.
He had felt so wonderful in that moment. And he had stared at her like no man had eve
r looked at her before. So intense. So startled. So raw…and magical.
She allowed her fingers to skim past her ear again as his had. A tiny shiver ran from her ear to the small of her back. Oh goodness, what was happening to her?
For an instant the world seemed off kilter.
Her whole arm felt tingly and alive. Where he had touched every nerve ending stood at attention, as if being woken up from a long, deep sleep.
In just a few brief seconds he made her feel so alive. So very real and so incredibly cherished—more than she could ever remember feeling before. She blushed as her thoughts continued to swirl. It would seem the only thing she could truly settle upon was the thought of when she would be able to hold his hand again.
All at once she wanted everything to be perfect tonight. Darién was incredibly handsome and probably used to the finest money could offer. She quickly stood up and rushed out the door. Cook most definitely needed to be appraised properly on what to prepare for tonight’s meal. She needed a feast fit for a prince! And a king, of course…
CHAPTER EIGHT
BY THE TIME DARIÉN had found his way down to the kitchens, he’d been completely spooked on three separate occasions. Indeed this castle was beyond terrifying if one did not know where one was going. Too many wind-whistling sounds from the shattered windowpanes and the fluttering fabric on the walls and within the rooms were extremely eerie. Some of the areas had been locked up, others still had the bones of those who were murdered so long ago sprawled upon the ground—their clothing tattered and frayed.
He was amazed no one had come to claim the castle treasures before now, though. Perhaps the young queen scared them off. Or perhaps the enchantment covered all those who wished her or her things harm as well. Whatever it was, he needed to figure out the legend for himself and solve the questions that plagued him. What happened when she awoke? Did the evil strike again? Was this ruined mess conferred upon her or did it become as beautiful she imagined it? How did a prince go about waking her? And what had happened earlier when he touched her and she became almost real? Was she awakening then?
