The King's Daughters

by Nathalie Mallet

  "Indeed," agreed the king. "In comparison, meeting us must be a disappointment."

  "Certainly not, Your Majesty. However, I was hoping to meet the queen. I've heard such good things about her. I must say I'm a bit disappointed by her absence. Will she not join us tonight?" I knew I had made another faux pas before I had finished my sentence. First, the room had become dead silent, mainly because everybody had frozen in mid-motion. Second, Prince Diego had been frantically gesturing for me to cease speaking from the moment the word queen came out of my mouth. As for Lars, well, if his grin got any larger, I feared his face would split in half. I looked at Eva's quivering lower lip and misty eyes; she appeared on the verge of tears. Oh, that couldn't be good. Reluctantly, I turned to the king and cringed.

  King Erik looked like he wanted to strangle me. His cheeks were like two red bruises, his lips were thinned to nothing, and his eyes were now reduced to narrowed slits. He took a hissing breath and said through clenched teeth, "The queen's health is far too fragile to attend this evening's ceremony. Will you have her risk her life so you can satisfy your curiosity?"

  "No! Absolutely not—I—I didn't—" I went on babbling.

  "Save your breath, Prince. I have had enough of your blatant disregard for our customs and the welfare of our family. I've heard enough!" On this the king stormed out of the banquet hall.

  My heart dropped to the bottom of my stomach. I felt sick. Worse, I felt gutted. Because right now I was sure that the king would never permit me to marry his daughter, and by the shattered look on Eva's face, so did she.

  Chapter Four

  I spent the following two days under a dark cloud of hopelessness and misery. I stayed in bed almost the whole time, only arising to go searching for Eva. I couldn't find her anywhere, and all the messages I sent to her remained unanswered, which led me to believe that she was purposely avoiding me. Had I disappointed her beyond redemption? I asked Milo if I should have instead given them the tulip bulbs I had brought along with me.

  Milo looked at me like I had spoken nonsense. "Pf . . . my lord should have gifted them soap. That's what they really need."

  Even though Milo's comment was amusing, it failed to lift my spirits. Strangely, I felt that the mood in the castle mirrored mine. With each day that passed without receiving a demand of ransom, hope of seeing the kidnapped princess alive lessened. During my last excursion throughout the castle in search of my beloved Eva, I noted that the quantity of guards posted in the corridors had diminished, and that the remaining ones all had a disheartened air about them. Then again, everything seemed depressing and dull to me. I feared that if I persisted in wandering the castle in this pitiful sulking state I would soon be dubbed the moping prince.

  I was entering a section of the castle I hadn't visited yet, when from the corner of my eye I caught a glimpse of a fleeting shadow on my left. I turned toward it and saw a dark silhouette vanishing through the stone wall. Baffled, I took a step back. I scratched my head. Had I seen right? Or was it a vision brought on by my melancholic state? My curiosity piqued, I approached the spot where the silhouette had vanished.

  The area was more somber than the rest of the corridor. After inspecting the surroundings, I discovered that it was because there were no torches on the wall here. That's odd. I touched the cold, rough stones of the wall. Then as I walked along the corridor I noted a rectangular space on the wall where the stones were flatter and smoother than everywhere else. I glided my fingers over this smooth surface and smiled. This was a door painted to resemble stones.

  "That's why there are no torches here. Darkness hides many things."

  I probed the door seeking a knob or a latch. Under the pressure of my finger, the door popped open. I slipped inside.

  "Lord!" I breathed. Dozens of bizarre creatures towered over me. I was surrounded. In the penumbra of the room, I couldn't tell what they were. But as my eyes became accustomed to the surrounding darkness their identities became clear: statues. The room was filled with them. There was also a vast quantity of paintings scattered all around. Most of these portraits depicted fierce-looking warriors and gorgeous nymphs. Well, that was only when they weren't portraits of bizarre and grotesque monsters, like the two canvases at my feet. The larger painting of the two was of a giant bird of prey with the torso of a young woman and the face of a hideous hag, while the other appeared to be of a serpentine creature with powerful arms and a lion's head. I returned my attention to the statues. Not all those were large, some were my height and many were smaller. Some were even tiny enough to fit in my fist. I approached a small round table overflowing with such tiny figures. Sea monsters, wolves, nymphs, all were represented in this format. Could this be a collection of some sort? I wondered. My father had been a great collector of rare objects. He had rooms filled with strange and wonderful things. Was this King Erik's collection? Somehow I doubted it. For one, most of these statues were constructed of vulgar material, like clay, stone, or bronze. While the majority of my father's objects were made of precious material: gold, silver, ivory, and such. There were treasures here, though. The paintings, which were done on wood planks, all appeared to have some precious metal covering on them. Even in the darkness I could distinguish the glimmers of gold and silver emanating from their front. Also some of the statues had gems applied to them.

  My attention turned to the mound of shimmering blue silk drapes rising behind the table housing the miniatures. The statue underneath the drape was twice my height. Why was it covered? I wondered. I grabbed a handful of silk drape. I was about to pull it off the statue when I heard the sound of voices coming from further down the room.

  Letting go of the drape, I tiptoed in the direction of the voices while careful not to break any statue along the way. The space was so tightly packed with them it rendered my progress slow and difficult. Once I reached the end of this room, I found an open archway leading into a second one.

  Less cluttered by artifacts than the first, this new room offered me an unobstructed view of the group of people gathered in its center.

  All clad in black-hooded robes, they stood close together in a tight circle with their hands joined and heads bowed, chanting—except for the tall figure in the center. This one stood fully erect in front of a pedestal supporting a small statue. By his height and the broadness of his shoulders, I deduced that the individual under the robe was a man. He began speaking; I could hear his voice, but because of the strange litany the others were chanting I couldn't understand anything he was saying. As for his face, it was, like all the others, hidden under his hood. One thing caught my attention though. The right sleeve of his hooded robe lay flat against his side—empty. This man was missing his right arm.

  I was wondering if I should come out of my hiding place and introduce myself, when the circle of hooded people broke apart. Led by the one-armed man, the entire group walked behind the large tapestry that seemed to be dividing the room. I heard some rustling sounds and then nothing. I waited and waited. What are they doing?

  Tired of this waiting, I stole from my hiding place and made my way to the tapestry. "Aiii," I grumbled upon seeing the door it was hiding. Not wasting one more instant, I hurried through.

  I emerged into a corridor, but it wasn't the same dark corridor I had come in from, but a brightly lit one. I looked around, amazed. This was a different section of the castle altogether, one filled with people. I searched the crowd for the black-robed group and thought I saw one of them passing from sight around a bend in the corridor. I was readying myself to give chase when I heard my name being called.

  "Prince Amir, Oooh, Prince Amiiir."

  I recognized Princess Thalia's playful tone. I turned and watched her approach. She wore a sunny-yellow dress which, by the tightness of its pleated waist and the stress placed on its seams, appeared to be two sizes too small. Although it might have made her waist look narrower, the roundness of her chin and the swells of her arms betrayed her true size. Which I thought wasn't anything to b
e ashamed of.

  Smiling, I bowed to the young princess. "Your Highness."

  "Oh, please rise," Princess Thalia said with a giggle. "Nobody here makes such a fuss over me. Call me Thalia."

  "Well, they should. You're a princess."

  "Eva's a princess. She's exactly how people imagine a princess should be. I'm just Thalia, her fat little sister."

  "That is sad," I said.

  She shrugged. "Not really. I've grown accustomed to being ignored. Eva's always been the favorite, you know—especially Father's."

  "I'm sure the king loves you just as much," I said, feeling sorry for her.

  Thalia pouted. "Yes. But he doesn't look at me the same way he looks at her, with pride. Father often says that Eva is smart enough to govern. That's because she's genuinely interested in the kingdom's affairs, politics, and even the military. Eva pays attention to these matters, while I couldn't care less about those things. They bore me terribly."

  I nodded, smiling. I too had very little interest in these subjects.

  "Enough about this!" she suddenly declared. "Have you seen Diego?"

  My eyebrows rose. Again! I had met Thalia several times in the course of my searches for Eva and each time she had been seeking Prince Diego. "No. I must say I haven't."

  "Oh." Thalia's demeanor took a somber turn. She was disappointed. "He always does that to me."

  "Do what?"

  "Hide." Thalia planted her fists on her waist. I could swear I heard some seams rip. Face pinched, she declared, "Oh, I will complain about that . . . " She paused, her face relaxed, and through an outburst of giggling she added, "But not too much. No one likes a nag."

  She was so delightful I had to smile.

  Thalia produced a little curtsey; then, to my utter dismay, grabbed the bottom of her dress, yanked it up a bit, and took off down the corridor at a dazzling speed. The girl could run like a gazelle.

  "Princess Thalia, wait, wait," I shouted. "Princess, do you know where I can find Eva?" I sighed. It was pointless. Thalia was already too far away. I shook my head. These Sorvinkians were all crazy.

  So after yet another unsuccessful search for Eva, I returned to my bedroom and went straight to bed. Hidden under the cover of several blankets and crushed by despair, I let myself sink into melancholy. As I lay there wallowing in misery, I completely lost track of time. So when Milo ripped the blanket off me, announcing that it was morning, I was shocked to hear that a day had passed—and more so by Milo's bold behavior.

  "What? That can't be right!" I said rubbing my eyes. "I just got into bed. How dare you wake me up this way? I'm your master. I can choose never to rise if I wish."

  "No. My lord must rise. You must awaken now."

  Milo's insistence seemed strange to me. I glanced at the window at the other end of the room. It took me a moment to spot the black glass square amidst the gray stone wall. "It's still dark outside! Why should I rise now?"

  "Something has happened in the castle last night. I don't know exactly what, my lord, but I think you should investigate."

  I stared at Milo with narrowed eyes. "How do you know this? You're not supposed to go out alone."

  Lowering his head, Milo began wringing his hands. There were no clearer signs of guilt, yet I thought it was too early to chastise my servant. I wasn't in the mood for it right now anyway.

  "Forget it," I said, "just get me my clothes."

  Shortly after, Milo and I were out in the castle's corridors. We didn't question where we should go; we just followed a group of alarmed-looking guards hurrying ahead. They led us to the narrow corridor where I had gotten lost on my first day at the castle. There seemed to be something on the ground ahead of us, I couldn't see it though. All the guards crammed in this narrow space were hindering my sight. Amid the group of guards, I spotted the pock-faced youth that had served us as a guide on our first day here. I waved for him to approach.

  "Young man," I said, "can you tell us the cause of this commotion?"

  With a proud look at his companions, the young guard explained, "The ghoul got someone again."

  "A ghoul?"

  "Yes, the castle's ghoul. It's been here for years they say."

  "Hmm." I rubbed the short stubble covering my jaw. To my knowledge, ghouls only roamed cemeteries, eating corpses. Normally, they never attacked the living. "Can I have a look at the victim?"

  "Sure. I must warn you, though. It's not pretty to look at." Our guide shouldered the other guards out of the way with the rudeness of one unaccustomed to having power.

  A path leading to the corpse opened up. The instant I set eyes on the remains I wished I hadn't gotten out of bed. This was one bloody mess. The man sprawled on his back in front of us had been split open, his guts strewn about. As if that wasn't enough, one of his legs was gone. Actually, the bone was still there; it had just been stripped of flesh.

  I winced, realizing that some horrible creature had feasted on this poor fellow. I heard Milo gasp beside me . . . or maybe he had gagged, I couldn't tell.

  Taking a deep breath, I approached the dead man. "Who was he?"

  "Don't really know yet," replied my guide. "We think it's a servant."

  Careful not to step in blood, I crouched beside the corpse and inspected the gaping cavity in his chest. His heart and liver were missing. If his half-chewed lungs were an indication, those missing organs had probably been eaten. I directed my attention to the man's face. Still intact, it was twisted in a rictus of terror and pain. Gently brushing my hand over his wide-opened eyes, I closed his eyelids. A wave of tingling ran along my hand. The feeling was as light as butterfly wings—then nothing. It was gone. Magic. Sorcery. Was magic involved in this man's death? Was a ghoul guilty of this crime? I really doubted that. To me, this looked more like the work of a pack of wolves. But wolves roaming inside the castle, that was unlikely.

  "You said this wasn't the first time the 'ghoul' got someone. When exactly was the other time?"

  My guide shrugged.

  "The night after the young princess's kidnapping," answered a tall guard with broad shoulders and thick yellow mustache. Stepping out of the fold, he came to stand in front of me. "I remember it well because I was on duty that night and one of the guards who found the bodies."

  "Bodies! How many were there?"

  "Three. Two guards and a Tuvelian emissary."

  "Can you show me where it happened?"

  The guard led us to an area between the narrow corridor and the garden's entrance.

  "Which one died here?" I asked, staring at the polished stone floor.

  "All three, Your Highness."

  "What! Together? You cannot mean together."

  "Yes."

  "All three!" I found this shocking to say the least. "In what condition were the victims?"

  The guard's face paled. I watched his Adam's apple go up and down several times, apparently recalling the scene wasn't a pleasant task. Lowering his gaze to the floor, the guard said in a grim tone, "The thing . . . the thing that killed them . . . was very hungry that night."

  I didn't ask the man for more details. His answer was clear enough. "Thank you," I said, and left.

  * * *

  "My lord . . . my lord, where are you going?" Milo asked, while trotting behind me.

  "To my room, Milo."

  "But . . . I thought you were going to solve this mystery, like you did in Telfar with your brothers?"

  I stopped walking, folded my arms, and faced Milo. "Oh, I am! I'm going to try my best to sort this out. Who knows, maybe ridding the castle of its ghoul will earn me the king's gratitude and Eva's hand."

  A wide grin split Milo's face. "My lord will succeed, I'm sure of it."

  I sighed. "I wish I could be as optimistic as you are, Milo. Honestly, I'm scared to fail and ridicule myself even more than I already have. Since I arrived here, I've been unable to do anything right. It's like I'm cursed. At this point, Milo, I'm not even sure Eva wants me anymore. She's ignoring me, leaving
me all by myself, as if I didn't matter to her." I stopped talking, fearing my voice would break if I continued.

  "My lord, with her mother gravely ill and her sister's recent kidnapping, perhaps she needs to spend some time alone with her family."

  Milo's words made so much sense that I felt my mood lift and hope returned to my heart. "You're right. I am inconsiderate. I should not jump to conclusions like that. Eva probably has good reasons to—" My eyes had just fallen on a dark spot on Milo's kaftan, right on his shoulder. "Is that blood on your shoulder? Has someone struck you again?"

  Milo stared at the stain with surprise. "No!" he said, rubbing his finger on the spot. "It's fresh!"

  "You've picked it up somewhere," I said.

  We retraced our steps to a fork near the narrow corridor. Specks of blood marred the dark gray stones of the wall. We followed the blood tracks. They led us halfway down a long passage we hadn't visited before, where the tracks abruptly ended. I looked around. I could see that this passage had only one door at its very end, so we pushed on.

  Moments later, we both stood in front of a large metal door, staring at it in silence.

  I gripped the handle and pulled the lever down. "It's unlocked."

  With a nod to Milo, I opened the door. What I discovered on the other side couldn't be more unexpected. "Whooo, what is this place?" I said.

  "I don't know, but I love it," breathed Milo.

  For a brief instant, we both remained in the doorway, gazing in wonderment at what lay ahead. A lush jungle occupied the space in front of us. I could see palm trees and hibiscus bushes. The entire space was bathed in warm sunlight, and songbirds could be heard singing in every corner. Although I knew this was nothing more than a giant conservatory, for me this felt like paradise, like an oasis amid the frigid gloom of this castle.

  "Oh, my lord," Milo said, entering the conservatory. "Can you feel this blissful heat? Can you feel it?"

  "Yes, Milo. Yes, I can feel it. Quick, close the door before it escapes."

  I strolled along the gravel pathway winding through the conservatory, admiring the plant specimens it housed. I was impressed by its broad selection. Most of all, I was surprised by its existence. From what I had gathered so far, Sorvinkians weren't exactly the most sophisticated of people, and a conservatory like this one had to be a complicated and delicate operation to run. I stopped in front of a small iron stove, the third I had seen so far. I assumed that there were more of these stoves placed throughout the conservatory. On sunless days and cold winter nights, these kept the conservatory warm enough for the plants to survive. A rustling of leaves on my left made me look in that direction. "Milo?"