I had many miles to cover in the darkness before the sun came up again. The rain seemed never-ending. It became clearer, the farther away from the castle I ran, the more alone in the world I was.
With the rain falling over the hundred pelts, I pushed the hood away from my face, letting the water soak over my hair and face. The walk in the forest became tiring, and the darkness started to play with my eyes. I began to see shadows shaped like the king between tree limbs, ghosts of the monster I left behind. Would he always haunt me?
After a moment of rest, I pushed onward through the deep thicket. I knew if I kept the moon to my side and the stream on the other, I would make it to Saarland der Licht before sunrise. As soon as I saw the sun begin to crest over the distant mountains, I knew I needed to hide. I imagined if there were any of my father’s supporters left, they would be in search for me. My legs were numb and my entire body was cold. I pulled myself into a small bundle and laid beside the base of a hollow tree. I would be safe for now. I would sleep, and I would figure out where to go in the first day of my new, free life.
21
I woke in a tangle of my coat and leaves. A noise in the distance jolted me awake. I paused, laying as still as I could as I tried to decipher where it had come from. A snap of a stick echoed nearby. I tugged my cloak around me more tightly, afraid, until I heard children’s laughter edging closer. Perhaps this was a sign I was nearer to a town or village than I thought; perhaps safety was only a few more miles away.
The image of Myriah and the castle filled my mind again, and I quickly tried to suppress the thoughts. I couldn’t think about her. I needed to focus on moving forward. My fingers shook as I pulled the satchel closer to my side. Be strong.
I lifted my head slowly and saw a group of boys in the distance walking along the muddy path ahead. They were picking up large sticks and pretending to have sword fights with them. One of them peered ahead, catching sight of my wolf’s head hood and froze.
“What is that thing?” One of the boys called out, their finger pointed to me. “Do you see that thing? What is that? Is that a wolf?”
I held my breath, debating whether I should move or not. If I remained still, perhaps they’d leave me—or rather, the wolf—alone.
“We should kill it!” One of the other boys shouted and lifted his pointed stick into the air.
I pushed myself to my feet. It was time to find a better place to hide.
“Wait! It just stood up! Come on, boys! It must be a beast!”
I could hear their feet splashing in the mud and I moved into a thicket of brush and thorns. I pulled my coat all around me and prayed to God they’d go away.
Holding my breath, I curled myself up underneath my cloak. I knew how some children could be cruel to strange and unusual animals. I had often seen some of the court children chasing and taking animals, beating them and sometimes killing them. Boys were often like their fathers: wanting to hunt and hurt the unknown.
“Where did it go?” One of the boys shouted, and ran past the bush I was hiding in. “You saw it, didn’t you?”
I managed to peek towards them as I lifted my hood for a moment. The boys were watching all around the trail with hopes for another sighting.
“Look!” I watched as one of the youngest boys in the group, blonde and small, gestured towards something in front of them. “Is that the prince?”
I wanted to peek and see for myself, but I knew once I was within sight, they’d throw the small stones they’d gathered in their hands. They dropped the fist-sized pebbles, sending them clattering around their feet, and knelt in the muddy trail.
“It’s the prince!” Another gasped and tugged the rest of the boys to the side of the dirt road.
Only a moment later, I heard the pounding of the horses’ hooves go by and then a gentle, “Whoa . . .” to ease the horses to a halt.
“You! Boy,” a man called out to the group of them, and one of the boys lifted his chin.
The boy’s jaw grew taut as he gritted his teeth and stuck his chest out, a man in a little boy’s body.
“What are the three of you doing so far away from the village?” One of the men on the horses asked.
“We saw a beast, sire. We were hoping to hunt it and bring it back for supper,” the boy explained. I wasn’t sure how much of a meal I’d be when they realized I was not a beast.
“A beast?” The voice belonged to another man.
This voice was softer and kinder than the other. I tried peer around a tree limb to observe the scene a little more clearly. There was a line of horses with men upon them; two men were in the lead.
I first noticed a man with dark hair and a familiar silhouette. As I studied him, I identified him as the very same man I danced with at the ball. My mind felt hazy trying to recall his name, but I knew him. I scanned the man beside him. His face seemed recognizable, as if I had once seen a portrait of him in my father’s gallery. He appeared only a few years younger than the first and yet, was strikingly handsome. His hair was brown, flecked with a soft red gold, and he appeared well dressed. Perhaps he was the prince the man spoke of at my father’s party.
“Where did you see this beast?” The familiar, dark-haired man asked, glancing around his horse.
“We cannot seem to find it, sire,” the youngest boy exclaimed, standing abruptly.
His wheat-colored locks fell onto his face and he was quick to push them away and stare up at the two larger men. The other man, who I imagined to be the prince, smiled and gestured for the youngest to come to his side.
“Perhaps the beast was an enchanted princess and you scared her away with your sticks. If we remain still and quiet, perhaps she’ll show herself to us.”
“Or perhaps it was a terrible warlock who wants to take us back to his cottage and eat all of us!” The bigger boy frowned and crossed his arms.
The youngest boy shot a glare at him and shook his head.
“And what are your names, then?” the prince asked, glancing at the three of them.
The youngest was quick to answer with, “Ben!”
The middle boy, who had been asked to speak first, replied with, “Edmund.”
The eldest replied with, “John.”
“And you’re the König!” Ben said with a toothy grin.
The prince nodded slightly, “Almost, Sir Ben. And when I am, you shall have a seat at my knight’s table!” He winked at the child and the boy stood in awe of him.
I couldn’t stop myself from smiling at the playful scene. The prince seemed good and kind to his subjects; a man who loved the people and children of his kingdom.
“Now, how about we find this enchanted beast?” the prince asked with amusement as he glanced back at his men on horseback.
The man who appeared slightly older than the prince sighed heavily. “Your Grace, we’re expected back at the palace for the council . . .”
“They’ll understand, Crestwood,” he replied quickly and glanced back to the boys.
Crestwood. It was Lord Crestwood. I felt a shiver run down my spine. He was the man I danced with just a few weeks before. He would, of course, recognize me. Would he know of what had happened in Tränen by now? Would I be forced to return upon discovery? I wondered if there were already rumors of the burned castle, the crazed König, and the missing princess. I began to panic, watching as the prince pushed himself from his horse.
“Tell me, where did you last see the beast?” the prince asked as he passed the reigns over to Lord Crestwood.
The little one, Ben, gestured towards the trees where I had tucked myself away.
I saw the prince squint, lifting his hand to shield his eyes from the rays of the sun beating down through the canopy.
“Over this way?” he asked as he started towards the bushes.
I pulled my cloak tighter around myself, hoping I would remain unseen. I lifted my gaze to find his own emerald eyes latched to mine.
“Yes, I think I do see something, Ben,” he murmured sof
tly.
The prince lifted his hand to keep the boys away as he squinted to get a closer look. How I wished I could leap from my hiding place and run again.
“What are you?” he asked softly, leaning hesitantly towards me as our eyes met.
I hoped it would not have been so easy to find me in the thicket. The prince had a sharp eye and must have made out my furs despite the thorns and leaves. I watched as he took another step closer. My heart hammered wildly in my ears.
“If you promise you won’t hurt me . . .” I said suddenly, “I will come out.”
My words seemed to stop the prince altogether. As he paused, he assessed my hundred furs. I was sure I was quite a sight; a wolf’s hood, furs of every animal, all draped across a figure of a woman he could not see.
“No one will harm you . . .” he replied softly. “My honor as a prince. I swear it.”
He bowed slightly and slowly eased his hand towards me.
I wondered what the others saw from behind him. Did Lord Crestwood see his prince offering his hand to a patch of weeds, thorns, and a wild animal? I knew I had two choices. I could stay in the thicket and continue to travel under the cover of nightfall, or I could go with the prince and Lord Crestwood, and hope for the chance of staying hidden among their court.
The prince still held his hand out to me. I stared at it, unblinking, all the blood draining from my face.
“It’s only a hand. It won’t harm you,” he insisted.
Little did he know what damage hands could do. I slowly nodded my wolf’s hood and let my human hand emerge from the depth of fur. I could hear the sharp intake of his breath.
Was he expecting a man? Something non-human?
“Your name?” he asked cautiously as his eyebrow lifted in piqued curiosity.
I could hear the little boy call behind him: “Who is that, sire? Is it an enchanted princess?”
“Indeed, Sir Ben. An enchanted princess.” His eyes locked with my own.
I darted my gaze away, feeling uncomfortable under his scrutiny. While I liked his tender face and kind, sympathetic eyes, I felt fear in not knowing his intentions. He inched his fingers closer towards mine, his eyes beckoning me to find them. At last, his hand slipped over mine, touching my skin gently. I pulled my hand away, resisting the memory of my father’s hands on my wrists.
“I just want to help,” he said, lifting his hands for me to see.
I swallowed back a whimper that began to rise in my throat.
“Your name?” The prince tried again.
“Allerleirauh,” I replied softly, taking upon the name Myriah had mentioned to me in my room only a mere day ago. I would never call myself Princess Aurelia again.
“Allerleirauh?” he asked, tilting his head slightly. “Indeed, you must be an enchanted princess with a name like that.”
I could hear the gentle teasing in his tone.
“Hardly enchanting,” I confessed. The prince tried to reach for my hand again, but I shook my head.
“I promise you no harm will come to you,” he explained.
“I’ve learned men’s promises are something I’m not interested in,” I replied curtly.
His eyebrow lifted in curiosity and he nodded, seeming to be a little in disbelief with my brazenness.
“Do you live nearby in these woods?” he asked, gesturing towards the pines surrounding us. Perhaps he imagined such a strange being, dressed in an unusual cloak would live in a hollow tree, or a small wood-cutter’s cottage.
“No,” I replied, shaking my head.
“Do you have a Königreich in which you belong to?” he asked again.
I could see he wanted information, but I wouldn’t share him anything. There was nothing to give.
“I don’t,” I answered. “I’m not from anywhere. I belong to no one.”
“I see,” he said simply and gestured towards his men behind him, where the three boys still stood watching the two of us. “Well, my lady,” he continued, lifting his green eyes back to the wolf’s head upon my own. “My Königreich is large, and I’m sure I could find a place for you to stay if you wish it.”
Was it safe to go with him? Was there a chance that he’d realize who I was? Was it safe to travel to another kingdom where unfamiliar eyes would scrutinize me to inevitably learn my identity? Would they put me to death for the murder of my father and his people?
“I’m sure if you wish for work, I could find you a place in the kitchen, or the household. We could find you a more suitable coat too,” he said as he reached out to touch the cloak.
I pulled away, a small growl emerging from me. He needed to keep his distance.
“Or . . . you can keep your coat,” he said with a click of his tongue. His eyes cut back to the men behind him again and he sighed. I wrapped my arms around myself, tightening my grasp on the cloak. I would never be the golden girl again; the wild coat was my freedom and my shield.
“Crestwood . . .” the prince turned his attention toward the familiar man upon the horse and gestured for him to come closer. Crestwood. The same man who had smiled at me at my father’s ball; the man who had been so kind and courteous.
As I took a step back into the thicket, I felt an overwhelming sense of uncertainty. Would Lord Crestwood recognize me despite the ash on my face and the hood shielding my eyes? Would he advise the prince to send me back to my father’s castle?
“Crestwood, have one of your men give up their horse for my new friend. We’re going to take her to the palace, where she can wash up, eat, and have a place to sleep tonight.”
“Are you sure, sire? The council is waiting—”
“The council will be fine, Crestwood. A horse, please. Do what I ask.”
I saw Lord Crestwood’s eyes scan me over from a distance and he let out a sigh. The prince turned his attention back to me and extended his hand out again.
There was a kindness to the prince that my heart begged for me to see. My instincts advocated he could be trusted, yet I knew I needed to be wary. I remembered my evening with Crestwood only weeks ago, in which he spoke highly of the prince and the kingdom. I knew if I agreed to go with him, I stood a chance at survival.
It was only a few moments later that Lord Crestwood was behind the prince, pulling on the reigns of an exquisite horse. I took a step from the bushes, keeping the hood of my cloak low over my face to prevent from being recognized. I supposed it would be simple to climb on the horse and ride off in a new direction, but something inside prevented me from doing so. There, in the prince’s kindness, lurked a sort of hope I never thought I’d feel again.
“Take her to the palace,” he said to his men and then slowly turned to me with a smile. “You’ll be safe there. On my honor.”
22
A s we traveled through the village just outside the castle walls, I was surprised to see the townsfolk with smiles on their faces. While many of them were going about their daily chores, they looked healthy and happy. The prince acknowledged those around us with a wave of his hand and a warm nod. His kindness towards his subjects surprised me too. I chanced a glance in the direction of Lord Crestwood, who rode on the other side of the prince. I could feel his eyes staring at me curiously, taking in the sight of a strange girl who wore a strange cloak.
We rode through the village and entered a path into another forest. As I took in the sights of the quiet spring greenery, I began to wonder where exactly the prince’s palace was.
“Have you ever been to Saarland der Licht?” the prince asked. I pulled on the reigns a little, keeping a steady pace with him.
“No, sire,” I replied softly.
“I hope you find a liking to it. It’s quite beautiful here.”
I didn’t respond. We came to the edge of the forest, where a dirt path revealed itself, between the line of trees on either side. The sight was majestic—magical. Sun rays glistened down through the canopy, while the soft melody of birds echoed off the tall birch bodies.
“Almost home,” the
prince said with a smile, his hand gesturing forward. “See the clearing ahead?”
I replied with a silent nod. We rode on, until the trees on either side of us disappeared, and the clearing revealed two stone statues and a lush green garden. Beyond that were spirals of towers and the white stone wash of his palace.
As I gazed over the rich green grass of the estate gardens, I took notice of a few courtiers walking along the gravel path, lined by potted bushes all the way to the front entrance.
“What do you think?” he asked slowing his horse to an eventual stop.
Did it truly matter what I thought? The palace was beautiful, and his grounds were lavish. Everything about Saarland der Licht was bright and hopeful; nothing at all like Tränen, which seemed to always be rainy and dismal.
“It’s beautiful,” I murmured.
“Come Allerleirauh” he said, tilting his head towards the large, burnished doors. “There is much more to see.”
I was surprised by his cheerfulness. He truly wished for me—an unknown commoner— to see his castle? I followed as he instructed, taking my horse up to the entrance steps. He pushed himself from his horse and came to stand beside me. He lifted his hands for me to take, but I ignored them. I pushed myself down, landing on my feet. The prince lifted his brow, amused.
“Over there,” he gestured to his left as we climbed the shallow set of stairs onto the marble terrace, “is one of my favorite gardens. Orange trees grow there.”
He waited until a servant opened the doors, and led me into the grand foyer. He came to stand next to a large, white fireplace and smiled. Sunlight filled the room, bouncing light against large, glittering crystal chandeliers. The walls were soft, warm colors, decorated by murals of landscapes and unfamiliar faces. I could feel his eyes on me and my cheeks burned under his unwavering stare.
I was nothing but a dirty animal standing in the middle of a lifestyle I had left behind. I knew I could never enjoy such a lifestyle as Allerleirauh. Here, there was life and abundance that Tränen never offered to me. I wondered what my life would have been like if my father’s castle was as radiant as the prince’s palace.
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