The Enchanted Kingdoms (Haunting Fairytales Series Book 1)

by Becca Alexandra

  Henry bowed then handed her the box. ‘For you, Princess. Happy birthday.’

  Snow opened the box and gasped. ‘It’s beautiful! Thank you so much!’

  Henry smiled sadly. ‘I would offer to put it on, but I wouldn’t reach,’ he admitted, embarrassed.

  Snow giggled. ‘Here,’ she said and knelt so Henry could reach her neck. He moved her hair out of the way, which he noticed was perfectly straight, and hung the necklace around her neck. She stood up and examined it. ‘It’s so beautiful.’

  Her mother looked down at her. ‘Like you. Beautiful and unique.’ Since Snow’s father had died, her mother was all she had left. They were close and happy, and they meant everything to each other.

  Fortunately, Snow also had amazing grandparents, so she never felt unloved. However, she felt such immense pressure to marry. She knew her mother didn’t want to marry again.

  She said love would be the only reason she would marry, and being a princess meant that men only wanted one thing; to be king. Love had nothing to do with it. Mary had stopped the king from sending in suitor after suitor for Snow, explaining that she is just fourteen and needs to live a little first.

  However, Snow knew that her future was decided for her. As soon as she reached sixteen, not even her mother would be able to stop the king from marrying her off. She would enter a loveless marriage then probably soon after become queen. Snow loved her birthday. It took her mind off everything. Her days were filled with lessons, greetings, meetings, more lessons, and appearances around Northmanni. She was always travelling too. This would be the only time in the next year when she could be free from her tasks and hoped that she and her mother could spend some time together in the evening.

  Mary looked down at Snow and looked over at the Duke of Carlin, the largest town in Northmanni. ‘Snow,’ she whispered. ‘I believe the duke wants another dance.’

  Snow sighed. ‘Last time, he stomped on my foot!’

  Mary laughed. ‘He’s just a little clumsy. Go on.’ As Snow walked away begrudgingly to dance with the duke, Mary turned her attention to Henry. ‘Thank you for Snow’s beautiful gift. It really is one of a kind.’

  Henry blushed. ‘My pleasure.’

  ‘Would you like to dance?’ Mary asked, biting her lip. She didn’t understand it, but she felt a warmth when she was around Henry.

  Henry frowned. ‘I’m too small. Everyone will look at you, and we won’t be able to dance properly.’

  Mary looked around. ‘I do not care what people think, but if you would rather, we can go into the gardens and dance away from everyone. I can be quite clumsy, so I don’t like to dance in a crowd.’

  He laughed. ‘My nickname is Dopey. I’m … well, a bit dopey.’

  Mary smiled, making her cheeks ball up as they flushed red. ‘Guess we make the perfect pair.’

  ***

  The clouds swept together, slowly moving past the full moon. The sound of water trickling from the palace pond and frogs croaking were all that could be heard.

  ‘It’s beautiful,’ Henry said.

  Mary smiled but didn’t reply. He noticed every little detail about her; her cute dimples, the way her lips didn’t lose their colour when she smiled, her little freckle above her top lip, how one eyebrow arched more than the other did. He was falling for her. Their dance had been perfect. They both fell over, Henry accidentally stood on her toe, and they walked over to a hill, not far from the palace pond.

  Henry pondered about Mary’s husband and hesitated to bring it up all night, but now it seemed like the right time. ‘What happened to your husband, if you don’t mind me asking?’

  She sighed. ‘He was ambushed and stabbed for his jewels when returning to his kingdom. It was some time ago now. I just get upset for little Snow, growing up without a daddy.’ She gulped and wiped a tear from her cheek.

  ‘I may have to marry again, probably to someone I won’t love. Someone picked by my father. I guess I have to just settle for a loveless marriage; it means Snow won’t be pressured into one, and it’ll be for the good of the kingdom, I guess.’

  Henry placed his hand on top of hers. ‘We all settle for so much in life. Mostly everything is mundane, but love shouldn’t be. It is one of the few things that can change us. We should feel as if we are being swept up in a hurricane. It’s hard to breathe; it’s scary yet so exhilarating. You’d die smiling because of that feeling—even if only felt for a millisecond, it’s a million times better than an eternity of just being content. I’d die happily if I could feel that feeling; that is what life is about.’

  He paused as she looked at him, but something was different in her gaze. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. He slowed his breathing and continued. ‘I guess I’m just a hopeless romantic. A fool.’

  ‘Actually,’ she interrupted. ‘I think you’re one of the wisest men I have ever met.’

  He blushed. ‘Don’t give up on love, sweetheart. Don’t settle for a loveless marriage. There’s someone for everyone. Fight for it.’

  ‘I did give up on love,’ she admitted, ‘until I met you.’

  His heart skipped a beat, but the croak of the prince coming from his pocket brought him crashing back down to reality. The sadness he felt for the prince was much more consuming than the love, yet it was tearing him in separate directions. He was stuck between two people, two emotions—both strong, both deadly.

  ‘But like hurricanes, it can cause uncontrollable amounts of destruction. And on that thought, I must bid you goodbye. Thank you for your hospitality. I hope you find what you’re looking for.’

  She stood up, lifted the bottom of her dress off the grass, and turned away from him. ‘If that’s how it must be, then goodbye. I thought you said love is worth fighting for?’

  Henry peered into his pocket to see an angry looking frog. ‘It is.’ His heart sunk as he chose to lie. He had to save her, even if going against Edward’s wishes was crushing his heart. ‘Mary, we met for all of a few hours. This, this was never anything more than a friendship,’ he lied. He walked away, leaving a disappointed Mary behind.

  Edward poked his head out of the pocket. ‘That love rubbish was perfect! She was perfect! What were you thinking, leaving like that?’ he asked.

  Henry looked at the prince and closed his pocket after whispering, ‘I was in no way going to let you hurt her.’

  Edward forced his way back out of the pocket. ‘You would have; that sadness wrapped around your heart would have meant you would have stood aside, and you know it!’

  ‘Yes. That’s exactly why we are leaving!’ Henry said and walked back to the inn; his thoughts focused on Mary. ‘You’ll always be the one who got away,’ he whispered to the sky before taking a deep breath.

  ***

  Edward waited for Henry to fall asleep. ‘Your snores are loud enough to wake a dragon,’ he said as he hopped out of the neat little bed that Henry had made him earlier. He jumped out of the little room in the inn and went down the stairs. After what felt like an hour, he reached the bottom. ‘Damn door,’ he mumbled and looked up at the closed, heavy oak door. A slight breeze swept the room, just enough for the prince to feel. He found his way up to an open window and leapt out into the cool night. He made his way to the palace. The ball was finishing, and everyone was leaving. He avoided everyone’s feet as he hopped around the palace to the gardens. He spotted Mary on the bank, still sat in the same place. ‘Surely, it can’t be this easy?’ he muttered under his breath. He hopped over to her and croaked. Tears fell down Mary’s porcelain like cheeks and into her hair as she laid back. As she heard the croak, she sat up.

  She tilted her head. ‘Hello, little frog.’

  ‘Hi,’ he replied.

  She jumped and scrambled to her feet. ‘You’re not supposed to talk. You’re a frog!’

  He sighed exasperatedly. ‘Magic, love. I’m cursed and need a princess to break it.’

  She furrowed her eyebrows and knelt. ‘Break it, how?’

  H
e puckered his green lips. ‘With a kiss.’

  Her eyes widened. ‘Oh, uh, I don’t really know what this means or why you have come to me, but I have had my heart broken already tonight. I can’t help you.’

  He hopped closer to her. ‘Henry cannot love you or be with you as he is cursed with me, you see. He is cursed with an eternal sadness that coils his heart for me, so being with anyone else would be torture for him as he could never put them before me.’

  She sat back down and wiped her eyes. ‘Oh, it makes sense.’ She looked down at the grass and then at the palace. ‘No wonder he left so suddenly. I was hoping he and I could be together. I know it’s quick, and I am usually cautious, and yes, he is a dwarf, but I get this sense of beautiful kindness from him. He’s different, and he liked me for me, without even knowing I was a princess. It would be good for Snow to have a father figure. Do you think he feels the same?’

  Edward waited patiently and hid his irritability. She could talk for Northmanni. ‘Yes, he does.’

  ‘He told you this?’ she asked, her cheeks flaring pink.

  ‘Yes,’ he snapped. ‘Anyway, he wouldn’t ask you to do such a thing, but I would. Kiss me, break my curse. I turn back into a prince, his sadness is broken, and bam, you two can go on your merry way,’ he said and watched as she pondered the thought.

  She looked down at him suspiciously. ‘Why wouldn’t he ask if it’s only a kiss?’

  He hopped onto her hand. ‘Because his sadness prevents him. He wants only a true love to kiss me … old-fashioned type. I’m happy to find someone when I am a man.’

  She smiled. ‘Just one kiss?’

  He nodded. ‘Just a peck, really.’

  She bent over and just as her lips touched his, a loud scream shattered the silence. Henry ran at them from the edge of the palace gardens. The princess shrunk into a frog and hopped around aimlessly. Just before Henry got to them, Edward stomped on her, leaving her splattered remains across the grass. Henry felt the sadness around his heart shatter, leaving him free of Edward. However, a new emotion replaced it; anger.

  Inside the palace, the duke wrapped his arm around her and placed his hand on her back then twirled her around. The duke was ten years her senior, but it didn’t matter when you were royal or noble. ‘Beautiful party,’ the duke said as they danced. He smiled, showing off his dazzling white teeth. His eyes were bluer than the royal drapes and lips were paler than Snow’s skin. Still, he was a handsome man and seemed nice enough.

  Snow caught her grandparents’ gazes and smiled at them. The music faded and her grandfather, the king, stepped out, looking over the balcony. ‘I want to thank everyone for coming to our kingdom on this most gracious evening to celebrate the fifteenth birthday of my granddaughter, Princess Snow.’

  Snow beamed at him. He looked down at her with doting eyes. ‘Happy birthday, sweetheart. You’ll be a fine queen one day.’

  The last part cut through her. Queen. The duke took her hand and kneeled onto the marble floor. ‘Snow, happy birthday. When you turn sixteen, I would find it most gracious if you would accept a marriage proposal from myself.’

  Unorthodox, indeed. Dukes didn’t propose so personally. Snow half-smiled. ‘If the king wishes it, then I will graciously accept.’

  The duke nodded, seeming pleased with the offer. Everyone in the room clapped and returned to dancing and stroking each other’s egos; the two things they did best.

  Snow watched as everyone poured out of the room, leaving behind a trail of half-eaten food, streamers lying on the floor, and half empty champagne glasses littering the long tables. ‘Where is my mother?’ she asked one of the guards who was making sure everyone was leaving the palace. Snow heard a fight break out outside the doors of the palace. Clearly, some men had drunk far too much.

  ‘She was last seen in the gardens.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  Snow walked out of the room with grace, thanking people as she left and offering a smile to the king and queen. As soon as she was out of sight, she ran to find her mother. Her white dress flew out behind her as she pattered down the dark corridors until she reached the back doors. Opening them, she furrowed her brows at the strange sight.

  A flash of magic danced in the air—leftover from some curse. Snow looked around but couldn’t see her mother anywhere.

  ‘Mama?’ she called out.

  Snow walked down the hill and stepped on something slimy. ‘Eww, what the …’ She inspected it. It was a frog, a dead frog. ‘Did I kill you? I …’ She noticed her mother’s necklace next to the frog, and the frog’s eyes were exactly the same colour as her mother’s …

  Snow gasped.

  The magic must have been from a curse that had turned her into a frog, which means …

  She must have killed her own mother.

  ENCHANTRESS

  Edward reappeared in the kingdom of Milborn, where Gertrude had told him he could find more magic when they had made their first deal. He’d heard of the Castle of Hearts before. Apparently, it was hidden in the confines of Milborn forest, surrounded by enchanted gates, tall trees, brambles, and snowy mountains. There, he heard, lived an enchantress who took care of the castle.

  The villagers looked at him cautiously. The town had an air of mystery hanging over the small market stalls and wooden shops. A man fell out of a tavern across the road. He stumbled down the steps, followed by the door slamming shut behind him, with a lot of insults being shouted as the door shut. The man tried to throw his bottle at the tavern door but missed by at least four feet. ‘Idiots,’ the man grumbled and walked down the path, swaying from one side to the other, almost getting knocked over. ‘If they knew what I’m capable of! Who I am!’

  ‘Sir,’ Edward called. The drunk man looked back and waved his hand dismissively. Edward ran across the road. ‘Sorry to bother you,’ Edward said to the man who had now turned, looking annoyed.

  ‘Do you know where I can find a horse? I need to venture into the enchanted woods, up to the mountains.’

  The man laughed wheezily. ‘You’ll die in there. You’re mental!’

  Edward bit the inside of his lip and forced a half-smile. ‘Can you help me or not, sir?’

  The man sighed and started walking away. He looked back at Edward. ‘Come on then!’

  Edward smiled genuinely and ran after the man. He followed him for two miles. Silence hung between them. The drunk man was taller than Edward and twice as wide. He was handsome, though, and his muscles looked like they would rip his tight t-shirt at any second. Edward looked around at the run-down houses surrounding the winding path they were walking. Snowflakes began to fall, floating down from the white sky and landing on Edward’s dark hair and the drunken man’s black hair, which was tied in a little ponytail at the back of his head. ‘Why do you want to go into the forest?’

  Edward noticed that there was a slight feminine edge to the man’s voice. ‘Um,’ Edward hesitated. ‘It’s complicated. I need something from a castle in there.’

  The man gasped. ‘You’re going to the castle? Impossible! Do you know how many times I’ve tried to get into that castle?’ The man looked down at Edward and smirked. ‘If I couldn’t, you won’t be able to!’

  ‘You underestimate me.’ Edward smirked back.

  They reached the edge of the woods. ‘If you make it in there,’ the man said, ‘you must promise to share your riches with me.’

  ‘Why would I promise that?’

  ‘Because,’ the man looked at Edward with menacing eyes, ‘I won’t tell you where it is. Promise you will share your fate with me with a magic bond.’

  Edward raised an eyebrow. ‘You possess magic?’

  ‘No,’ he admitted. ‘But you do.’

  Begrudgingly, Edward made a magical pact with the man then took the directions to the castle. The man waved as Edward walked into the forest. The snow was falling harder, and soon, it was up to his ankles. He looked at the lucid snowflakes with annoyance. It was blistering cold, and the castle w
as still nowhere to be seen.

  Hours passed as Edward ventured deeper into the depths of the never-ending forest. The blistering wind swept over his face. Edward tried to block the heavy snowfall with his hands. He tried using magic to reach the castle. He did not care about his limited amount of magic as he feared for his life. Yet no matter how hard he tried, he didn’t transport. The further he went into the forest, the more his magic seemed unreachable.

  The forest was a winter wasteland, even the trees looked like they had died a long, long time ago and were preserved by nothing more than a memory. The wind hurt his ears as it howled louder than any wolves could. Close to giving up, he fell to his knees. His hands fell into the inches of snow, and thorns rose from the ground, reaching into the sky to form a wall. Tears froze almost instantly on his cheek.

  ‘Please,’ he begged. ‘Please let me in.’ He could sense the magic pulsating from behind the thorny wall. ‘I need magic.’

  On the word magic, the thorns sunk rapidly back into the ground, and a gothic castle appeared, surrounded by meadows of frosty grass. It stood hauntingly against the grey, stormy sky. Several broad towers dominated the skyline, forming a protective barrier around the castle. Two semi-circle staircases mirrored each other. They wound their way up to the gated entrance. In front of the staircases stood a fountain which Edward imagined would have looked glorious in its prime. The weathered, grey fountain now matched the rest of the castle. Edward walked up the steps, and the snowflakes drifted down, landing around him. He reached the heavy, wooden doors that arched into a point.

  The gate was up, its fatal spikes pointing down at Edward as a warning. The black metal knocker was the snarling face of a beast. Edward knocked once, but the door creaked open, pushing against the skeletons of leaves that littered the cold ground.

  His steps echoed eerily on the white marble floor. Stone arches lined either side of him, leading off into other rooms and corridors. Cream-coloured stone pillars stood central to the room, branching off into ivory beams on the curved ceiling. He walked past the arches, each darker than the previous. He couldn’t shake the unnerving feeling of being watched. The castle was quiet; too quiet.