Heidel (The Nine Princesses Novellas Book 3)

by Anita Valle

  Eravis’ look of surprise quickly dissolved to a sneer. “All right. If that’s how you want to play.” He took aim again. “Princess Heidel!” Zip. Thunk! “For burying my head inside a rather disgusting cake!”

  “Of course.” Heidel rolled her eyes.

  “I might’ve forgiven you if the cake had tasted good!”

  Heidel ground her teeth and ripped an arrow from her quiver. “Prince Eravis!” she cried, firing. “For spitting out the first soup I ever made when he actually liked it!”

  Eravis laughed in disbelief. “I was joking! You knew that. It was good soup.” He readied another arrow. “Princess Heidel. For saying she’d rather dance with a rotting corpse when I ask her at the Winter Ball.”

  “You didn’t want to dance with me, you just couldn’t find another partner.” said Heidel.

  “Wrong. I did want to dance with you.”

  Heidel shot her next arrow. “Eravis. For spreading stories that a fairy had put a ‘fatness curse’ upon me and I would keep on plumping until I burst.”

  “You’re still not over that?” Eravis cried.

  “I was seven! You had me terrified for months!” said Heidel.

  Eravis blew the air from his cheeks before loosing another arrow. “Heidel. For never saying goodbye.”

  “What?” said Heidel.

  “You never said goodbye,” Eravis said quietly. “Not whenever I left your kingdom. Not whenever you left mine. It always bothered me.”

  Heidel stared blankly ahead of her. Goodbye? Of course she never said goodbye! He hated her, she hated him. What did he expect?

  Heidel shrugged and lifted her bow. “Eravis. For knocking me out of a tree we were climbing and breaking my arm.”

  “Oh yes, that was my goal. To break your arm.” Eravis rolled his eyes. “I was a child! I just wanted to show you how high I could climb. I didn’t mean to knock you off the branch.”

  He fired another arrow which struck the outer edge of the target’s red core. “Heidel. For never understanding that it was all just a game.”

  “No!” Heidel poked the end of her longbow against his chest. “No! It wasn’t a game! You knew I wasn’t naturally fast or agile. And so you challenged me to physical stunts, things at which you excelled! I should’ve refused but I wanted to win just once!” She nocked the arrow recklessly and yanked back the string, surprised that her vision was blurring with tears. “Eravis! For purposely humiliating me. For making me feel inferior.” With barely an aim, she loosed the arrow. It struck the target dead in the red.

  Eravis stared at Heidel in blank amazement. Slowly, he pulled out another arrow, aimed and fired. It sank into the red spot beside Heidel’s arrow. “Heidel. For failing to see that all I ever tried to do was impress her.”

  Heidel snorted but it came out weakly. She tugged the last arrow out of her quiver, but Eravis took hold of the shaft, wrapping his fingers just above hers. “Forget this,” he murmured, his eyes intent upon her. “Let’s find a quiet place. And sit, and talk.”

  Heidel stared back at him as they clasped the arrow between them. His face was very close and earnest. She suddenly wanted to cry on his shoulder, spill the burdens of her heart to him, every hope and every hurt. But that would only give him more power.

  “No.” She unclasped the arrow, leaving it in his hand. “I’m tired of your games.”

  Turning her back on Eravis, she strode across the field. Coralina was leaning on a fence post, still watching the strong men. “You’re back!” Coralina grinned. “Who won?”

  Heidel shrugged, wondering why her whole body felt lighter, as if she’d thrown off a heavy cloak. “Neither... I guess.”

  Chapter 18

  “Run, Ari! Run! Run!” Coralina shrieked, standing on tiptoes to yell above the crowd.

  “Oh! She almost fell!” Heidel cried. “Careful, Ari! Balance!”

  There was no possibility that Arialain could hear them, two screaming heads among hundreds watching the race. Seven racers on wooden stilts tottered around an elliptical dirt track. They had begun with twenty, but most of the contestants had fallen from their stilts and been disqualified.

  “Almost there. FASTER, ARI, FASTER, FASTER!” Coralina screamed, pumping her fists in excitement. A thunderous roar burst from the crowd as the racers crossed the finish line, stilts thumping dirt, churning up a dusty smell.

  “Thirrrd!” Coralina whined, scrunching her nose. “She was so close!”

  “But that’s good! Out of twenty,” said Heidel. “And look at her, she’s thrilled.” Arialain, laughing and panting, had bent down to unstrap the stilts from her feet. As she did so, a dark-haired boy of similar age ducked beneath the rope fence and jogged over to her, yelling something congratulatory. Arialain, three feet taller than the boy on her stilts, answered him coyly. The boy wrapped his arm around her strawberry skirt and playfully kissed the side of her leg.

  Heidel and Coralina looked at each other, eyes wide. Turning abruptly, they stalked away from the course.

  “In public!” Heidel cried. “What are they thinking?”

  “I don’t know why she encourages him,” said Coralina. “Such a scandal, that horrid boy.”

  Heidel found this ironic but decided not to remind Coralina who it was that contributed to most of the kingdom’s scandals. “Never mind Ari. Let’s watch another game.”

  Coralina grimaced. “I don’t know. What happened to Eravis?”

  “Oh....” Heidel glanced back at the empty archery field. “I guess he went back into town.”

  “All right, let’s find him. And get some apricot juice!” said Coralina as if inspired. “I’m so thirsty!”

  They left the fields and found a fruit vendor who sold them tankards of sweet nectar. Slowly sipping the thick drinks, they made their way back to the center of town. Heidel tried to pick up their talk on Arialain’s sweetheart, but Coralina’s responses were unfocused. Her purple eyes searched every person they passed, widening whenever they found a large man.

  Heidel sighed and fervently hoped Gord had decided to stay home.

  They turned onto a wide street that curled upward toward the square. A colorful parade of booths lined both sides of the street, displaying a haphazard assortment of wares: pots and kettles; thick woolen blankets; washtubs of different sizes; artificial hair pieces; stacks of old books; farming tools; strange contraptions; fabrics, furs, and animal skins; holy relics and prayer beads; barrels of wine; small lizards and birds in cages; and even false teeth.

  “Oh, look! Bath oils!” Coralina veered off to a booth laden with jars and bottles, perfuming the air with sharp fragrance. Heidel chuckled. “Well, that should keep you half an hour. Look for me in the square when you’re done, I’m going to check on Fenwick’s plate.” She continued up the street, steering herself around a thick clump of nobles bunched around a miniscule booth. Heidel wasn’t even curious until she heard the questions.

  “It cures everyone?” a man was asking.

  “Everyone Red Fever!” a woman replied, her voice heavily accented. “Full cure!”

  Heidel stopped. She tried to glimpse the speaker through the throng but her view was blocked by a wall of silken capes and dresses.

  “And you’re sure that it works?” another lady asked. “You saw it yourself?”

  “I use in Angtok. Everybody cure!” the foreign voice replied.

  Now Heidel burned with curiosity. Her sister Jaedis had been adopted from Angtok, nearly half a world away. They seldom met another person from that realm, especially not someone claiming to cure Red Fever!

  Heidel hated doing this but knew it would work. “Pardon me, my lords and ladies!” she cried. “But may I see as well?”

  The nobles turned irritated faces which vanished on recognizing Heidel. “Oh – Princess! Of course, Your Highness!” They opened up a space between them. Heidel smiled graciously and stepped up to table. Spread upon its rustic surface were dozens of tiny clay bottles, stoppered with corks. The old woman behind
the table wore a blue wrap dress bound by a wide red sash. Her smooth gray hair was clenched in a bun, and like Jaedis, her dark eyes sloped downward at the corners. She beamed at Heidel. “You look for cure?”

  “I... was.” Heidel lifted a bottle, no taller than her smallest finger. “What is it?”

  “Powerful medicine!” said the woman. “Cure Red Fever - quick!” She snapped her fingers.

  “What’s in it?” Heidel asked, trying to snuff the jealously that began to ferment inside her.

  “Recipe secret!” The old woman folded her arms and lifted a proud smile.

  Heidel frowned. “Why would you keep it a secret? Red Fever had taken so many lives, if you have found the cure, shouldn’t you share it with the world freely? I would.”

  The nobles smiled approvingly but the old woman bristled. “Easy for you! Princess have gold, much! But I not so rich. Must work for my gold. Sell medicine!”

  Heidel nodded but her distaste for the woman was growing. Heidel uncorked the small bottled and held it beneath her nose. The nobles watched closely.

  Heidel lowered the bottle in dismay. “It’s certainly an herbal tonic. I don’t recognize all the scents, but she may be employing herbs that are native to Angtok.”

  “How many people have you cured?” a lady called from the back of the group.

  “Hundreds!” the old woman cried, spreading her fingers. “In Angtok. Everybody cure!”

  “Interesting. And yet none of them came here with you as witness?” said Heidel. “A little proof would help your sales.”

  The woman’s face hardened at Heidel’s dry tone. “No one like travel so far. You want proof? Buy bottle!”

  Heidel smirked and reached for her coin purse. “All right. How much?”

  “Twenty goldens!” said the old woman.

  Heidel ground her teeth. It was a price only the wealthy could spare. If this woman did possess the cure to Red Fever, she was denying it to most of the population.

  Heidel plunked the coins on the table and slipped the bottle into her purse, dismayed that the nobles were following her example. But she couldn’t dissuade them just yet. Without thanking the woman, she shouldered between the nobles and left.

  “Ho-ly TEETH!” Heidel clomped back down the street, eager to find Coralina and unleash a torrent of indignation. If the old woman was fraudulent, that was disgraceful. But if she had found the cure and kept it for her personal gain, so much the worse! Heidel forged in impatient path through the crowd, bumping peasants in her haste.

  A sudden flash of gold caught her eye. She was passing a small girl who clung to a cloth doll. Not a shabby rag doll as most children had, but a fancy doll with a painted face and glittering gold dress. The girl walked beside an impressively large man with a broad barrel chest and gentle brown eyes.

  Gord the carpenter and his daughter Pipsy.

  Heidel sucked in a breath. Her eyes darted to Coralina still bent over the booth of bath oils, unaware of who had passed right behind her. Gord and Pipsy reached the top of the street and were heading into the square. The golden doll tucked in the girl’s elbow flashed again in the sun and Heidel’s eyes widened with recognition.

  “Oh! You’re still here!” Coralina appeared at Heidel’s side with a bottle in her hands and a triumphant glow to her eyes. “They had jasmine! Can you believe it? I’ve been looking for two years.”

  “Mmm,” Heidel said coldly. She was fighting the urge to slap Coralina, to shake her shoulders until her teeth rattled.

  “I need to put this in the carriage. I’m so happy!” Coralina squealed, hugging the bottle. “What about you? See anything interesting?”

  Heidel shrugged. “Nothing much.”

  Chapter 19

  “And you’re sure?” said Briette. “It was Arialain’s doll?”

  “Unmistakable.” Heidel shook her head, lips pressed together. “Selfish Coco. She must’ve given it to Pipsy as a way of finding favor with Gord. Arialain has been looking for that doll for three months.”

  “Does Ari know?” Briette asked.

  Heidel shook her head. “I’ll tell her later.”

  Briette smiled. “Maybe Coco is our castle thief.”

  Heidel snorted. “I don’t know. She couldn’t have stolen my Lumen Bread – I was with her when it disappeared.” She shifted her position on the wooden bench she shared with Briette. It felt good to sit.

  Heidel had finally shed Coralina and found Briette’s booth, tucked away on another crowded street. Uncertain of which part of town Briette was situated, Heidel’s search had taken some time. She’d passed Maelyn still towing after King Erlamon who had bought himself a jester’s cap from Merry Milliners. Jaedis performing a puppet show for a large group of children. Lace playing her harp with musicians in the square. And Shulay bending over a pen of small goats and rubbing their heads.

  “Heidel!” Ivy waved from her booth on the opposite side of the street. “You haven’t forgotten the contest, have you?”

  “Oh hogs, no!” Heidel laughed. “He’s announcing the rules at sundown.” She glanced at the sky where feathers of coral light had stretched across the blue. Less than an hour.

  She was grateful to see Ivy’s painted rocks were selling well. Ivy sold them cheaply, more for the enjoyment of sharing her work rather than desire for money. For the moment she looked happy, not scared or worried or ill. It lightened Heidel’s heart.

  Briette’s booth held no wares at all, just a blue tablecloth, a fat ledger book, and a banner emblazoned with the word ‘Employment’. Whenever a curious peasant approached, Briette took down his name and a description of his work skills.

  “Holy Teeth. Are we finally hiring servants?” Heidel asked as Briette’s quill scratched across the ledger.

  Briette shook her head. “This isn’t for us. I’m trying to learn who needs employment and what kind of work they’re suited for. I’ve also taken information from nobles looking for hired help. Then it’s a simple matter of matching them up.”

  Heidel frowned. “That’s sounds like something Maelyn would do.”

  “It’s different,” said Briette with a dash of annoyance. “Maelyn addresses the people’s concerns when they come to her. She’s too busy to seek out finer ways to help them. And I like doing this – it makes me feel useful.”

  Heidel snorted. “Has anyone said you’re not useful? You clean the whole castle!”

  “Yes – for us,” said Briette.

  Heidel’s reply was curtailed by the sight of Arialain ambling up the street, her arm linked with the boy from the race. What was his name? Oh yes - Tofer. They paused on reaching Ivy’s booth and Arialain made a fuss over the painted rocks, examining them with a charmed smile.

  Tofer looked less impressed. “Painted rocks?” He picked one up and tossed it carelessly in his hand. “What do they do?”

  “They’re decorative,” said Arialain cheerfully. “You would put them on a mantle shelf... or bedside table.”

  “More like fancy slingshot stones.” Tofer laughed but a look of hurt flickered on Ivy’s face.

  Heidel stood up.

  “They have other uses,” Ivy said defensively. “They’re good for holding a sheet a parchment that’s curling up at the corners. And they can be given as tokens of love or friendship.”

  Tofer snorted. “I hope you’re not trying to sell one to me.”

  Ivy blushed. “N-no, of course not. I just-”

  “But they’re cute, Tofer!” Arialain grinned and held up a round, flattish stone. “See? It’s a frog!”

  Tofer smirked. “Looks like the kind you find squashed under a carriage wheel.” The look of pain sharpened on Ivy’s face.

  “Arialain,” she said calmly, “Why don’t you take your friend and find him something to eat? Right now would be good.”

  Tofer looked at Heidel. He had a thin face, flat brown hair, a large hump of a nose. Slightly taller than Arialain but shorter than Heidel. “Is there a problem, Highness?” he asked dryly.


  “I just think your mouth would be better occupied if it were plugged up with food,” said Heidel, staring straight in his eyes.

  Arialain, never rebellious, tugged at Tofer’s arm, but he planted his feet and faced Heidel squarely. “I don’t recall I said anything wrong.”

  “You were undermining Ivy’s work.”

  Tofer blew a sneering breath. “Her work? Is that what you call it? Sitting in a palace and painting useless trinkets? Though I suppose someone like her-” he gestured loosely at Ivy and her crutch “-isn’t good for much else.”

  Heidel’s right fist shot out and smashed against Tofer’s nose. The blow toppled him like a wooden pin and the back of his head struck the table as he fell. He crunched on the ground, hands clamped behind his head as blood gushed from his nose.

  “HEIDEL!” Arialain shrieked, diving to Tofer’s side. “What’ve you done!”

  “Not enough, apparently. He’s still alive.” Heidel massaged her knuckles which felt beautifully sore. She didn’t care that Briette had jumped to her feet in consternation, or that several festival folk were grinning in her direction. All that mattered was Ivy, watching Tofer writhe and curse upon the ground, biting her lip her restrain a smile.

  Heidel brushed her fringe of hair to one side of her forehead. “If you’ll all excuse me, I have a contest to attend.”

  Chapter 20

  Heidel waited in the square with a large group of bakers. They huddled around the old execution stand, a wooden deck raised above their heads on sturdy beams. The hanging apparatus had long since been dismantled and the stand now served as a place of public announcement. Though the trapdoor in the deck gave a grim reminder....

  Heidel surveyed the men and women assembled. Most, she noted, were older than herself. She spotted Borris, a local baker. He would be tough to beat. A long-nosed woman who looked annoyed with everyone. A dark, foreign man, wide enough to eat Heidel for supper and Squire for dessert. A spritely girl who looked very determined.

  Heidel felt a nudge at her shoulder; Eravis had crept in beside her. “Oh hello,” she mumbled. She felt oddly shy in his presence.