The Enchanted Rose

by Konstanz Silverbow

  “And what did Jossa do yesterday when you felt inclined to follow her?”

  “Yesterday, I watched the queen of Tivor murder two people because they knew too much.” I allow that to sink in before saying more.

  Chavez gasps. “She did what?”

  “She murdered two commoners. She went far out, almost to Elna’s border, to see two people—a couple. She said they knew too much, that she couldn’t trust them. That I would be leaving soon, and she couldn’t chance them talking to anyone. She killed them. I watched her do it, and then she sent her guards to clean up the bodies.”

  “Roselyn, I am so sorry. I can’t believe you had to see that.” Chavez wraps his arms around me, holding me close.

  It was unexpected, but comforting, so I hug him back.

  “And what did Madrid find?”

  “Oh, no.” I step back, covering my mouth with my hand.

  “What is it?”

  “Madrid,” I say, panicked, remembering that Jossa requested her.

  “What about her?”

  “I don’t know what she found. But I do know this is no coincidence. If Jossa knows Madrid searched through her things, we may already be too late.”

  Chavez puts his hands on my shoulders. “First, we will find Madrid and make sure she is all right.

  Afterwards, we will come up with a plan, and we will work through this. All right?”

  “Yes. Thank you.”

  “Your Highnesses,” Loran gasps. We break apart. It appears he finally got off his horse and bothered to come looking for us. I can’t help but laugh at his shocked expression.

  “I do believe it is time we returned to the castle, don’t you?” I look at the prince.

  “Indeed! Loran, fetch the horses,” Chavez commands.

  “But . . . yes, Your Highness.” His cheeks flush as he scurries back the way he came to fetch our steeds. We both burst into laughter.

  “Thank you, Chavez. Truly, I don’t know how I would get through this alone.” I know that once we reach the castle, all merriment and sentiment must end, so I must thank him now.

  “You’re welcome.”

  Once we reach the stables, I do not wait for Loran or Chavez, but run inside and search for Madrid. She is not in my quarters, nor the kitchen or the servants’ rooms. No one else has seen her either. The only other place I can think to look is in Jossa’s quarters.

  Terrified of what I will find, I run through the corridors in hopes that is where I will find Madrid, hopefully safe.

  As I approach the door, I hear Jossa’s voice and stop to listen.

  “Who are your parents?” she asks in a demanding tone.

  “I do not know,” a very scared Madrid replies.

  “I demand to know! If you cannot tell me, I will be forced to banish you from Tivor. Now tell me who your parents are!” Jossa screams. She sounds like a child throwing a tantrum. Never before have I heard her scream like that.

  Madrid sobs as she responds, “I do not know, Your Majesty. I do not know. I have lived in the castle for as long as I can remember.” I can’t take it anymore. I open the door, not caring that it will anger Jossa further.

  “What is going on?” I demand as I walk up beside Madrid, who is standing before the queen, her face in her hands, sobbing uncontrollably.

  “This woman is a traitor to the kingdom, and because of it, she will be banished from ever returning to Tivor. Guards!” Jossa calls toward the door.

  “Madrid is not a traitor. Unless you have proof otherwise, I will be taking her to my quarters now. And I would suggest, Mother, that the next time you fear my maid is a traitor, you speak to me first,” I say, so angry I can hardly get the words out without screaming.

  “How dare you speak to me that way? I am the queen, and I will be treated as such.” Jossa stands a little taller, now directing her wrath toward me.

  “How dare I? How could you think Madrid is a traitor? You knew I would vouch for her, so you sent me away with the prince. You may be queen, but I will not stand for you attacking my maid. If you have a problem with her, you may speak with me first.”

  I don’t wait for her to reply, but instead, I wrap my arm around Madrid’s shoulders and lead her out the door. She doesn’t say a word, and I don’t question her—just silently lead her to my room. Once there, I convince her to lie down.

  She curls into a ball beneath the covers and continues sobbing. I use the servants’ passages to get to the kitchen. “Your Highness, you know the queen does not like it when you are in here,” the cook scolds me.

  “She hurt Madrid,” I state, not wanting to argue with her. She stops what she is doing, dropping an onion on the chopping board before looking at me, stunned.

  “She did what?” Cook has always had a fond spot for Madrid, treating her like a daughter.

  “The queen took her to her quarters and interrogated her. Screamed at her. Threatened her with banishment.” I don’t wish to go into detail. I just need Cook to be sympathetic enough to bake me a treat of some sort to take to Madrid.

  “Where is the poor dear?” She looks close to tears.

  “She is sleeping in my room for the moment. I hoped you could make a special treat to cheer her up.”

  “Of course, Your Highness. Between you and Madrid, I don’t know how I could say no.” She laughs ruefully.

  “Thank you.”

  “Of course, Princess. Don’t you worry about it. I’ll have one of the ladies bring it up as soon as it’s ready.”

  “And you know what to make?”

  “Of course. Madrid only has one favorite dessert. And don’t worry, I’ll send enough for two.” “Thank you, Cook.” I leave the kitchen much happier than when I arrived.

  When I reach my room, Madrid is fast asleep, snoring ever so lightly. It gives me comfort, knowing she is safe. But I can’t help but worry about later. What does Jossa have against Madrid? Why did she demand to know who her parents are? Another thing that just doesn’t make sense.

  Jossa’s actions are becoming more and more confusing.

  I grasp Selma’s hand and attempt to push my magic into the storm controlling her. Nothing happens, and my heart falls. I try again, hoping there is just enough magic left for this to work. When again, there is nothing in return for my efforts, I drop her hand.

  “Will you try one more time?” Gwydion asks.

  “What’s the point? I just don’t have magic. This storm is doing what it was made for.”

  “This time, let’s both try. Perhaps you alone do not have enough power, but together we just might.”

  “All right.” I nod and grasp Selma’s hand again. Gwydion clasps my forearm, and I once again feel for any magic left inside me, trying to free it as I push it into the storm.

  A bright flash of light blinds me for a moment, but as it dies down, an image appears in the swirling darkness. Gwydion and I both watch the fuzzy picture as it plays before us, hung in the air between us.

  Queen Jossa rides with two soldiers through the forest. They keep to the path, but movement suggests that someone is following them in the forest. Based on how far from the castle they are, they ride for hours before arriving in a small village surrounded by farmland.

  The queen descends from her horse and approaches a cottage. She appears to speak to whoever answers the door. The first person disappears before returning with another person. They speak for a moment longer before Jossa draws her sword and ends their lives.

  My hands drop to my sides, and the image disappears. I can’t believe it. Queen Jossa? She’s the queen who attacked Selma? The person responsible for the storm? But why?

  “Rose,” I say aloud as the realization hits me.

  “Now is not the time, Your Highness,” Gwydion says in annoyance.

  “No, Gwydion.” I jump up, startling him. “Rose. She saw Jossa kill those people. She was there.

  She’s in danger. I know what Selma meant. I figured out the riddle.”

  “Are you positive?”r />
  “She said ‘The storm sees all, the storm knows all, and a terrible thing has occurred. A mother and father, the queen did kill. A witness, the princess, now doubts her heritage is real. Questions arise, and all involved will pay. But the culprit’s hidden in plain sight, so listen to what all say.’ It was Rose. She witnessed Jossa killing those people.”

  “Now let’s relieve Selma from her pain.” He nods toward the Oracle.

  I agree, but all I want to do is get to Tivor as fast as possible. Roselyn could be in grave danger if Jossa even suspects that she was a witness.

  “Selma, we know the answer. We know who did this. Now please, let us help you and end your pain. You do not deserve to suffer any longer than necessary.” “You know the queen who did this?” “Yes,” I blurt.

  “And you know how to stop her? How to reclaim the magic she stole?” I look to Gwydion because I do not know the answer to that question.

  He looks at me before glancing at Selma. “Yes.”

  “Then you may end the storm. But before you do, let me speak with the prince alone.” Gwydion nods and walks away.

  I take his place at her side and kneel down. “Thank you, Selma. I wish we could save you.” I don’t know the proper etiquette in such a situation.

  “Do not regret what you had no part in, Your Highness.” She pushes the hair from my forehead so it isn’t falling into my eyes. “Instead, do me one last favor.”

  “Of course.”

  “Repay Gwydion for his sacrifice. He deserves better than to live on this mountain, cold and alone. Build him a castle, give him a home, make him a hero, but last of all, be his friend.”

  “Of course. I owe him more than I could ever repay. I am beginning to understand how seven fairies came to be in his debt.”

  “Ah, his fairies. He must speak to you about them once he has claimed his new life. Be patient before leaving his side, Prince. I know you wish to hurry home to your princess, but I assure you, she is well for the moment. Please be patient a while longer.”

  “I will. Thank you.”

  “Now go. Stand away and allow Gwydion to save me from the pain.”

  “Good-bye, Selma.” Though I hardly know the Oracle, only met her three days ago, I can’t help but feel pain at the loss. Tears build up, but I hold them back as I walk away and inform the wizard she is ready.

  I watch from afar as Gwydion stands at her side and begins speaking in a language I do not recognize or understand. He speaks in rhyme—that much I can tell—but I do not know what any of it means.

  Slowly, the storm begins to fade, swirling into oblivion until nothing comes from Selma herself. It is still dark overhead, and the air is still cold. I have a feeling the world will need time to heal.

  Gwydion continues speaking until Selma is no longer writhing or moving at all. A breath escapes her, and I realize it is her last. The chant ends; Selma is gone. What appears to be her magic in the form of an orb slowly escapes her, like a ball of lightning, crackling and fizzing as it flies through the air and finds its way to Gwydion.

  It overcomes him, entrances him, absorbs into him. He gasps before falling to the ground. I rush to his side, but his breathing is even. He does not appear to be hurt—simply adjusting, perhaps.

  I look up, watching as the sound of thunder and bolts of lightning seem to roll into themselves, sucked into the clouds as if they were eating each other until all that remains of the storm is a dark-blue shadow of what was once there, almost as if it just needs to fade back to its usual brightness.

  I test my magic, seeing if it is back or like the sky above, needs time to fix itself. But the blanket I summon from my pack appears, so I take it and wrap it around myself before lying down and attempting to get some rest.

  The sky is still overcast when I awake. I sit up, my entire body stiff from lying on the cold, hard ground. Gwydion sits on what I presume to be the Oracle’s throne, something that wasn’t there before.

  I can only guess that the room put itself back together when Gwydion took over as Oracle. What used to appear as a room blasted with purple magic is now a furnished room with a throne, bed, table, and cabinet. All seem to be made of the mountain itself—that same icy substance.

  “I am glad you are awake. We have much to discuss.” Gwydion turns to me. He seems to have aged even more.

  “Selma said as much.” I nod solemnly.

  “Come, sit.” He gestures to another chair beside the table. I get up off the ground, stretching my back before taking a seat.

  “Seven fairies in my debt, seven kingdoms under threat. We know now why Jossa has killed three, but for the future, we need not give them heed.” I can’t help the sigh that escapes me.

  “I am sorry, but I could not help it. I can see why Selma loved her riddles.” He laughs. I exhale, grateful he doesn’t truly have to speak like that.

  “If you can joke at such a time, all is forgiven. I do not know how much longer I will survive when I am in such a dark mood,” I retort.

  “Very well. But the riddle stands. There are seven kingdoms. We now know why Queen Jossa did what she has done, and I realize that it was avoidable had someone before me been in a position do what

  I would like to do, with your permission, Your Highness.”

  “Tell me.” I wake with a start, my neck in pain from sleeping in the chair. I try to stretch it out, but it does little good. Madrid is still fast asleep in bed. I look up and realize it was the servant standing at the door who woke me.

  “Cook asked that I bring this to you.” She is holding a tray with two covered dishes on it. I smile, grateful for Cook.

  “Thank you.” I take the tray from her and set it on my desk. I lift one of the lids just to check and note that Cook did an excellent job with Madrid’s treat. I’m not complaining that she sent enough for me as well.

  “Roselyn?” Madrid sits up, still sleepy.

  “Feeling any better?” I sit on the edge of the bed and offer her a smile.

  “Yes, thank you. What is that delicious smell?” She sniffs.

  “Cook made us a special treat.” I hop off the bed and bring the tray over. I offer her a plate and remove the lid as she grabs it.

  “Almond flan? Oh, how I could kiss her right now. And you.” She gives me a knowing look.

  “Whatever do you mean?”

  “You are the only one who knows what happened, and Cook only makes something special like this when one of us needs it.” She laughs. It brings a feeling of peace over me, seeing her smile and laugh.

  “You are right—I did go to Cook. She would have had their heads if anyone else had interrogated you like that, but where it was the queen, all she could do was make you comfort food.” I sigh. “And I am sorry. I realized too late that Jossa could be trying to get rid of you while I was away. I should have found out what she wanted before I left, or I shouldn’t have left at all.” A pain comes over me as I think about what Jossa could have said to her before I arrived.

  “It isn’t your fault, milady. You could not have known, and the queen did not have to listen to you at all. So thank you for coming to rescue me.”

  “You are welcome. I will not stand by and watch anyone attack you like that.”

  “Thank you.” She leans over the plates and hugs me. I smile, and we continue eating our almond flan.

  “I told Chavez the truth,” I tell her before taking another bite.

  Madrid seems to choke on the food already in her mouth. “You did what?”

  “I told him what I witnessed when following Jossa.”

  She leans forward, eager to hear the whole story. So I start at the beginning, how I ditched Loran and ran into the forest near the river with Chavez in tow.

  “And Osric? Has he returned? Any word from him?” She looks at me with concern that I fully understand.

  “No word. The last I saw, the storm rages on. I just hope he returns before tomorrow.” I look out the window and see the dark purple-and-blue skies. As my eyes glance
at the table, I see the rose. Almost all the petals are blood red now.

  A knock on the door startles me. I go to answer it, but Madrid grabs my arm and pushes me behind her while she does it. She speaks with the visitor in hushed tones before closing the door and turning to me, a grim look on her face.

  “What is it?”

  “Prince Chavez’s parents are arriving in a few minutes. You are to be outside in the courtyard immediately.”

  As we stand outside, waiting for the carriages, I note that while the sky is overcast, the rain has finally stopped completely.

  It gives me great hope that Osric succeeded, but until he returns, I cannot rest easy. I feel so tempted to follow after him. They were going to the mountain. It would not be so hard to find my way there.

  But alas, I wait, because he asked me to. Because he promised me he would fix it as long as I stayed here and fixed this mess.

  A carriage and company of soldiers arrive through the gates and ride down the path leading to the courtyard where we stand. The carriage stops right in front of us, and a servant rushes around to open the door.

  Queen Amber emerges in all her crowned glory. Her light golden brown hair spills down her back, though some of it is pulled up in a fancy twist just below where her crown rests.

  She stands before me, and unsure what else to do, I curtsy. Chavez saves me from any awkwardness by embracing her.

  “Mother.” He kisses both her cheeks.

  “Chavez.” She returns the gesture.

  King Nicklaus steps down and joins the merriment, greeting his son with a strong handshake. Queen Jossa approaches Amber while my father greets Nicklaus, and they walk away, going into the castle while they speak as if they are long-lost friends.

  I realize that perhaps they are. I never thought to ask. It would explain why they are so determined to force us together.