The Dragon Princess: Sleeping Beauty Reimagined (The Forgotten Kingdom Book 1)

by Lichelle Slater

  “I was going to search …” My ears grew hot. “No.”

  The cook patted my arm. “Let me see what I can dig out of my closet. You stay here. And if anyone asks what you’re doing here, just say you’re watching the sunrise or something.” She shuffled back down the hall.

  With Abby’s help, I was able to pack for my journey. She brought me a good-sized travel bag and instructed me to pack only clothing that was necessary, a couple of blankets, and she insisted on medicine and a few other items. She even helped me carry everything to the stable.

  I was surprised to see Philip already up and feeding the horses, and he looked just as surprised to see me carrying a heavy pouch with the cook trailing behind, her arms burdened with the cooking materials and bag of food.

  “Are you going somewhere?” he asked, rushing over to take the bag from me and then Abby.

  “It doesn’t matter,” I replied. “I need Tao saddled and these things loaded in his saddlebags.” I walked past Philip to greet the old horse I’d grown fond of.

  He leaned out so I could pet him.

  “Hello, Tao.” I smiled, excitement bubbling in my stomach.

  “I recommend you eat breakfast with your family,” Abby suggested. “Speaking of which, I must get back and get cooking.” She gave a little curtsey and hurried off.

  Philip went to a saddle resting on some sort of bench with other saddles and began loading the supplies into the two pouches. “Are you running away?”

  “Sort of,” I confessed. I turned my head to look at him. “Unless you would like to join me.”

  Phillip blanched. “You want me to go with you?” He searched me with his eyes. “Are you insane?”

  “I would appreciate someone going with me. Besides, you know your way around better than I do. And I trust you.” I didn’t know Phillip all that well, but he was kind.

  He filled his cheeks with air and slowly let it out. “I don’t think that’s such a great idea. If something happens to you, I don’t want to be responsible. It’s my life on the line.”

  I couldn’t fully blame him, but the rejection still stung. “Fine. Then I order you to stay quiet about my departure.” I left him to load everything onto Tao and returned to the castle for breakfast. I still needed to write the letter to my mother, detailing the lie.

  Breakfast was … odd. I acted like it was a normal day while I knew it wasn’t. Marigold was already feeling better, and Dahlia was chatting with her excitedly about a dream she had that night about the flowers entering the castle and dancing. My heart already ached for the company of my sisters and I hadn’t even left yet.

  “Gerard sent another letter,” Mother said.

  I tore my gaze away from my sisters. He’d just barely sent one the day before, so I was skeptical at first he’d written it, but the envelope was sealed with the same crest Gerard had used before, so it must have come from him. I broke the seal and read the uneventful letter that explained he had reached Andorin and still no sign of the fairies. It had been only four days. I hadn’t expected that much luck to be on my side anyway. My heart fluttered, though, when he closed the letter with, “I miss you, my love.”

  I softly bit my lip and closed the letter.

  “Where is he?” Mother asked casually.

  “They reached Andorin.” I tucked the paper under the edge of my plate and took the last few bites of my eggs.

  “And?”

  I glanced over. “And still no faeries.” I finished my orange juice and got to my feet. “I need to use the restroom, and then I will go to my study.” I nodded to my mother and father, and it took every ounce of self-control not to give my sisters a tight squeeze.

  Who knew when I would see them again?

  I did, however, give them a wink before exiting the dining hall. In fact, I made it all the way to the stables, where Philip had Tao ready for me, before Dahlia and Marigold caught up.

  “You’re really leaving?” Dahlia asked the instant she was close enough.

  “It was your idea.” I looked from one to the other. “I will be fine.”

  “We’re coming!” Marigold ordered. “Philip, get—”

  “No,” I said firmly. “You could still be ill, and I can’t turn around to bring you home.”

  Marigold pouted and folded her arms across her chest.

  Dahlia jumped forward and hugged me tightly. “I love you. You’ll find a way to break this. You will. And then you’ll come back and everything will be perfect. The way it should be.”

  Marigold took Dahlia’s place when she stepped away.

  “Good heavens, you two.” I wiped at my eyes before either of them saw tears. “I’ll be quite all right. I’ll be safe. You two be safe as well. Okay?” I put my hand on Marigold’s cheek.

  She nodded. “Mother won’t know until dinner.”

  Dahlia straightened. “I’ll keep an eye on Marigold.”

  I almost stayed.

  I almost gave up, and would have had the little voice in my head not insisted I leave that moment. I got on Tao’s back and began my journey, giving one last look over my home and my sisters.

  The castle had been built from dark maple wood, while the roof and accents were from a lighter walnut. The line along the top of the roof had curls, almost like the waves of the ocean, and the walnut shutters had also been carved into intricate designs, not to mention the beautiful eagles that sat at each corner of the roof.

  It would be days, possibly even weeks, before I saw my home again, but leaving it behind also filled me with excitement. I was on my way on an adventure of my own.

  The temperature was perfect, the sun glowing in bright patches between branches or through long stretches between trees. I unrolled the map, which I’d made sure was easily accessible, and held it in front of me. I knew where the castle was and pointed to the road I was on. Gerard had gone eastward, so I would head westward. Perhaps, eventually, we would meet up when I turned to the north, and then I would travel with someone.

  It had taken Gerard four days to get from the capital city of Fonland to the town of Andorin. Using that small space on the map as a reference, I looked at the town of Handlin, where I was headed, and estimated it would take a day to get there. I rolled the map back up and tucked it away.

  I chose to enjoy the time I had. Birds sang, a gentle breeze began to blow, and I watched in amusement as a squirrel scampered along a branch and disappeared up the tree. I’d chosen to take a back path instead of the main road, mostly so the soldiers wouldn’t find me right away if Mother sent them after me.

  After a few hours, however, my excitement died and anxiety sat heavy in the pit of my stomach like a rock. I tried to take in every detail of the foliage. The flowers lining the trail changed little—tiny bright white and yellow flowers with a shocking orange streak down the center of each petal, large purple flowers with huge black centers, and now and then a bluebell or hyacinth.

  Stories made adventures feel so grand.

  I had no idea how boring a journey could be.

  With no one to talk to, and the same trees and flowers for hours, there wasn’t much else to do but think. Think about Gerard in Andorin, a city northeast of Fonland. I’d never personally been there, but according to the pictures in the books Mother made me read, it was rather large and sat upon a hill among the peach and apple orchards. I also thought about the letter I left behind detailing to my mother I was going into hiding until Gerard returned. She would know it to be a foolish idea on my part, because how were they to tell me Gerard was back? How would they know where I went? I wasn’t that resourceful.

  My stomach growled, and I lifted my gaze to the sky. I couldn’t really tell, even with the gaps between trees, what time of day it was. Judging by the second growl, I estimated it must be around lunchtime. I didn’t want to stop to eat, even though I did want to stop to stretch. My legs an
d back already ached due to my years of inexperience.

  I turned in the saddle and rummaged through the top of the bag and pulled out an apple and the small jar of peanut butter. I bit off a piece of the apple, dipped it in the peanut butter, and ate it. It was a fabulous snack, and then I ate a small sandwich Abby had put in as well. I would miss her cooking and dreaded what would happen with dinner that night.

  I dusted off my lap, licked the last bit of peanut butter from my index finger, and heaved a bored sigh. “Well, Tao, it’s just you and me. I didn’t realize how long this journey was going to feel. Any ideas on how to find a fae?”

  Tao tilted his head side to side as if to say “no,” and I giggled.

  I leaned down and patted his neck.

  More hours passed.

  When the path widened and I spotted a village at the bottom of the hill, I smiled, grateful to have finally reached somewhere. According to the map, this should have been Handlin. These arborists focused mostly on limes and lemons. At least, that’s what I had learned from my geography classes. Clearly I’d misjudged the distance on the map. I didn’t expect to reach there so soon. I had gauged it to take me until the end of the day. I had hoped to stop and rest there for the night, but there were still plenty of hours in the daylight for me to travel. I didn’t want to lose on travel just for a place close enough to sleep.

  I couldn’t resist a grin as I entered the town and heard children laughing. A group of them ran down the street with a dog running alongside, barking with excitement. I’d always wanted a dog. A mother called out, “Be careful!” as they passed.

  I had no idea how the people of my land truly lived. This was my opportunity to see firsthand. The houses were tiny. Each home was perhaps only as large as my bedroom, with wooden roofs and walls. The homes stood in front of orchards of trees I recognized as orange trees, based on the paintings I’d seen, but I frowned. Handlin was supposed to produce lemons and limes, unless this particular orchard happened to harvest oranges.

  A woman carrying a basket of clothing froze when she saw me.

  I waved. “Good morning!”

  “Y-Your Highness.” She curtsied so low I thought she was going to end up on the ground.

  “It’s a lovely day,” I said.

  “Yes, indeed.” She hesitated before rising back to her feet.

  “I don’t believe you’ve seen any faeries?”

  She gave a quick smile when she realized I was only joking. “Afraid not, miss.”

  I shrugged and waved again. “Carry on.”

  Her eyes locked on my hand.

  I’d completely forgotten about my hands until that moment, and my ears burned as I rushed to hide them. “Good day.”

  I didn’t look back.

  I knew I hadn’t packed any gloves. The thought hadn’t occurred to me once.

  The walk through the town was gratefully short, and I carried on down a road, past a few wagons returning from somewhere or on their way to another town. Each time I was greeted with complete surprise, and I realized how much I’d missed by keeping myself shut up in the castle. My people had rarely seen me. I vowed to change that when I returned.

  Until then, I needed to find a fae.

  Ten

  The sun began to set behind us, and I knew it was time to stop, get Tao some water, and I needed to figure out how I was going to sleep, not to mention how on earth I was going to cook my first meal.

  I pulled the map out again. I had chosen to travel westward past Handlin. A river was supposed to run along the road, but I had failed to pay attention to that as we traveled. According to the map, the river started at the south end of the Drakespine Mountains, curved up around behind the castle, around the north side of Handlin, and then crossed the road and went northward to Tiswil. If I was where we were supposed to be, we should have seen the river cross the road at some point that day.

  Then again, the arborists had to divert the river using canals and ditches to create their irrigation systems, but this map didn’t have any of those marked. Even if I could only find an irrigation ditch for Tao, at least it would be water.

  “Think you can find some water?” I asked. “Apparently I’m terrible at this. I have no idea exactly where we are.” I pushed my lips to the side of my face and tilted the map, getting a look around. I had to be somewhere west in the gap between Handlin and Tiswil. Yet, I couldn’t see a river anywhere.

  Tao turned off the path to our left.

  I ducked my head, but then the branches became too low for me to stay on his back. To make it easier, I swung my right leg off to get down, but dropped, hit the uneven ground, and landed on my bum hard.

  I winced. “Ow.”

  At least no one was around to see that lovely attempt, I thought.

  I got up, rubbing the tender spot on my behind, and took Tao’s reins to continue deeper into the trees until he led me to the shallow, but wide, river. I exhaled a breath of relief. “Good job, Tao.” I patted him on the neck and let go of his reigns.

  Tao didn’t hesitate to take a few steps into the water and lean down to get a drink.

  I dropped my pack on the shore, grateful to get its weight off me, and groaned as I stretched. “This is going to be a long journey,” I said to the horse. “I’ve got to figure out how to cook a meal and set up the camp. You’ll stay close, won’t you?”

  Tao lifted his eyes, acknowledging me, then dipped his face back in the water.

  I leaned precariously across the mud to open the saddlebag still on Tao’s back, and barely managed to get my finger on the edge of the pot. Carefully, I removed it from the bag and got it away from the river without dropping it. After gathering a few dried logs and twigs, I opened the pack and removed one of the enchanted candles I’d brought with me.

  “Allul,” I said.

  The candle lit, and I set it under the sticks until they finally caught and I had myself a little fire. I grinned at how clever I was and said, “Lulla,” to put the light out. However, when I did that the fire also went out. I scowled. Apparently lighting a fire from an enchanted candle also made the fire enchanted.

  The second time I lit the fire, I blew the candle out, then set it on a stone for the wax to cool before I put it back in my pack. I untied the bedroll from the bottom of the bag and laid it close to the fire, filled the pot with water, and set it on the logs of the fire.

  I hadn’t realized how rapidly the sun set when you had a lot to do.

  Tao finished drinking and returned to shore, and I opened the saddlebags to try and pull out some food to cook. To my amazement, Abby had written down a series of recipes for me. My heart swelled with gratitude.

  The first recipe was for the cured deer Abby had wrapped for me that morning. I removed the vial of oil, dribbled a bit in the pot, then unwrapped the meat and used the cloth to drop it in the pot, then set the pot on the fire. I tossed the rag aside and rummaged through the saddlebag for the fork, knife, and spoon I’d watched Abby pack.

  I followed the instructions to the best of my ability, and before the sun set completely, I had a meal of almost uncooked potatoes and delicious deer meat. I rinsed the dishes off in the river and laid them on the nearest stone to dry.

  As soon as the last of the light was gone and night blanketed the sky, the temperature dropped. Even though I sat in front of a crackling fire, my back was cold. If I turned to warm my back, my front got cold. I pulled the two blankets from my pack, wrapped them around me, and lay down on my meager bed.

  I looked over at Tao as he lay down with a whinny.

  “I know, it’s not the barn. I bet you were much warmer there.”

  He itched at his back with his teeth, and I grimaced.

  “Sorry, I don’t know how to take the saddle off. And even if I got it off, I don’t know how I would put it back on. Hopefully, when we get to the next town, someone will
be willing to give you a proper bath and then you can have a break from the saddle and bags.

  He didn’t seem happy about it, but he relaxed.

  I looked up at the stars. I’d seen them hundreds of times, but there was something inspiring about seeing them in the middle of the forest with a crackling fire beside me. I closed my eyes and tried to get some sleep.

  In spite of having the mat, there was a rock in my ribs. I scooted the mat a little, only to find a tree root under my legs. No matter where I moved, or how I lay, something poked at me through the thin mat, and it was barely more comfortable than just lying in the dirt.

  When I finally got into a comfortable spot, I surveyed the clearing one last time and gasped when I saw a pair of eyes staring at me from the brush. I froze in horror. The eyes drew nearer, pausing now and then to assess and see if I was dangerous. When it got close enough to the fire, I realized it was just a small raccoon. It scurried past the fire toward the river.

  I blew a raspberry through my lips, relief washing over me, and closed my eyes again. I tried to convince myself I wasn’t vulnerable, that no wolf was going to show up and eat me.

  Eventually I fell asleep.

  When I woke, however, I had never felt so sore in my entire life. Every part of my body ached as I sat up, including my stomach with hunger. The air was cold enough I could see my breath, and the fire had gone out during the night.

  I managed to find the candle again and got the fire started, only to realize I hadn’t considered what I would do for the bathroom. That was an adventure in and of itself, and I would be wise to leave that out when I wrote the book about this.

  I managed to scramble an egg and nibbled on a couple of pieces of jerky, then packed up the camp, smothered the fire, and got back in Tao’s saddle to continue my journey.

  The second day wasn’t any more adventurous or exciting than the first day. I spent a lot of time daydreaming. I imagined what it would be like to have a little home by the river, living as commoners did, and doing housework while my husband worked in the orchards or on the farm.