The Enchanted Rose

by Konstanz Silverbow

  “It’s more than two already, Your Highness. However, you had the right to say no. You had the right to walk away and figure it out on your own. You chose to take my offer.”

  “How did I choose? You enchanted me! I did not accept anything. It was forced upon me,” I argue, remembering the feeling of relief once the magic had worn off.

  “Only because I could. If you weren’t willing to accept help, it wouldn’t have worked. And I didn’t ruin Ophelia’s chance at love. It wasn’t my fault.”

  “If you weren’t able to help her, why does she work for you?” I fist my hands, attempting to remain calm, noting that he does not deserve my wrath. He’s right—I didn’t have to take the rose. I hadn’t been sure it would work in the first place.

  “She owes me her life. That was only one of the many things I did for her. It may have failed, but already, she owed me a debt she could not pay. So payment became her services in finding me clients in need of a little help with love.” He looks far off, appearing to remember his past.

  “And the other fairies?” I question, wondering about each of their gifts.

  “Their stories are all similar, though they don’t all revolve around love. Some asked for help with revenge. Others wanted freedom, and by asking for it, were captured again. Sometimes the things we want most are the things we need the least, and we don’t realize that until it’s too late. Either way, they all must work off their debts.”

  “And how long should that take?”

  “A lifetime.”

  “Theirs or yours?”

  “Whichever lasts the longest.” He says it so blatantly. From the sounds of it, these fairies have already lost so much, and now, for that, they must work for him until the day they no longer live. It’s sad, truly.

  “I wish I had never taken that rose. Now I don’t even know if I’ll make it back in time to see the princess before her wedding, let alone stop it from happening.”

  “Selma and I spoke. I came to inform you of what she said. Now we must focus on the future you look at so bleakly. The outcome may be more of what you want, rather than what you expect.”

  “What do you mean?” So consumed by thoughts of Roselyn, I had forgotten the Oracle and her private talk with Gwydion.

  “She is going to die. Very soon. There is nothing we can do to stop it, but we can ease her pain.” He looks away again.

  “How?” I ask.

  “One of us must take her place. If we do it before she passes, it will shut off the storm, and the magic of the land will repair itself. She will be able to die painlessly, rather than writhing as the magic fights her.”

  “And how does one do that?” I raise an eyebrow and fold my arms across my chest, not liking the sound of this.

  “It is a straightforward process, really. She gives her magic to the one who is taking her place. Once the magic has been transferred, so will her responsibilities, her knowledge—everything.”

  “And what does it entail?”

  “The one to take her place will live upon the mountain, watching over the magic in this world. They will do what she has done for hundreds of years. They will foresee events to come and do what they can to protect the world.”

  “And what of the queen who did this to her? Did Selma give you any more information about

  her?”

  “She does not know the queen's name or the kingdom she rules over. But when they spoke, the queen mentioned another name, the name of her daughter, and the princess who isn’t royal. She knows not who they are. But I do.”

  “And? Who are they?”

  “Until I have confirmed every piece of information, I would rather not say, Your Highness.” Guessing from his tone, the answer cannot be good. Why not tell me unless he doesn’t believe it to be so?

  “And how long should it take to confirm this information?”

  “Hopefully by morning. But we do need to discuss our predicament. One of us must take the Oracle’s place as protector and keeper of the magic in all the land. It’s up to us to either take the position or appoint it to someone. I am a simple wizard who has lived a long time. And you are a prince, with authority in this world.”

  Panic overcomes me. He can’t think that I would be able to take the position. “You’re right. You are a wizard. So though you are not royalty, you already have magic. You understand it far more than I ever could. It would make so much more sense for you to do it.”

  “You have a duty as a prince to your kingdom, to your people, to protect them even if it is with your life. That is your duty.” He says it with force. “And yet, you wish to place it on me, when this is not my battle?”

  “If you have magic, it is your battle. Keep that in mind, wizard.” I stand, brush off my trousers, and walk to the other side of the cave. Selma appears to be sleeping again, though this time, she is lying on a blanket. I wonder if she had it the whole time or if Gwydion found one for her, brought it with him, or was able to use enough magic to conjure it. It doesn’t matter. I can’t think of him without balling my fists in frustration.

  His wording, the way he places all blame on those who come to him for help . . . I could have walked away without that rose, but at the moment, it felt like the only answer. I realize it is most likely a relatable tale for all the fairies working for him.

  Did each of them willingly go to him for help, or were they trapped and felt that his offer of help was the only way to escape? What could he have done for each of them to bring on a life of serving him? He came to me to call in a favor—he asked for my help in stopping this storm. Was it all a trap? Did he know that one of us would have to become the next Oracle, and he didn’t want to be it? Or is this a surprise to him, and he simply doesn’t want the job?

  So many situations, so many questions. And now, not only is there a chance of losing Rose, but I may never see her again even if the wedding is called off. I was so stupid to think I could fix this.

  Why did love have to be so difficult? Do they not say that love is the answer to everything? That love can survive anything?

  Apparently, magic is stronger.

  We stayed with the seamstress until my wedding dress was long on its way to being complete. The sun, though still hidden behind a wall of clouds, was set when we finally returned to the castle. Had I been out that late on my own, my mother would have scolded me. But because I was with Prince Chavez, she took it as a good sign. Perhaps she expected me to happily leave everything—and everyone—behind now that I had spent the afternoon with the prince.

  Little did she understand how much I still do not want to leave with him, to become his wife, and to walk away from the love and friendship I have with Osric.

  Upon returning to the castle, we are greeted by the guards at the door, and informed that supper awaits us. I can’t pretend to be more than friends with Chavez for another meal in front of Mother and the entire royal court, so I feign a headache and excuse myself.

  Madrid follows after me. Once I am locked inside my room, she corners me. “What is the matter,

  Your Highness?”

  “Madrid, we are alone. You do not have to address me so, and you know it.”

  “I am sorry, Roselyn. Please, tell me what the matter is.”

  “Everything.” I sink down to the floor and lean against the wall. “Osric is out there in that storm, trying to fix it. I have no idea if he’s all right, if he made it to their destination. Is he alive? What if he doesn’t figure this out? What if he can’t succeed? Am I fighting this arranged marriage for nothing because in the end, I won’t have Osric anyway?” I think about what I said and realize my mistake.

  So many fearful thoughts course through me. What if I never see him again? What if he’s just disappeared, and no one will ever know what happened to him?

  “I’m sorry, Madrid. I know I am also fighting for you and Chavez. I just—”

  “Rose.” Madrid interrupts my apology as she sits beside me. “Do you believe your love is true?” Her questio
n takes me by surprise.

  “Of course.” Though, a sliver of doubt plagues me, because the rose is turning red. Is that just because of the storm, or are we truly not supposed to be together? After all this time, how could that be, though?

  “So, you are in love with Osric, and you want to spend the rest of your forever with him?”

  “He is my everything. Without him, I am not whole. I want to spend the rest of forever with him, and then some.”

  “Then trust yourself. Trust your heart. And most importantly, trust him. If your love is true, nothing can stop it. Not a queen looking for more power, not a magical storm. He needs you to stop this wedding, and you need him to stop the storm. So trust that he will do his part, and don’t worry for or about him. Worry about finding a way to convince your mother that marrying Chavez isn’t right. Find a way to show her how much you love Osric.” Her voice catches on Chavez’s name.

  My heart breaks for her. In a way, she has it worse than anyone else, having to watch me parade around with Chavez, pretending to be in love for the sake of both our kingdoms.

  “I have tried for years to reason with her. Why would she listen to me? She is two days away from getting what she wants most. She won’t change her mind now.”

  “Then don’t change her mind.” Madrid says it so straight forwardly.

  “What do you mean? How else can I stop the wedding?”

  “Have Chavez do it for you.”

  I sit down on the bed, and she sits beside me.

  “How would that work? What could he possibly do that I can’t or haven’t already tried?”

  “Speak with his parents. Perhaps he can reason with them instead. Surely someone around here has to see that this is not a good idea, aside from the four of us caught in the middle.”

  “And what if that doesn’t work?”

  “Take matters into your own hands. You may not be able to convince your mother to change or stop this, and Chavez might not be able to change his parents’ minds, but you already know that you can’t live without Osric. So don’t. Find a way to make your happy ending come true because you can have all the power in the world, but nothing will fill the void of love lost.”

  “If Osric doesn’t succeed, there won’t be any magic left in this world, so power won’t matter,” I state glumly.

  “Love is a power all its own. And it’s the strongest magic there is,” she counters.

  “Do you truly believe Chavez can convince his parents that we aren’t meant to be together?” “If anyone can, it’s him. Or you.” She smiles.

  “All right, but first, I need to ask a favor of you.” I never got a chance to ask her for help earlier, so I had better do it now before I do not get another chance.

  “Anything, Rose. And you know it.”

  “I need to sneak into Jossa’s quarters. There is more to this marriage than her getting the kingdom to herself. I must know what she is hiding.”

  “What do you need from me?”

  “I need you to keep the prince busy. He cannot know what I am doing, but no doubt, Mother has planned another outing of some sort to force us together.”

  “You know I would love nothing more than to spend time with the prince. But what could I do that wouldn’t cause suspicion? We can’t be seen together without you.” Panic fills her voice. The fear in her eyes says much the same thing.

  “You’re right. Perhaps we can convince the men of the court to go on a hunt tomorrow and take him along. I just need you to find something he can do and or be distracted by long enough for me to have a moment alone in Jossa’s quarters.”

  “There is word going around that the queen is leaving tomorrow on a short journey. Perhaps she will not be here long enough to convince the prince that you two should spend every waking moment together.”

  “The queen is going somewhere tomorrow?” What could she possibly be doing outside the city at a time like this?

  “Yes. She didn’t say where, just that she was taking a few guards with her and she will not be back until nightfall.”

  “Go spread the word about the hunt immediately. Convince the servants that it’s true. Tell everyone the king will be going with them in order to get to know his future son-in-law.”

  “I thought I was to distract the prince.”

  “No. You’re going to sneak into the queen’s quarters and look for anything that explains her actions and reasonings.”

  “And what will you be doing?”

  “Following the queen.”

  As requested, Madrid spread the word about the hunt. It meant there were quite a few very confused and panicked people, but nonetheless, hunting they went. The queen wasn’t pleased with the news either, but she could hardly stop it from happening when most of the men were already on their horses, heading for the forest.

  I was ever thankful that the storm let up just enough to make a hunt feasible. If the rain was still pouring, no doubt—no matter how many rumors were spread—the outing would be canceled.

  Jossa is quick to mount her horse and begin her journey. I wait all of ten seconds before following her. With the castle void of the king and queen, Madrid has a fair chance of getting into their quarters to find anything useful to us.

  All the while, I will follow Jossa and see what could be so important to her that she is willing to leave the kingdom one day before the wedding she herself planned. And with only two guards? It also means it’s secret, something she doesn’t want anyone to know about, including the king. Which is all the more reason for me to follow after her. And should Chavez’s parents arrive today with no welcoming party, I can only imagine the tension between families, related or not.

  I ride through the forest, avoiding the path but staying close enough to watch the queen’s convoy. They go southwest toward a small village of mostly farmers. The ride seems endless, as I must remain silent and invisible, watching their every movement, on our slow journey.

  By noon, we have slowed the pace. Jossa seems to be searching for something in the woods, which worries me as it will be harder to follow her through there, so I keep more distance. The sky is dark, and I am grateful the sun isn’t beating down on me, but I still worry about Osric.

  Finally, Jossa seems satisfied and continues on. The small village is most likely nameless because the homes are so scattered, it hardly counts. Field after field proves that following Jossa through the forest is impossible, as it has ended.

  I stay farther behind and walk the horse slower to avoid detection. When the queen finally turns down a small lane leading to a cottage, I leave my horse behind and continue on foot.

  I make my way through the maze of corn and bushes and stand out of sight, but within earshot of the small house. Jossa has always had a demanding and controlling—not to mention, loud—voice, so her words are very clear to me.

  “We need to speak.” Her tone catches me off guard. I did not expect to hear her be menacing.

  “Yo—your Majesty, of course. Please, come in,” an older man replies, his voice shaking.

  “Where is Brenna?” the queen demands.

  “L—let me get her.” All is silent for a few moments before I hear shuffling.

  “Your Majesty, what a pleasant surprise.” The woman’s voice is deeper than I thought it would be, but beautiful.

  “Do not take me for a fool. I demand to know who you’ve told about our deal.” Jossa sounds beyond upset. She’s livid.

  I want to part the leaves and take a peek at the scene, but I do not dare for fear I would be heard, seen, caught, and then have to face the already very angry queen. So instead, I squat down and listen.

  “Your Majesty, you paid us for our silence. We assure you, we would not break that promise. We have spoken of this to no one.” If there is one thing I know, getting defensive with the queen is never a good idea. I fear for this couple’s lives.

  “The princess is about to be married and sent to live in Elna with her husband. I need to be sure that you cannot speak of
this to anyone.” My curiosity gets the best of me. I part the branches just enough to peek through. The first thing I notice is Brenna. Her cheekbones are high. She is thin and appears frail, though she can’t be much older than Jossa. Her blonde hair is pulled tight into a bun, but a few strands have loosened and fall around her face. “If the truth were found out, it would not only bring down her kingdom, but mine.” The way Jossa speaks has me genuinely concerned. What could these people possibly know that could bring down two kingdoms?

  “I am sorry for all your troubles, but as I said, I have to be sure you can speak of this to no one.” Jossa draws a sword from her cloak.

  Brenna shrieks. “Your Majesty, we assure you, we have told no one and never will tell anyone. Please, do not do this.” She holds her hands before her, as if they are a shield.

  “I believe you, because I have come to ensure it.” With that, she strikes the woman with the blade before twisting the sword around and piercing her heart. The man stumbles as he tries to catch the woman, but it is too late for him to do anything. Jossa quickly does the same to him.

  The last thing I hear is a moan of pain escaping his lips before two lifeless bodies are left in the doorway of the cottage. I can’t hold in the contents of my stomach any longer. I let go of the twigs and leaves I was holding on to and turn around to vomit.

  Could they have witnessed the queen doing something awful? What did they know that warranted their death because I was about to get married?

  And even worse, they died for nothing because I will not be marrying Chavez. I retch again until there is nothing left in me and all I can do is dry heave. Not only did I just witness a double murder, but the murderer is my own mother.