Heidel (The Nine Princesses Novellas Book 3)

by Anita Valle

  “To – my carriage!” Eravis turned in pure surprise. “Why?”

  “Because if you don’t come back here and kiss me I’m going to knock your head off!”

  Maelyn’s jaw dropped. There was a burst of high-pitched laughter from the princesses. And Eravis, looking nothing but astonished, came back.

  He grabbed her shoulders, looked at her once. Then he was kissing her, desperately, hungrily, as though he never wanted to stop. Heidel felt herself crushed against him, the press of his hands on her back, the warmth of his mouth over hers. Something sharper than happiness flared up inside her, a sort of searing joy. She clutched his tunic with her fists and kissed him just as recklessly.

  When at last he broke away, most of the princesses had retreated inside the castle, except for Maelyn who smiled discreetly at the forest. Still holding Heidel’s shoulders, Eravis turned to Maelyn. “Tell my father to leave without me.” He grinned at Heidel. “I’m staying a bit longer.”

  Chapter 44

  They sat beneath the old willow tree behind the castle, the one that hunched over a heart-shaped lake. Eravis leaned against the trunk with Heidel resting on his chest, her legs curled beside him on the cool grass. He frequently pushed back her fringe to kiss her forehead, or she lifted her lips to find his. The willow dropped long, leafy curtains around them, lending some much needed privacy. Neither spoke for quite some time.

  “Well.” Eravis gave a shining smile. “Finally, huh?”

  Heidel laughed loudly and he too. They kissed again. “I’m sorry,” said Heidel, still laughing. “I was afraid.”

  “Of what?”

  “Of... I don’t know. How I felt.” It all seemed ludicrous now. She had almost given this up.

  “I’m sorry too,” said Eravis.

  “Why?”

  Eravis shrugged. “I’ve been... a mudsucker.”

  Heidel dropped her face on his chest and laughed. He dipped his chin in her hair and rubbed her back softly. “Well, me too, I guess,” said Heidel. She raised her head to smirk at him. “But I always thought you started it.”

  “I did everything wrong,” said Eravis. “But if I didn’t pick a fight, you ignored me completely. And I would get angry. And then I’d try to make you angry. It was stupid.” He stroked her hair with his fingers. “Do you think – beneath the fighting – you secretly cared for me?”

  Heidel grinned, shaking her head. “No, Eravis! I really and truly hated you.”

  They both laughed again. Eravis cupped her face in his hands and kissed her forehead, her cheek, her nose. She nestled more tightly against him, wrapping her arms around his waist. If only this could last forever.

  “How long have you cared for me?” Heidel asked.

  “Forever, it feels like. Though in truth, probably since my sixteenth year. But I thought you hated me (rightly, it seems) and so I courted other ladies in my kingdom. But when I danced with them, I thought of you. When they spoke, they all seemed horribly dull, so eager to please and agree with me. My father raged at me for not settling on someone. ‘You need a queen’ he said-” Eravis stopped.

  Heidel’s heart rolled over. She pushed back to look Eravis in the face. “Queen?”

  “I’m – I’m sorry,” said Eravis, a bit pale. “I’m not assuming-”

  “You want me to be your queen?” Heidel felt stunned, and something akin to fear.

  “I want you to be my wife,” Eravis said softly. “I know that – and being queen – is asking a lot.”

  Heidel almost forgot to breathe. It wasn’t bad news; she just hadn’t thought this far ahead. Eravis' wife. Queen of Bauble. She? Heidel the Kitchen Princess?

  Heidel the Healing Princess.

  “I – I want to be a healer,” said Heidel. “Particularly, I want to find a cure for Red Fever. It’s always been my dream. And in these past few days, I learned some things that I’d like to investigate.”

  “You’re a wonderful healer.” Eravis smiled. “Of course I want that for you. But... do you think there’s room for me in your plans?” He reached out and tucked her hair behind her ear. Fortunately, Heidel was strong-hearted or the yearning look he gave would have melted her into a puddle.

  She bit her lip thoughtfully. “Well... I’m an unusual princess, aren’t I? So if I did marry you, I’d be an unusual queen - a Healing Queen!” The idea had merit. Queenship would give her more power, freedom and funds for her research. “So....” She smirked at Eravis. “For today, my answer is – maybe.”

  Eravis grinned. “I can accept ‘maybe’.”

  “And in the meantime you can court me, like a good and proper prince! I expect carriage rides, and suppers, and I suppose a few balls will be necessary, though I’m a shoddy dancer....” Her face clouded over.

  “What?” said Eravis.

  Heidel looked at her lap. “Eravis... you never liked my... my figure.” She felt embarrassed saying the word. “I’m a bit rounder than other ladies. You often mocked it. It hurt me.”

  Now Eravis blushed. “I did that when I wanted to hurt you. Sometimes you offended me, particularly-” His face pinched with pain –“particularly when you called my father crazy. I’m scared, Heidel. I don’t mind telling you now. I’m scared I’ll become like him. His father was crazy too! So whenever I insulted your – figure – it was an act of vengeance. I wanted to strike you where it hurt, as you often did with me. But that doesn’t excuse me. And it was a lie.”

  “A lie?” said Heidel.

  Eravis gathered her back to his chest. “Because you,” he whispered, “are so beautiful, I always ached just to touch you. And if you’re rounder than other ladies, so much the better! I want lots of Heidel to hug.”

  Heidel laughed at this and from her heart, forgave him. They both had blame to share. Now they needed time to see if they could be friends, get along without wounding each other. Friends first, lovers second, Mother had said.

  Reluctantly, Heidel raised her eyes to the sky, where the sun hovered right over their tree, sparkling through the leaves. “Eravis, I have to start the midday meal.”

  “May I help?” Eravis asked.

  Heidel smiled, pinched his chin with her thumb, and rose gently on her knees to kiss him. “Of course you can.”

  They rose, brushed themselves off, and parted the curtain of branches. The gray castle stood blunt and warm against the brilliant blue, with birds springing from tower to tower. A cat with a high curling tail sauntered through the herb garden, and beyond, Heidel’s shed huddled beneath its cloak of ivy. She hadn’t yet cleaned up the wreckage of saving Eravis; he could help with that too.

  As they strolled to the side door that led into the kitchen, Heidel reached for Eravis’ hand and smiled wickedly. “Bet you I can make a better midday meal than you.”

  Smirking, Eravis tightened his fingers over hers. “Bet you can’t.”

  Chapter 45

  “Oh please, enough, you two!” Coralina rolled her large eyes as she passed Heidel and Eravis in the entrance hall. They had just come from a long walk in the Wending Way. Heidel had playfully shoved Eravis against the wall, then lunged into a rough kiss. Most of the princesses now avoided them, ducking into random rooms when they saw the pair coming. Even Squire growled at Eravis more frequently, sensing an unwelcome change. What did they expect? Heidel thought. She and Eravis were not people to do things by halves. They had hated fiercely. Now they loved fiercely.

  Ivy, at least, seemed happy for them. In fact, Ivy seemed happier altogether. She had stopped pinching candlewicks and staring at torches. And, unexpectedly, she found confidence with Eravis who treated her kindly. When he admired a unicorn mural she had painted, she swept him into a tour around the castle, pointing out the paintings and sculptures she had done. Eravis smiled and nodded to perfection.

  On the following day, Heidel and Eravis took Ivy to Merridell to shop for new bed curtains. Shulay drove the carriage, letting it roll leisurely over the hills, brilliantly greened by the recent rain.

&n
bsp; “It did help me, you know. Beating the fire,” Ivy told Eravis. She sat alone on the white velvet bench, her crutch balanced across her knees, facing Heidel and Eravis. “I’m still afraid, but not quite as much.”

  Eravis grimaced. “Still it was wrong. And dangerous. And absolutely crazy.”

  “I know.” Ivy looked at her lap. “But, if I may....” She raised her unique golden irises to Eravis. “I don’t have my parents. I lost them all; those I was born to, and those who raised me. I miss them.”

  Eravis nodded. “I miss my mother.”

  “But there, you see?” said Ivy. “You still have your father. And I think... I think we should treasure our parents, no matter how crazy. Because when they’re gone, it’s the craziness you’ll miss.”

  Eravis smiled uncertainly. “But your parents weren’t crazy.”

  “They did adopt nine children,” said Heidel.

  “And they were far from perfect.” Ivy coughed softly into her palm before continuing. “Father treated us like dolls, pretty things to caress and cuddle, but he never spent much time with us. And Mother was too proud. She paraded us about, made too much of us being princesses, like she wanted to erase our pasts.”

  “She did, didn’t she?” said Heidel.

  “But they loved us,” said Ivy. “And your father, in his own strange way, loves you. Love is flawed because we are flawed. We all walk on invisible crutches.” She laughed sheepishly, dropping her eyes to her own crutch. Eravis regarded her somberly. “Thank you, Iviana.”

  Ivy giggled at this. “Iviana?”

  “May I call you that? It’s lovely.”

  Ivy nodded, cheeks pinking with pleasure. Heidel smiled and squeezed Eravis’ hand. His kindness to her sister endeared him even more. When they married – if they married – perhaps Ivy should come and live with them in Bauble. Eravis would be like a brother. And Ivy would always need Heidel’s medicines.

  The conversation shifted to Maelyn and her impending trip to Grunwold. She had decided to take Coralina but not Gord the carpenter. The knights of Lumen Fortress would escort them, along with Willow the messenger. Heidel felt anxious when she thought of it, but knew Uncle Jarrod must be faced.

  “Perhaps we should send him a peace offering. A nice cake, perhaps?” Eravis raised his eyebrows at Heidel. She smacked his arm. “You mean a poison cake? Sorry, but that method would be too kind.”

  “And he has a son who would miss him,” said Ivy.

  But Heidel was thinking of cake now. “Eravis... why did you make that heart-shaped cake for the contest? How could you know I would carry it? You didn’t know the third rule, so you said.”

  Eravis smiled at her. “I didn’t. It was a last desperate attempt to tell you... you know.” He nudged her with his shoulder. “I was going to give it to you after the contest.”

  “After your father had taken a bite of it?”

  “I did say desperate, did I not? When you chose the cake for your own, I was... excited and scared. Of course, I didn’t know then it was poisoned with nightshade.”

  “Same poison that killed poor Fenwick,” said Heidel.

  “Was it?”

  “I believe so. It doesn’t hurt in small amounts but large doses.... Well, you found out, didn’t you?”

  Eravis’ clear gray eyes settled on Heidel’s – Holy Teeth, he was handsome. He unclasped her hand to brush her cheek with the tips of his fingers. “Poor Fenwick,” he said softly. “He died because he had no Heidel.”

  Ivy tactfully turned her face. Heidel snuggled against Eravis’ arm, resting her cheek on his shoulder. “Thank you, Eravis,” she whispered. “But if you ever die again, I’ll kill you.”

  The carriage dipped off the squashy grass to the lumpy dirt road leading into Merridell, carrying Heidel’s thoughts back to the contest. She had not seen the slouchy fellow who had won, but rumor told of his disbelieving amazement. The cake he had carried belonged to Borris the local baker and naturally, Borris was bitter. She should find a way to publicly acknowledge his achievement. And perhaps, next year, she could host a sane, sensible contest in Runa. Or in Bauble. Or both.

  After all, a queen could have as much cake as she wanted.

  * * * * * * * * *

  Epilogue

  Later that night:

  In principle, Briette did not clean her sisters’ bedchambers. That was their domain, she’d told them. But Lace neglected her room to the point of intolerability. One hour, Briette thought. I’ll give it one hour’s work and that is all.

  Why was under the bed the cavern of no return? Didn’t Lace miss her earrings, her left shoe, her prayer books, her sheets of music, her four nightdresses, her pearl tiara, her bathing brush? Briette couldn’t reach them all; she had to crouch and wriggle beneath the oaken bedstead to gather them up.

  Coins too – enough silvers to feed a peasant family for weeks. Shameful. Briette shimmied forward on her elbows, collecting them in her palm. She considered herself a tolerant person but Lace tried her patience sorely.

  The chamber door swung inward. Briette glanced, unconcerned, then frowned. With her view cut off by the underside of the bed, she beheld two feet and the bottom of a skirt. A black skirt.

  None of them wore black, except when in mourning. Briette recognized the hem of this dress, black silk edged with a double ruffle. They had worn them for Father’s burial service, nine charcoal gowns all nearly identical. Soundlessly, the black shoes picked a careful path around the rubbish on Lace’s floor, and Briette’s frown deepened. Instinctively, she kept herself still.

  The black skirt stopped before Lace’s dressing table and Briette heard the gentle clink of jewelry. She burned with desire to inch forward and peek, but couldn’t without rustling the junk around her.

  It couldn’t be Lace who hated black. Angelic, golden-haired Lace wore white, which she kept as immaculate as her soul. And Lace’s feet were larger.

  The black skirt crossed the chamber and cranked open the balcony door. Each of the princesses’ bedchambers opened onto a private balcony, except for Arialain’s. But why the balcony? There was no way down from there, no stairs or ivy to climb....

  Briette suddenly felt foolish. What was she thinking? It was probably Maelyn, duty-bound to attend a subject’s burial service. At night... on the balcony... while wearing Lace’s jewelry....

  No, no, no. Briette crawled out from under the bed and smacked the dust off her sun yellow skirt. There would be an explanation. She marched to the balcony door and calmly swung it open.

  No lady in black. Just an empty balcony, semicircular, hemmed by a waist-high wall of stone.

  Briette’s arms prickled with goose bumps. She stepped out and leaned over the wall. The moonless night hid away the ground below, but she heard light feet tripping over the grass. Either the lady in black possessed a rope, or she had found a way to jump three floors.

  Briette checked the scattered pieces on Lace’s dressing table. Necklaces, hair jewels, delicate rings, most of it adorned with pearls. Briette sensed more than saw that some of it was missing.

  She had never guessed who the castle thief might be. But one thing was certain:

  She never thought it was one of her sisters.

  Book 4 in The Nine Princesses Novellas

  Briette

  * * * * * * * * * * * *

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  About the Author

  I’m a pretty good cook – I can make Chicken Francese like nobody’s business – but like Heidel, I’m not that great a baker. Once, for my brother’s birthday, I tried to make a cake that looked like a racecar. And it crumbled into pieces. Fortunately, that was the only car I ever totaled.

  For those who have been waiting for Heidel, I am sorry it took so long to come out. Technically, I have four jobs: mommy, retail-worker, homemaker, author (and sometimes artist). I had a temporary bu
t significant burnout. Hopefully, in time, the books will support me enough so I can drop the retail job. But until then, if you’re ever near the Marshalls store in Poughkeepsie, stop in and say hi to me!

  And please help me out by going HERE to write a review on Amazon.com. I advertise my books on various websites and some won’t let you do this until you’ve obtained a certain number of reviews. Or post this book on your Facebook page if you enjoyed it. Every little bit helps and I am most grateful.

  Briette’s book is under way and I plan to have her out in much less time. Thank you again for your patience! God bless you.

  Anita Valle

  Links to my Website & Books

  Anita Valle Art

  Maelyn: The Nine Princesses Novellas - Book 1

  Coralina: The Nine Princesses Novellas - Book 2

  50 Princesses Coloring Book

  The Busy Princess Diary

  Dog Cartoons Coloring Book

  Email: anitavalleart@yahoo.com