Prince of my Panties (Royal Package)

by Lili Valente

  It’s her.

  The woman who took me.

  26

  Elizabeth

  It’s her. Kaula. Her face is thinner and more heavily lined, and her salt-and-pepper hair is now completely gray, but it’s her, beyond a shadow of a doubt. Her big, dark eyes and the crooked squiggle of her mouth are exactly the same.

  Which means it happened.

  It really happened.

  I was taken.

  My heart punches at my ribs.

  Jeffrey says something to the man, who responds in turn, but I can’t hear anything over the blood rushing in my head. I wait, breath held and the fullness in my chest dragging at my lungs as I will her to glance my way.

  I need her to see me, to know me, to realize the wreckage she left behind after she dropped me back on that playground a different girl than I was before.

  But her focus remains fixed on the rapidly growing pile of wood in the pit and the dreamy smile lifting one corner of her mouth firmly in place.

  Jeffrey turns to me, worry in his eyes. His lips move, but I can’t make sense of the words. I shake my head and lift my arm, pointing at the woman in the chair. Jeffrey winces subtly and turns back to the man with a sigh.

  This time, I’m able to make out part of the sentence, “Yes…so sorry… Is…anyone else?”

  Anyone else?

  We don’t need to look for someone else, she’s right there!

  Willing a deeper breath into my lungs, I dig my nails into my palms until the pain helps me focus enough to speak. “I’m s-sorry. I d-didn’t hear what you said before.” I meet the happy man’s now much sadder gaze. “But that’s d-definitely the woman I m-met eighteen years ago.” I nod toward Kaula, but I don’t look her way, afraid I’ll spiral out again if I do. “Would it be p-p-possible for me to speak with her? I have so m-many questions.”

  “Like I was telling your friend, we can try,” the man says, propping his hands on his hips as he shakes his head. “But my grandmother hasn’t been well for a long time. Her body is still strong, but her mind…” His forehead furrows. “The doctors say it’s Alzheimer’s, but I’m not so sure. She had a bad fall about five years ago. Hasn’t been the same since.”

  Every organ in my body sinks like a stone. “I’m so s-sorry,” I murmur. It’s the right thing to say, and I am sorry.

  Sorry for this man. Sorry for Kaula. Sorry for myself.

  I’m no expert on degenerative brain diseases, but I’m betting the chances are slim to none that an Alzheimer’s patient will remember the events of a single day nearly twenty years ago.

  “There are days when she doesn’t know who I am,” Kaula’s grandson says, reading my thoughts, or maybe just my crestfallen expression. “But it sounds like you had a pretty…unique experience with her, so she might remember.”

  “She k-kidnapped me,” I say, figuring it bears repeating, even if Jeffrey’s already told him this part while I was having my meltdown. “It w-wasn’t unique, it was t-terrifying.”

  The man crosses his arms over his chest, the warmth in his gaze fading a degree or two. “Listen, I don’t know what happened. I was at university around that time. But Mami has always been a good person, a drabarni, a healer witch. All she ever wanted to do was help people.” He shrugs his thick shoulders. “She must have truly believed you were in danger and needed her help in some way.”

  “I was only s-seven and I was scared, so I d-don’t remember everything,” I say. “But she w-warned me about a curse on my family and made predictions about the f-f-future. All of them have c-come true.”

  He frowns. “Well…there you go. I know it’s hard for outsiders to understand, but if you’d been raised the way we are, you wouldn’t doubt that some people have special powers. I’ve seen drabarni predictions come true too many times to doubt it.”

  “And what about curses?” Jeffrey asks. “Do you believe in those, too?”

  The man chews the corner of his mouth as he tips his head to one side. “I don’t know. Maybe, maybe not. It’s hard to know what’s a curse and what’s karma. People who do bad things tend to get theirs sooner or later, right?”

  “My family did bad things. In the p-past,” I say, my throat going tight. “Is karma passed d-down? Can it just happen to k-kill people on their twenty-sixth birthday?”

  The change in the man’s expression is instant and profound.

  Recognition flickers in his eyes, and a second later he steps back, subtly crossing himself as he mutters, “So you’re…” He shivers and his breath rushes out. “Of course, you are. I should have known.” He makes a circular motion with one hand in front of his face before pointing at mine. “You look just like the stamps. What’s it like to have your picture on a stamp?”

  I blink. “A little strange, but I d-don’t go to the post office very often.”

  “Right. Who does these days?” He takes another step back, almost as if he’s afraid curses are catching. “So…yeah, your family definitely did some bad things, but…” He swallows, glancing over his shoulder before he turns back and lowers his voice. “I don’t know what you’ve heard, but our people had nothing to do with that. Not directly anyway.”

  “Right.” Jeffrey explains what we learned from Dika in Rue. “But she wouldn’t say much about the curse. She told us to find Kaula and talk to her about it, that she was our best chance to see if there’s anything we can do.”

  I add, “I’ll be twenty-six in a f-few months.”

  The man frowns, but nods and keeps nodding for a long time, as if he’s working something out in his head.

  Finally, he lifts a hand, holding up a finger. “Give me a minute. I need to talk to my great uncle. He’s in charge, but as long as it’s all right with him, I have an idea. Something that might help Mami remember.” He starts to go, only to turn back with a laugh and an extended hand. “I’m Manfri, by the way.”

  “Elizabeth.” I shake his warm, dry palm. “And this is J-Jeffrey.”

  “Good to meet you both,” Manfri says, pumping Jeffrey’s hand before clapping his together. “Let’s see what we can do.”

  “Thank you, we appreciate it,” Jeffrey says. He holds out the bottle of wine. “We brought this for you.”

  Manfri takes it, glancing at the label with raised brows before giving a little grunt. “Wow. That’s…” He lifts wary eyes. “This used to be her favorite. Mami’s. She doesn’t drink anymore, obviously. It’s not safe in her condition, but…” He shivers lightly. “Makes you think.”

  It does, but I’m not surprised.

  Ever since we started looking for answers about the curse, it’s felt as if we’ve aligned with some larger force, an invisible current carrying us along to the place we want to go.

  I just hope it will stay with us a little longer—long enough to find out if there’s a way I can rewrite the ending to my story before it’s too late.

  27

  Jeffrey

  Manfri jogs around the fire pit, approaching an older man standing by a baby pool, where several of the youngest children are splashing and tossing brightly colored toys into the air, showing no sign of heading to bed even though it’s getting late. The sun doesn’t set until after nine this time of year, but it’s already slipped behind the trees and the sky is beginning to grow dark.

  The two men confer briefly, while I divide my attention between them, Elizabeth, and the woman in the chair. Every time I glance the old woman’s way, I can feel the saggy balloon holding what’s left of my hope leak air.

  She just looks so…vacant. Even when Manfri’s uncle motions across the camp to another older woman, who approaches Kaula, placing a hand on her shoulder and leaning down to whisper into her ear, nothing shifts in her expression.

  It isn’t until the other woman takes her hand and bends low, her face hovering directly in front of Kaula’s, that she blinks and life returns to her eyes.

  She smiles up at her friend, nodding and murmuring something I can’t hear from this far away.
<
br />   A moment later, she rises from her chair, the blanket in her lap falling to the ground as the other woman guides her away from the fire, toward the wagon. Neither woman seems to notice Elizabeth and I standing by the fire, but I have a strong feeling their move has to do with us, especially after the other woman turns to shoot a worried glance our way before helping Kaula up the steps and through the opening in the thick tarp covering the wagon.

  Elizabeth releases a held breath, making it clear the interaction hasn’t escaped her attention. “This doesn’t look good, does it?”

  I put an arm around her shoulders, hugging her to my side, but I don’t speak. Manfri is already on his way back from the consult with his uncle, and I don’t know what to say. I’m not even sure what I’m thinking.

  I only know that I hate seeing people look at Lizzy with that shade of pity in their eyes.

  It reminds me of the way people looked at my mother after my father left her for a much younger woman. Maybe not a shocking development in the real world, but nothing like that had ever happened in our royal family. It was the scandal of the decade. Every time my mother stepped into a room, backs would turn, hands would lift, and the whispered gossip would start.

  It was like she’d contracted a particularly virulent illness. People felt sorry for her, yes, but they also didn’t want her too close. It seemed that misfortune of that magnitude cast the character of the sufferer in doubt—surely she must have done something to deserve such public shaming.

  But my mother hadn’t done a thing to deserve my father’s betrayal, and Lizzy certainly did nothing to deserve a curse.

  Or the rumor of a curse.

  Who knows what’s real anymore?

  Maybe no one. Maybe Alzheimer’s Disease has stolen the truth away forever.

  “Come, we’ll try.” Manfri motions for us to follow him as he starts toward the wagon. “My aunt was traveling with my grandmother during the time you mentioned. She might have heard her say something about you. We can ask. And if not, she’s always good at helping Mami remember.”

  He stops in front of the steps leading up into the dimly lit interior and turns back to us with a hand raised in caution, “But if Mami isn’t having a good night, we leave right away, all right? I need that promise before we go inside. Sometimes she takes the forgetting in stride, but sometimes the confusion upsets her, which isn’t good for her health.”

  “Of c-course,” Lizzy promises, taking my hand and holding tight.

  I squeeze her fingers and nod my agreement.

  Manfri starts up the steps, reaching for the canvas flap before turning back to whisper, “Give me a second. I’m going to announce that she has a client. She told fortunes for decades. It’s a situation she associates with being comfortable talking to strangers. Hopefully, that will make this easier.” He ducks inside and I turn to Lizzy, but her attention is fixed on the wagon.

  “Do you want me to stay outside?” I ask softly.

  “No,” she says, still focused on the canvas flap. “I might need your ears in case mine stop working.” She sighs. “That’s part of the reason we’re here, right? If I’d paid closer attention to what she said the first time, we wouldn’t have had to track her down nearly twenty years later.”

  I’m about to reassure her that it’s perfectly understandable for a child to be scared and have trouble focusing on what their kidnapper has to say, but Manfri is back at the door, beckoning us inside.

  28

  Elizabeth

  I step through the flap, pausing as my eyes adjust to the faint lamplight. When they do, I’m surprised by how cozy the space feels, and how much like an actual room.

  Pictures and tapestries hang from the canvas walls, and a thick Persian rug covers the floor. To my right, a leather couch takes up most of the opposite wall, but there is still space for a small food prep station with plates and cups tucked into cubby-type shelves beneath.

  To the left, a U-shaped couch in faded blue velvet takes up most of the back half of the wagon. That’s where Kaula and Manfri’s aunt are seated, in front of a large circular table covered by a green and blue scarf.

  Kaula is smiling, but when her eyes meet mine, there isn’t so much as a flicker of recognition.

  “Come, sit down.” Manfri pulls a crystal ball on a carved wooden stand from a cabinet beside the couch and sets it in front of the women. He lifts the scarf tablecloth, pulling two wooden stools from underneath and motioning to them. “Kaula will be doing your reading. And this is Tammy, her assistant.”

  “I didn’t use to need an assistant,” Kaula says slowly, wrapping her thin fingers around the crystal. “But sometimes, I can’t find my words.”

  “It’s fine, Mami, you’re going to do great,” Manfri says encouragingly. He perches on the edge of the blue couch, clearly ready to pop up and escort us out at the first sign of tension. “I told these nice people about your trouble. They’re still excited to talk to you. They just have a few questions, and then I can get your tarot cards if you want to do a three-card spread.”

  Kaula smiles and murmurs, “Good, good,” but her expression remains vague, as if her face no longer remembers how to fully commit to showing what she’s feeling.

  This is a waste of time, at best, and an exercise in upsetting the elderly, at worst, but we’re here and that same swiftly flowing river that swept Jeffrey and I this far, is still dragging at my limbs and pulling words from my lips. “Mrs. Young, my name is Elizabeth Rochat. We met a long time ago, but I’m not sure you’ll remember. I was only seven years old.”

  Kaula’s brow furrows, and her head lilts to the left. “No, I don’t think so. That can’t be right.” I’m about to offer a few more details to maybe jog her memory, when she adds, “You couldn’t have been more than five. You were such a tiny thing.”

  My heart leaps into my throat, but somehow, I manage to speak around the lump. “You remember?”

  She nods, and her lips pucker. “I wanted to wait until you were older, but we were leaving. Going…somewhere.”

  “To France,” Tammy offers, her eyes wide. “With Richard and his crew. Remember?” She glances our way, adding in a whisper. “He was her second husband. He thought things would be better for our people there.”

  “But they weren’t.” Kaula’s frown claws deeper into her forehead. “It was… But I don’t…” She shakes her head. “Where is Richard? What—”

  “It’s okay, Mami,” Manfri cuts in. “Richard’s gone, and you’re safe with family. That dilo won’t bother you again. These people just want to know about the day you talked to Elizabeth.”

  Her attention settles on my face again, staring flatly for a beat before she blinks and her focus sharpens. “Yes. You were so little, I was afraid you wouldn’t remember, but I had a vision. I had to try to put your mind at ease.”

  “And you thought kidnapping me and telling me I was going to die on my twenty-sixth birthday was the best way to do that?” I ask, fighting to keep the words calm, non-accusing, but heat sneaks into my tone.

  Maybe I’m angrier with this woman than I thought…

  “No!” Kaula’s mouth drops open. She glances to Tammy. “Tell them. What…happened. The story.”

  Tammy shakes her head. “I can’t, honey. I wasn’t there. I remember you were late the day we left Rue, and that you seemed upset, but you never said anything to me about what you were doing. And back then, you were always fighting with Richard. I thought it was personal, so I didn’t push.”

  Kaula turns, her gaze skimming over me to land on Jeffrey’s face. She lifts a finger, pointing at him. “No, it isn’t you. There was another boy. A man. He was the one…” Her breath comes faster, and she presses a hand to her chest. “I don’t remember. But I didn’t hurt anyone. I would never hurt a child.”

  “But you did hurt me,” I say, some demon inside forcing the words out, zinging them at the woman whose actions cast a morbid shadow over my entire life. “You put a bag over my head and carried me away f
rom my family while I cried for help. Then you said I was cursed to die, and to prove it you told me things that were going to happen in the future, things that all came true. And every time they did, I got more terrified, and my stutter got worse, and I—” I break off with a gulp, cutting a glance Jeffrey’s way. “I’m not…” I lift my fingers to hover in front of my mouth, afraid to jinx myself. But when I whisper, “I’m not stuttering,” my voice is calm and steady.

  “No, you’re not.” He rests a hand on my knee under the table. “You’re doing well. Keep going.”

  I swallow and slowly shift my focus back to Kaula. “It’s been so…hard. I was afraid to make plans, to take any path I couldn’t finish before I turned twenty-six. I even broke up with a boy I loved because I couldn’t bear the thought of—”

  “The boy!” Kaula cuts in, nodding. “Yes. The boy! I saw the boy. Very tall. Dark hair, dark eyes. I told you not to be afraid. I told you there would be healing of the bad blood. That the curse ends with you and the boy.”

  The heat rushes away from my face. “I…I don’t remember that.”

  “Yes, and that we would meet again in the woods,” Kaula maintains, her face more animated than it’s been since we arrived at the campsite.

  My mouth goes dry, and my stomach churns. “Yes, I… You did say we’d see each other again in the woods, but…” I swallow. “I thought it was a threat. That you were waiting in the forest to take me again. But I don’t…” Flashes of that long-ago day flicker in the darkness at the back of my mind.

  Had she said something about a boy?

  “Do you know who this boy might be?” Tammy asks.

  I nod. “Yes. Rafe, he…” I trail off, meeting Jeffrey’s gaze again as the hairs lift on my arms and that eerie, steered-by-unseen-forces feeling returns. “He was here, I think. A day or two ago. With his wife.”