Allerleirauh

by Chantal Gadoury

  The grand entrance led to a large, sweeping set of stairs that connected the east and west wings of the palace; many of the servants climbed up and down them with arms full of linens and bouquets of flowers.

  “Your Highness!” A small, chubby woman came running to his side, grinning from ear to ear. “You’ve returned with . . .” She paused to look at me, unsure. “. . . a girl?”

  “Indeed, Adelais.” The corners of his mouth twitched as he looked at me. “An enchanted princess.”

  He chuckled to himself and started to pull his coat away from his shoulders.

  I couldn’t stop myself from admiring him then. His brown hair seemed like it would be soft to touch, and had a wave to it that was completely natural. His hair was kept short enough to stay away from his eyes and wasn’t nearly as long as the way men of Tränen wore their hair. While boys in my father’s palace often grew their hair to their shoulders, the prince kept his at his neck and just a little over his ears. He had a regal manner to him, and appeared quite confident. I watched the way his jaw moved as he spoke, noticing then the dimples in his cheeks.

  “And what shall I do with her, Your Highness?” Adelais asked.

  The prince glanced at me and opened his mouth to say something.

  “If you provide me food and lodging here at the palace, I’ll gladly tend to any chores you assign to me,” I managed before he could respond. “Just as we agreed.”

  His smile disappeared as a look of confusion spread over his features.

  “Is that what you truly wish?” he asked.

  “It is,” I murmured and hoped Adelais would be quick to whisk me away before I changed my mind.

  “Do you have a name, girl?” Adelais asked seeming more confused than the prince.

  “Allerleirauh.”

  “A peculiar name,” she replied wrinkling her nose. “Fitting, though, it would seem.” I wondered if she recognized the name. Myriah had told me many hunter’s wives were nicknamed Allerleirauh for their fur cloaks. Was she familiar with the old term? She glanced in confusion at the prince. He, in turn, nodded and grinned, seemingly amused and naïve of my choice in name.

  “I see no need to treat you any less than a guest in the palace during your stay here. Adelais will take you to a room and will supply you with all you need. I do not require more servants, for I have plenty here. I would rather you stay here comfortably. We shall also give you clean clothes to change into.” He gestured towards the fur cloak, but I quickly shook my head in disapproval, digging my nails into the pelts and backing away from him.

  “I have no need for such things. I have all that I require, but I thank you,” I snapped.

  His gaze darted to Adelais and then slowly back to me with a firm nod.

  “As you wish,” he replied, unflinchingly. “But if you change your mind, you will let Adelais know and she will tend to your necessities.”

  “I thank you, Your Highness,” I responded and gave him a respectful bow. I knew I would need to live in my fur cloak until I was sure of my safety—until I was sure my identity would not be recognized.

  Adelais quickly grabbed my elbow, causing me to take a step back. “I’ll take you to your room,” she said in a stern voice. She led me out of the large room and down a long hallway. On either side, windows from floor to ceiling were open, providing the most beautiful view of a running river, which flowed right underneath the palace.

  “The palace is built on water?”

  “Only partly,” Adelais explained as she rested her hands on her hips. “Several decades ago, when another König was alive, this estate was shared with their mistress. She had the place expanded for her . . . nightly pleasures. Not only did she extended the palace to capture the view of the river, but to accommodate for the many lovers she took in discreetly. Through the years, the palace was taken in as the main estate of the royal family.”

  A slight breeze washed against my face as I looked out over the glistening water. It was beautiful, weaving through the lavish forest greenery. Everything about this place was warm and bright; hopeful. The painful twist in my gut reminded me of the horrors I had left behind, and the people who died because of me. I was undeserving of such a majestic place. I heard Adelais clear her throat, and I turned to see her fumbling with her skirts.

  “Come on, I haven’t got all day.”

  The prince had promised to allow me to do what I wished. Perhaps, later, I could return to this hall to enjoy the breeze again. I continued at her heels, pulling my cloak tightly around me. Adelais looked over her shoulder at me and frowned.

  “Where did you come from, girl?”

  I lowered my gaze to the floor and bit the inside of my cheek.

  “Don’t make me repeat myself,” she insisted.

  “The forest,” I answered curtly.

  “You smell like it,” she sniffed.

  I heard her mumble something about my ‘hideous cloak.’ I paused in the middle of the hallway and glared at her. Adelais looked at me and lifted her hands.

  “Is there something you wish to say?”

  I could see the challenge in her eye. I bit my bottom lip and decided to keep my words to myself. Myriah’s voice echoed in my mind, telling me to bite my tongue. I shook my head.

  “Good, come along then.”

  Adelais turned the corner and began to walk down another corridor until she stopped at the last door, at the end of the hallway. There was a large stained glass window near the chamber entry; a blooming white rose with twisting leaves and vines encircling it. I paused to admire the intricate craftsmanship. Adelais let out a sigh as I sucked in a breath.

  “The prince had the glass window placed in honor of his late mother, the Königin of Saarland der Licht. She was the most beautiful woman in the Königreich, and had the most charming of hearts,” she explained. “Her favorite flower was the white rose. You’ll find he has several pieces in the palace to honor his mother like this.”

  So, the prince had lost his parents too. As I looked upon the window, bitter jealousy filled me. He had experienced a mother who had loved him; loved him enough for him to honor her in this way.

  “When did she die?” I asked softly, and Adelais clicked her tongue.

  “Many years ago. It was quite a sad occasion.”

  Adelais did not continue. Instead, she opened the door and gestured for me to enter with a rude flick of her hand. She moved into the room and opened the large curtains above one of the corner windows. Sunlight streamed in, illuminating the large four poster bed, with a beautiful coverlet of white silk and embroidered colorful flowers. The walls had a soft yellow hue with delicate gold accents near the ceiling. The chandelier in the center of the room dripped tiny crystals and diamonds that shone brilliantly in the late morning light. I was afraid to touch anything.

  “You also have access to a private room,” Adelais explained. “If you look here.”

  She stood in front of one of the walls and gently pushed on it, revealing a new adjoining room. It was decorated with soft blue and gold trimmings on the walls. In the corner was a large window seat with a set of bookshelves, crowded with brown and white spines. On the other side, a large bathtub had been placed and already filled with steaming water by the servants. How did they work so fast?

  “A bath,” Adelais explained. “I’m sure it’s been a bit since the likes of you has seen one.”

  I resisted the urge to make a face.

  “I can tend to myself,” I grumbled. Adelais crossed her arms impatiently. I felt anxious to slip into the inviting warm water, to wash away the grime of the forest and the debris of the burning castle.

  “Right,” Adelais said. “If you need assistance, I’ll have a servant stationed at your door.”

  “It’s not necessary,” I answered quickly. “Please, don’t worry yourself with me.”

  “You’re a very strange child,” she said with a sigh. “You may leave your cloak and belongings outside the door when you’re finished. I will have the
m washed and readied for you if you so prefer. There are gowns in the main bedroom and in the armoire nearest the window,” She gestured towards a panel in the wall near the window seat. “I’ll leave you to tend to yourself as you’ve requested.”

  Adelais gave me the kindest smile I was sure she could muster, and a small nod. I watched as she turned and carefully closed the door behind her.

  I stood alone, surrounded by all of the beautiful and delicate things. I turned to stare down into the water, where I was met with my own reflection; my fur coat, a cumbersome, dark shadow. The water looked warm and inviting and my tight muscles were aching for any kind of relief. I peeled the coat away, letting it fall into a pool around my feet.

  Carefully, I pulled the frail dress I wore underneath down over my hips until it too, was in a heap beside my cloak. I could see the few bruises I had accumulated from stumbling in the woods and was relieved there weren’t as many as I thought. With a heavy sigh, I let myself sink into the hot water, tucking my legs up against my chest.

  Everything here was new and clean. The room was alight and happy, as was every other part of the palace I had seen. My heart felt heavy as I sunk further into the water, wishing for Myriah’s company. What would she have said about this place? About Adelais?

  Myriah . . .

  As I closed my eyes, I could see her smile behind my eyelids. I could feel the warmth of her hug. I longed for her. I longed for the only person who had ever loved me. The only person who knew the truth about my circumstance. Tears sprung to life as I lifted my hands to my eyes.

  “M-Myriah,” I began to sob, her name slipping past my lips.

  The loss of her seemed so real in that bright, unfamiliar place. Perhaps it was her spirit who led the prince to find and help me. Perhaps this was all her doing. I cupped water between my palms and lifted it to my face, allowing the warmth of the water to wash away the soot and dirt that had collected under my eyes. But my mind continued to race with thoughts of my home, my father, and Myriah.

  The tears flowed freely as I lifted my hand to stifle my cries. All of this was caused by my mother’s selfish final wish. An image of my dying mother lingered in my mind; the beckoning of her promise tormenting me like a scar upon my skin. If she had not compelled my father to marry someone with her hair, perhaps he would not have looked to me. Perhaps then he would not have stolen my maidenhood. Myriah might still be alive, and I would not be in the foreign palace with strangers I did not know.

  Or maybe it was my fault, and my fault alone. If only I had agreed to my father’s terms and surrendered. It was my fault the castle had burned down around my family; it was my hand that slain the innocent guard at the gate. It was my own desire for love and affection that caused my father to invite me so freely to his chambers. If only I hadn’t been so foolish . . .

  I stayed in the water until it began to cool, and the skin on my fingers began to wrinkle. My eyes felt heavy and sore. I pulled myself from the tub and dried myself. I took the time to enjoy the comfort of the warm, soft linen against my roughened skin.

  When I was finally ready, I took my satchel and removed the simple gown Myriah packed for me. It was modest and grey, made of soft fabrics. It felt clean and comfortable against my warmed skin and I could finally breathe. I gazed at the small walnuts lingering in the bottom of the bag, thinking of the strange magic they possessed and the enchanting gowns that remained inside.

  The gowns that were to be my wedding attire.

  I pushed the bag to the floor and took a seat near the window where I began to comb through my hair. I missed Myriah more with each stroke through my mussed curls. Closing my eyes, I could almost hear her humming one of her lullabies to me. The pain in my chest was profound, and my eyes felt weary.

  When I was finally finished, I lifted the cloak from the floor and slid it back over my shoulders. It felt safer to be hidden away underneath my furs in this strange place. No one would have the chance to know me, or hurt me. I couldn’t spare the chance of being discovered. I was too afraid to be myself—to face myself after all I had done. I tucked away my satchel, pushing it under the plush cushions of the window seat. I wanted to be sure Adelais would never find it.

  Finally emerging from the adjoining room, I found Adelais making the bed with a new set of linens. Her eyes were disapproving as she caught me wearing the cloak again. With a huff, she gathered the assortment of old linens and left me alone.

  23

  I spent much of the rest of the day in my room, secluded from the rest of the palace and its servants. Finding the window seat in the adjoining room more comfortable than any other place, I sat there, watching a few courtiers walking about the beautiful gardens. Everything was charming and quaint, but I would only see it from a distance.

  I twirled my fingers in my furs as I watched, daydreaming of what it would have been like to have a childhood here. Lord Crestwood’s words from the ball were entirely true. He had spoken of the grand kingdom, and the kindness of the prince. Everything about Saarland der Licht was majestic, rich, and breathtaking—even if I had only viewed a small bit of it from my window.

  Adelais left a tray of food for me on the table hours before—things I had never seen; small pieces of bread twisted into round shapes with dashes of salt, a plate of round meats and sweet-smelling cabbage. I recognized the cooked potatoes and nibbled on a few of those. With each bite of the delectable food, I couldn’t stop my mind from wandering . . .

  Myriah would never see my freedom. Myriah would never come to see me in this grand place, or taste odd-looking food. Our plans of reuniting would be lost forever. When holding my tears became too much, I pushed the food back onto the tray and left it outside my door.

  It didn’t take long for the sun to set and for night to cover the sky. My mind was lost in the fire of the castle, imaging the licking flames and horrified cries coming from its walls. I could still see my father’s wild eyes in my memory. It was over. I had to believe my father was dead, and all that remained of him would be the scars he left upon me and my spirit.

  What if Lord Crestwood did remember me? What if he did recognize me from the ball? Would I then be forced to leave Saarland der Licht? Would I be punished? I shivered at the thought of what could happen to me. All of this was my fault.

  A gentle knock startled me from my thoughts. I quickly lifted the wolf’s head over my own face, concealing my golden hair from the visitor. Again, came the gentle knock and I walked to the door to unhook the latch.

  To my surprise, I found the prince carrying a small tray. On it was a mug filled with a steaming, brown liquid, and an assortment of more salted, twisted bread. I glanced over what he brought, and then slowly up at him.

  “I thought you might like something warm before bed,” he said softly. A small smile grew on his lips as he lifted the tray toward me. “At times, it helps me to relax.”

  It was strange to find the prince at my door. I couldn’t imagine what he’d want with me. I tucked myself more closely to the makings of the frame, taking extra precaution from any unwanted or unwelcomed attentions. I didn’t want to give the illusion that he was welcome to come into my room, or to my bed.

  “Why are you here? Is there something you need from me?” I asked softly at the floor.

  “You didn’t come to dinner, and I wanted to check to make sure you were fairing alright,” he said with a shrug. After a moment, he gestured to the tray with his chin. “It’s hot spiced chocolate,” he continued. “It’s very good. We’ve had bricks of it sent from Foix De Lille. One of the neighboring Königreiche.”

  It did smell delightful. I could feel my stomach turn with a growl of hunger. Had I truly missed dinner? I took the bracer by the handle and brought the brim to my lips. The delicious flavor filled my mouth as I gulped.

  “Sehr gut, is it not?” He said with a small chuckle.

  I took a smaller, shyer sip and nodded in agreement. We stood there silently for a moment as he shifted his weight from one foot to t
he other. He cleared his throat as he peeked at me from a heavy shroud of black eyelashes.

  “Are you finding your accommodations to your pleasure?”

  “Yes, sire,” I murmured softly with a nod. “They’re very beautiful. Danke.”

  With a nod, he said, “I thought perhaps we could take this time to have a true introduction. I know your name, yet I’m afraid I never gave you mine.”

  “Do you not wish for me to address you as ‘Your Highness’?” I asked.

  “I cannot tolerate such formalities from an enchanted princess,” he teased as he placed the tray down at his feet. “I am Prince Nikolaus. Mostly, I’m known as Klaus. My father called me by that name from time to time, and so everyone else began to use it as well.”

  I watched as the prince smiled again, his dimples appearing in the corner of each cheek.

  “Where do you come from?” he asked curiously.

  I darted my gaze away, unsure of how to answer his question. What was I going to say? Would it matter where I was from? I could choose any town or city far from my father’s domain.

  “Nowhere in particular,” I replied, lowering the mug from my lips.

  He looked at me with a new question in his eyes and touched a bit of the fur on my coat. Instinctively, I took a step back, my eyes wide with alarm.

  “If you are cold, I can have some of the servants come and tend to the fire in your chamber. There is no need to wear such a heavy winter coat here in the palace.”

  “I prefer to, Your Highness,” I confessed. “I think I will retire now.”

  I began to close the door when I felt Klaus’s hand pushing back. I lifted my eyes to meet his, feeling my heart race.

  “I do wish for you to feel at home, Allerleirauh. Whatever you wish for, you can have.”

  “I wish for nothing, Your Highness. You have seen to tending to me,” I replied. “I wish to retire now. I have journeyed quite far from home.”