[Fairy Tales 10] The Twelve Dancing Princesses

by K. M. Shea

  Quinn folded her arms against her stomach to keep from reaching for a bowl of glazed hazelnuts. The food—from the rich scent of sage in the roasted chicken to the sweet tang of honey-glazed yams and the zing of spiced wine—smelled especially delectable.

  The curse beckoned her. “Come! Dance and eat to your heart’s content!”

  She brushed the observation off with a shake of her head.

  “Alena loves her sisters,” Roy said.

  Together they began to stroll around the edge of the celebration, searching for the target they were supposed to question—Reeves.

  “I’m sure she does,” Quinn said. “But Princess Brittany and Princess Diana seem less…” Selfish. Quinn didn’t know how to say the thought without utterly offending Roy’s chosen royal bride.

  Roy squinted at the whirling circle where the elves danced and reached for a goblet of wine. He had his fingers around it before Quinn realized what he was doing. She reached over and plucked the chalice from his fingers, making him blink in surprise. “Thanks. I didn’t even notice what I was doing.”

  Quinn nodded. “The curse seems especially active—or maybe it’s just that we are closer to the party and its temptations.”

  Roy rubbed the back of his neck and nodded. “In any case, Alena will make me happy. Brittany still strikes me as being a poor choice given she is the one who laces the wine with the sleeping tonic.”

  “You were the one who pointed out she may be doing that in order to save others from becoming cursed like those here,” Quinn said.

  “And you pointed out we shouldn’t guess at motives,” Roy said.

  “That was before I was given a full measure of her character,” Quinn said.

  Roy snorted. “You’ve only seen her three nights!”

  “It’s enough time to know she cares about her sisters, and is quiet but not cruel, and she’s certainly not selfish,” Quinn said. She licked her lips and tore her gaze away from a frosted sugar sculpture of a swan that sat on top of a decadent cake. Focus, she told herself. The food and drink are lures to trap us—I need to remember that!

  Roy started to drift off towards the dancing, then stopped and shook his head. “Tonight is going to be much more difficult than I estimated.”

  “It’s probably why Kenneth had us move in pairs, still,” Quinn said.

  Roy rested his hand on the hilt of his short sword. “In any case, you did not mean to imply that Alena is selfish, right?”

  Internally cringing, Quinn widened her usual smile. “Of course not.”

  “I recognize that fake grin; you’re lying,” Roy said sourly. “I can’t believe you think a budding poisoner would be a better match for me!”

  “Princess Brittany is not a budding poisoner,” Quinn said.

  “No, she just drugs folks,” Roy said.

  “For a purpose,” Quinn argued.

  “Indeed,” a male voice said behind them. “If she didn’t, there would be easily three times as many of us stranded in Alabaster Forest.”

  Roy and Quinn whirled around, coming face to face with Reeves—who smiled benignly. “Sir!” they saluted him, their backs going ramrod straight.

  “It’s fine, soldiers,” Reeves said. “You haven’t had anything to eat or drink, have you?”

  Quinn shook her head. “We know about the curse.”

  “Excellent! It must have been you in the gondola when I rowed Princess Isudora across the river the other day,” Reeves said.

  Roy dipped his head. “It was.”

  “I thought I sensed more than one person, but I didn’t want to expose you. You’re the first pair to have the sense to come together and with an invisibility cloak,” Reeves said.

  “If you’ll pardon my asking, sir, but you said if not for Princess Brittany and her sleeping tonic, there would be more people here, yes?”

  “Indeed. Ahh, here. She can tell you herself. Hello, Your Highness.” Reeves bowed as Princess Brittany glided up to them, glancing curiously at Quinn and Roy.

  So much for staying covert for tonight, Quinn thought sourly.

  “Good evening, Reeves, soldiers.” Brittany’s gaze lingered on Quinn for a moment before shifting back to Roy.

  “You don’t seem surprised to see them,” Reeves said.

  “No. Each night he has slept in our chambers, the following day he has given a branch to Alena from the enchanted bower we pass through on our way here. It’s quite the effective way of telling us he knows our secret, and it also made it fairly obvious he’s not a mere gardener’s apprentice,” Brittany said blandly.

  “You what?” Quinn hissed to Roy.

  “It was supposed to be a token of my affection,” Roy growled.

  “You risked blowing this mission because you’re trying to gain favor with Alena? Do you know how foolish that was?” This time Quinn did not hold back when Roy reached for another goblet of wine, but instead elbowed him hard in the ribs.

  Roy ignored her and locked his arms behind his back. “Princess, can you share the story of how you and your sisters came to be cursed?”

  A muscle in Brittany’s cheek twitched. “Of course,” she said, the calmness of her voice had a barely discernable edge of coldness to it. “The elves, as you must know, are…”

  “Cursed,” Roy supplied.

  Brittany nodded. “Carrill and Cassya were rather…infatuated with several elves. They were quite upset when the elves disappeared and closed their borders. About two years after the elves disappeared, they found the secret tunnel in our room—likely leftover from its previous life as a private meeting room—and stumbled upon the elven celebration. They ate the food, and the following night were dragged back to the celebration against their will.”

  Quinn kept her slight smile on her lips as she listened to the story, but internally she wanted to grumble. We should have approached Brittany about this sooner—especially since Roy blew his cover early on. It seems the curse isn’t as picky about the princesses sharing information as it is for Emerys.

  “Carrill and Cassya had it in their minds that they wanted to marry elven warriors, so the situation suited them perfectly. Alena found out about it shortly after and followed them. She was swept up into it as well. As there is a particular elf she has long fancied—and she learned his sweetheart is absent—she decided against sharing the news with Papa.”

  Quinn glanced at Roy to see how he took this information.

  He rubbed his chin and appeared unbothered. “Do all of you wish to have elven suitors?”

  Brittany shook her head. “Flippa realized what Alena and the twins were doing and threatened to tell Papa. That night, Carrill and Cassya brought all of us to the party and did not warn us not to eat or drink.”

  “That bound all of you to the curse and would assure that you couldn’t tell anyone what happened,” Quinn said.

  Roy frowned slightly. “But you were able to tell us just now.”

  “Only the events of how we came to be here. You already know what we do every night and what eating and drinking would do.” Brittany said. “Though I do feel as though the curse has loosened slightly over the past week or so.”

  “And you lace the wine with a sleeping tonic because…?” Quinn asked.

  Brittany gazed out at the dance. “Because several of my sisters and I have tried time after time to warn those who follow us not to eat or drink, but each time, the curse reels them in.”

  Reeves nodded. “I believe it was Princess Ellena who warned me when I watched you.”

  “I thought it better to keep others from joining us, but I did assume someone would have aided the elves by now, freeing us in the process,” Brittany said.

  “Emerys—King Themerysaldi—said there is a way,” Quinn said.

  Reeves folded his arms across his chest and nodded up at the elven king, who was seated on his wooden throne. “Indeed. I believe the bulk of the curse is actually anchored to the king himself. That’s how it continues on and has the power to draw folk in: i
t feeds on his magic and the magic of his people.”

  Roy narrowed his eyes. “Really?”

  Brittany nodded.

  As if he could sense them speaking of him, Emerys turned his head in their direction. Quinn was nearly positive he was looking at her, so she offered him a slight wave. Emerys nodded his head in return, his white mask a stark shape in the shadows. Quinn’s smile softened, then she refocused on Reeves and Princess Brittany. “Do either of you know how to break the curse?”

  Both Reeves and Brittany shook their heads.

  Quinn sighed a little. It was worth asking. She rolled her shoulders back and smiled at the pair. “As we failed to introduce ourselves, I am Quinn of Midnight Lake and this is Roy of Green Scales Hills. We are a part of Band Gallant. Our band is here tonight, trying to uncover as much information as possible.”

  “A whole band?” Reeves whistled. “You’re good. I didn’t notice any others.”

  “Our band leader is speaking to Lady Llyr there by the base of the pavilion,” Quinn said, pointing to the pair who were deep in discussion.

  Quinn glanced at Roy, but he was staring at the ground, tapping his foot in time with the drum beat. She blinked, and for a moment she could feel the physical tug of the music and wanted to break away to join in the dancing.

  Focus! She bit her tongue to try and clear her mind, then returned her attention to Reeves and Princess Brittany. “You will officially be informed tomorrow, Princess, but we have been acting on your Father’s orders…”

  It took Quinn several minutes to recite exactly what King Dirth wanted them to tell Reeves and the others. During the entirety of the recitation, Roy stared at the ground and continued to tap his foot in time with the drum.

  “Goblins, hmm?” Reeves frowned sharply. “I fear the king is right. Preparing to defend against the goblins is likely the wisest move. In the meantime, perhaps Prince Severin will think of something, or the Blue Rider can be sent on to the Veneno Conclave as well.”

  Quinn nudged Roy in the side. “Do you have anything that needs to be added?” she murmured.

  Roy shook his head. “Just thinking about the curse.”

  Quinn studied him, taking in his clenched fists and stiff shoulders. Is he telling the truth? He seems…upset.

  “I’ll try to spread the word around, but perhaps, Princess Brittany, it would be best if you kept this to yourself until your father and mother speak to you tomorrow,” Reeves said.

  Princess Brittany nodded. “I understand. Thank you for your aid.” She curtsied to Quinn and Roy. “If not for your strength and determination, my father would still be ignorant of this matter.”

  Quinn bowed and had to nudge Roy to get him to do the same. “It is our honor, Your Highness.”

  “Please excuse me, but if I am gone much longer, my sisters will wonder where I am.” Brittany floated off, disappearing into the crowd.

  “We had better report in to Kenneth,” Roy said.

  “Right.” Quinn met Reeves’ gaze. “Thank you, sir. We will see you tomorrow.”

  “I look forward to it,” Reeves said.

  Together, Quinn and Roy started to edge their way through the crowd. “That went well,” Quinn said. “Though it makes me feel even sorrier for the younger princesses—it’s not their fault they have gotten wrapped up in their elder sisters’ mess.”

  “This never would have happened if the elves hadn’t gotten themselves cursed,” Roy said.

  Quinn frowned at him. “What do you mean? It’s not as though they asked to be cursed. From what little information Emerys has managed to share, it seems like it was an unexpected and underhanded attack.”

  “You can’t know that for certain,” Roy said.

  Quinn sidestepped to avoid two young elf girls who ran past them, giggling. “Is there something wrong? You seem on edge tonight.”

  He shook his head. “I’m fine.”

  Quinn raised an eyebrow, but then realized she had her hand outstretched, offering it to an elf who was making a beeline for the dancing area. Though the elf reached for her, she immediately whipped her hand to her side and gripped the trousers of her uniform.

  “You do not wish to dance this evening?” the elf asked, pausing at her side.

  “No, thank you,” Quinn said. She shook her head as the elf danced away. “This curse—it’s a tricky thing. It sneaks up on you so you hardly know you’re courting trouble until it’s nearly too late.”

  “You’re telling me,” Leigh grumbled as she and Guy seamlessly stepped into the conversation. “On at least three different occasions tonight, I’ve blinked and ended up with a wine glass or a tea cake in my hand.”

  “Your talk went well?” Quinn asked.

  “Yeah. We spoke to Colonel Ultan. Stone-faced guy with no humor and as engaging as stale toast.” Guy stared at a table of refreshments with too much interest, so Leigh grabbed him by the elbow and dragged him along.

  “We need to leave soon,” Quinn said. “I think the curse’s enticement is growing in strength.”

  “Seems about right,” Leigh said. She glanced at Roy as the band approached Kenneth, who was still standing at the base of the raised pavilion with Lady Llyr. “What’s got you playing grump tonight?”

  Roy rubbed his forehead with the heels of his palms. “Nothing.”

  “Are you mad Quinn has someone else to sigh over?” Guy asked.

  “Guy!” Leigh scowled at him.

  Quinn kept her smile in place, though she spoke through gritted teeth. “Always such a jester, aren’t you, Guy?” She briefly rested an arm on his shoulder—taking care to elbow him in the neck. Lack of decorum my foot! He does this because he likes being able to blurt out what all of us are too discreet to say! She glanced up at Emerys, worried he had heard Guy with his superior elf hearing.

  He still sat on his throne, looking imposing with his white mask—though Quinn was willing to bet he was sleeping based on the way his head lolled on his neck.

  “Better stop fighting.” Leigh craned her neck to peer over Roy’s head. “Looks like Kenneth is done.”

  “Has everyone informed their targets?” Kenneth rubbed his hands together as he joined them.

  “Yes, sir,” they chorused.

  “Reeves informed Princess Brittany of our presence,” Roy said.

  Kenneth frowned and drew his eyebrows together.

  “She said she would not tell her sisters,” Quinn was quick to add. “And also explained how the princesses came to be involved in the curse.”

  Kenneth nodded and forcibly turned his back to an elf that held a tray of golden chalices. “We should leave,” he said, his voice tight. “The curse…”

  “Yes,” Leigh said.

  Quinn and Leigh swiveled, looking for the shortest path possible to the woods. Quinn pointed to a cleared trail that wove around the pavilion. “I think here—”

  “Wait,” Roy said.

  Curious, Quinn turned around.

  Roy’s adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “I think if we killed the Elf King, we would break the curse.”

  Quinn snorted. “That’s a poor joke, Roy.”

  “I’m not joking.” Roy’s eyes were fever-bright, and he wrapped a hand around the hilt of his short sword.

  Quinn dropped her smile. “If you’re not joking, you have lost your mind. King Themerysaldi is our ally. The elves have stood by us and aided us for centuries. What you have just uttered is comparable to treason!”

  Roy narrowed his eyes. “The elves are not my concern—they must bear the consequences of whatever they did that hatched this madness. It is the princesses I have vowed to protect.”

  Quinn stepped closer to Roy and grit her teeth. “King Dirth himself has told us the elves are more important than the princesses! You wish to go against our monarch?”

  There was a mean sneer on Roy’s lips Quinn had never seen before. “Perhaps it is because I have not been blinded and seduced as you have!”

  Quinn stiffened. This i
sn’t Roy. He’s been strange lately, but he would never be so, so cruel! “If you have a problem with me, we will settle it off-duty,” Quinn said, her voice low and barely above a growl. “Dragging your personal prejudices into our work is inexcusable. Tell King Dirth of your asinine idea if you must, but we’re not moving on this.”

  “That’s not your call to make,” Kenneth said.

  Quinn whirled around to face him. “It’s not,” she agreed. “It’s common sense!”

  Kenneth ignored her and called out to Roy. “Why do you think killing the Elf King will break the curse?”

  “Reeves said the curse is powered by the elves themselves—and most especially by the Elf King’s magic. Without a source of power, the curse would crumble,” Roy said.

  “Sir, you can’t seriously be considering this,” Quinn said. “We have our orders!”

  Kenneth said nothing and stared at the ground, his face twisted as though he were in pain.

  The raspy sigh of a blade being pulled free from its scabbard rang behind Quinn. She spun around, horrified and shocked to see Roy—naked blade in his hand—step towards the pavilion. Cursed or not, the elves will kill him if he gets anywhere near Emerys!

  Quinn lunged forward, getting in front of him. “Roy, stop it!”

  Roy bared his teeth at her and tried to push her out of the way. “Move it, Midnight.”

  She braced herself, resisting his shove. “No.”

  “Maybe he’s right,” Guy said.

  Shocked, Quinn looked past Roy to Guy, who scuffed a foot in the grass and stared out at the glittering party with a slightly flushed face.

  “Maybe sacrificing the Elf King will make the curse crumble,” Guy said.

  “Stand down, Quinn,” Kenneth said.

  “No!” Quinn shook her head. “I don’t know what’s wrong with you all, but this isn’t right!”

  Roy tried to skirt her, but Quinn moved to intercept him.

  “You would go against us?” Kenneth asked. “You would abandon your band?”

  Quinn froze. Band Gallant was everything. She had drilled, bled, laughed, and cried with them since the day she joined the army. Everything she did as a soldier was for the band. They were closer than family, better than friends. Leigh, Roy, Guy, and Kenneth were her life! But this is not right.