The Escape of Princess Madeline

by Kirstin Pulioff

  “You know this is not fair.” As her agitation spread across her face, his smile grew.

  “Aw, Madeline, don’t get mad. You know this is how it goes.”

  “It shouldn’t have to. I should have every right to live my life, like you, or Sophia, or anyone else in this kingdom.”

  Sophia’s smile disappeared. “Not everyone has the choices that you think they do. You should be happy about all the men you’ll get to choose from. Not all of us get what we want.” Her voice held an edge.

  Madeline looked at them, flustered. This wasn’t going the way she intended. “Sophia, I need your help. I can’t go through with this.”

  “It’s your duty.” Sophia said. “You must.”

  “You can’t be serious,” she said, searching her friend’s face for a hint of support. “You’ve always helped me.”

  “I know, but…” Sophia’s voice trailed off, and her eyes refocused on Braden. “Some things change.”

  Looking at Sophia and her brother, she realized her two dearest friends wouldn’t help. She didn’t even bother saying goodbye to them; they were already back doing what she had interrupted.

  Madeline climbed the stairs back to her room and slammed the door shut. She threw her pillows against the far wall until a small garden of roses and pastels grew up to the window. She fumed for a few minutes before deciding on a plan.

  Maybe they were right. It was her duty to be at the ball tonight, but that didn’t mean she had to cooperate with the marriage.

  “Time to get ready,” she said, taking one last look at herself in the mirror.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Sunsets in Soron were a sight to see. The way the colors ignited the sky, reds, oranges, and yellows, made it look as if the sunlight melted into darkness. Beauty reflected off the clouds, amplifying every color. At sunset, King Theodore planned for that warmth and beauty to set fire to the ballroom.

  A row of knights lined the castle walls, shining beneath the torches, directing visitors to the grand ballroom. The richness and prestige of the kingdom surrounded their path. Golden banners marked with the red dragon of Soron soared overhead. A slow melody filled the background as guests arrived.

  Decorated to match the sunset, the ballroom shimmered with red and orange banners. A soft breeze floated through the room, rustling the flags, making the colors dance. Yellow and white roses decorated the tables, invigorating the senses as their sweet aroma floated through the air.

  King Theodore walked about the ballroom, appraising the gathering crowd. Royalty from the north and prominent merchants from the west and south intermixed with his villagers. The room overflowed with possibilities.

  Nodding to several people, he pressed his way through the thickening crowd on his way to the front stairs. His smile grew in anticipation. Surely one of these men would win over his daughter.

  He raised his glass of wine above his head and addressed his guests.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you all for coming this evening.” He cleared his throat and looked around. “I know you have traveled a great distance, and I assure you, it was worth it.” A light chuckle broke out as he continued.

  “It is my great pleasure to welcome you to the Kingdom of Soron, and to this royal ball celebrating Princess Madeline’s birthday and betrothal. As a child, she dreamed of adventure. Alas, ruling a kingdom does not allow much time for adventures. So, I must entrust that to one of you. Tonight, it’s my hope that someone will win her heart. That one of you will join the Kingdom of Soron for a prosperous future, provide for my daughter, and give her the adventure she has dreamed of.”

  He watched the eligible men crowd at the base of the stairs, waiting for her entrance. Their etiquette disappeared as they strove for the first advantage, fighting amongst themselves for a better position.

  King Theodore raised his hand for silence.

  “It is my pleasure to introduce my daughter, the rose of our valley, the fire in our sunsets, our beautiful Princess Madeline.” The crowd roared as they waited for her entrance. Trumpets burst into action with an escalating fanfare.

  Bringing his glass to his lips, he savored the sweet taste. His eyes twinkled with hope.

  ***

  Butterflies stampeded around in her stomach as Madeline paced the hallway. Proper entrance protocol required that she wait until the formal introductions ended. Until then, she had no choice but to worry behind a velvet curtain about her father’s intentions.

  One of her father’s personal attendants guarded her path. She knew this by the royal crest, a golden dragon, sewn onto the steward’s tunic. He had never sent one of his personal attendants before. She wondered about the extra security, until she remembered their earlier argument. A smile flickered on her lips. Maybe he had reason to be concerned about her behavior.

  “It’s almost time, Princess,” the steward said, giving her a smile.

  She returned his smile with one of her rehearsed ones, hiding her fears behind a wall of formality.

  The trumpets sounded and, slowly, the man pulled the curtain to the side, creating a small path for her. It was time. She ran the back of her hands across her forehead and fluffed her hair before walking through.

  The curtain swished behind her, closing the path and the quickest route back to her chambers. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

  “I can do this,” she said to herself. “This is no different than every other year. Father wouldn’t make me marry someone I didn’t know.”

  A trace of doubt lingered beneath her smile as she turned the final corner. She smiled amidst the resounding cheers but felt their silent scrutiny. Every person watched, appraising her smallest step.

  The cool handrail of the marble staircase took her back to her first royal ball. As a small girl of only five, the first time she walked down the long staircase, she could hardly reach the handrail and her chin quivered to the point of tears. Over the years, new feelings surfaced, turning the quivering chin into a smile. For one moment, on that staircase, she felt unmatched. In her slow descent, nothing took precedence over her in her father’s eyes.

  This year, she didn’t want that attention. She wanted nothing more than to run back up the stairs and hide in her room like a little girl. Like at that first ball, a fear of the unknown weighed her down.

  When she cleared the stairs, a throng of people collapsed in on her. Ogling eyes raked over her and presumptive hands grabbed her arms. Her heart pounded as her personal space disappeared.

  “There will be time for everyone,” her father laughed, taking his position at her side. “There’s no need to crowd. Princess Madeline is excited to meet you all.”

  Her father’s reassurance warmed her, until she looked up and saw his expression. To the unstudied eye, her father looked composed. But she knew the truth. Years of provoking him and dealing with the aftermath had made her an expert at discerning his emotions from the fine lines of his face. A furrowed brow for worry and concern, a twinkle in his eyes and slightly flared nostrils for happiness, and, most important, the flinty stare and the smile with only one dimple for the moments that he couldn’t express his rage.

  In that moment, when her eyes connected with her father’s, she saw his unbalanced smile. She had changed into a new gown. It was still beautiful, just different from his expectation. The ivory dress featured delicate rose accents and velvet trim. Its contrasting colors looked striking against her pale skin and dark hair. Curled and pinned on top of her head, her hairdo allowed a few loose strands to cascade down her back and frame her face. Her eyes twinkled with the secret disobedience.

  Triumph washed over her, and she met his strong gaze with her own.

  “Father,” she said with a deep curtsey. Holding her pose, she waited for him to take her hand.

  “Good evening, Princess,” he said as he reached forward.

  Any advantage she felt disappeared. His dimple disappeared under a smirk, and she knew he had a new plan.

  King Theodore le
d her to the center of the ballroom. The crowd looked on, oblivious to the tension between them. Plastered smiles stayed on their faces as they prepared for the dance. A smooth, almost hypnotic melody started and they raised their arms over their heads for the first pose.

  Traditionally shared between the king and queen, the first dance marked a special moment for Madeline and her father. At her first royal ball, to stop her quivering chin and keep the tears from falling down her face, King Theodore had wrapped her in his arms and danced.

  The tradition had continued, although tonight their dance was spoiled under the duplicity of formality for the guests and the intensity of her defiance.

  “I don’t understand why you’re doing this, Madeline.” Her father commented as she twirled under his arm. “I was very specific about that dress this morning. This one is beautiful, but it is not what I wanted.”

  Madeline forced her smile a bit more and looked down. “Really?” she asked innocently. “I thought this was perfect for the evening. This is my best color and will bring me a higher bidding price.” She rolled her eyes as she moved behind her father’s back.

  The melody continued, its emotive beauty lost on them both. King Theodore twirled her in the detailed steps of the dance.

  “This is no way,” he started, “for you to behave.” Twirl and bow. “Or appear.” Step, step, and bend. “That dress was important to me; you should be wearing it.” Twirl, side step, twirl. The tempo increased, matching the speed of the quips in their argument.

  “Father, don’t be silly,” she said, slightly out of breath. “It’s just a dress. I can wear it next time, in a few years, when I’m ready to be married.”

  “That’s not up for discussion. It’s part of your duties,” he countered. “Changing a dress will not change my mind.”

  “I will not sit down and let you decide whom I marry and what I wear.” Her jaw hurt from clenching. “This is my life.” She twirled with a grand flourish and curtsied toward her father. “This is my choice.” Feeling all eyes on her, she blushed under the scrutiny of her admirers and the cold glare of her father.

  The crowd clapped as the dance ended and a new one began. Many couples joined the dance floor, and Madeline fled to the far end of the ballroom.

  Looking over her shoulder, she saw a group of men encircle her father. A mixture of relief and dread rolled over her. She had escaped for a moment, but she knew the evening was just beginning. Searching the crowd, she hoped to find Sophia, but her eyes got lost in a sea of colors as people danced to the music.

  Madeline walked around, taking inventory. The dim light hid the faces in the overcrowded hall. She saw some familiar people—princes, kings, and other royalty that had done business with their kingdom. Older and grayer than before, but a welcome sight in a hall filled with unfamiliar faces. Every way she turned, a bevy of strangers smiled at her.

  She stopped against the back wall to catch her breath. The constant winks unsettled her. Knowing smiles seemed to lurk beneath their gazes. Her face reddened with humiliation, anger, and something else she couldn’t place. Not wanting to dwell on that feeling, she looked for a way out.

  Guards stood on either side of the entrance doors. Stiff armor gleamed in the candlelight. There was no way out but the way she’d entered. The grand staircase hid behind a throng of suitors.

  She relaxed when a familiar face met her gaze. Walking toward her, the Duchess of Mallory held her arms open.

  “Princess Madeline,” the woman said, embracing her warmly. “What a wonderful ball.”

  “Thank you for coming this evening,” she smiled back, formality surfacing out of reflex. “What a beautiful gown,” she said, admiring it. Black velvet draped the older woman’s curves, and diamond accents flashed in the dim light. The glimmer reminded her of the golden embroidery on her new green gown. The gown lying in a heap on the floor of her room.

  Under the Duchess of Mallory’s silver-streaked hair, rosy cheeks and a genuine smile welcomed her. The duchess was the same age her mother would have been. She exuded warmth, and Madeline sank into her arms gratefully.

  “Oh, this old gown, you are such a dear,” the duchess laughed heartily, leaning in to speak above the music. “I remember my sweet sixteenth. Ah, it seems just like yesterday.” A content smile played on her lips.

  “It must have been wonderful,” Madeline encouraged her.

  “Oh, it was…”

  Madeline smiled and waited for more, but the duchess didn’t continue. Worried she might lose her attention, Madeline tried again. “What happened at yours?”

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” the duchess apologized, patting her chest. “I sometimes get lost in my own place.” She continued when Madeline smiled. “At my sweet sixteen, I met my beloved Thomas.” She winked at her. “This is a great opportunity.”

  Madeline cringed. The duchess looked her over appraisingly. Her gaze was almost worse than the looks the men had given her.

  “I haven’t seen you in this dress before,” she said, patting her on the shoulder. “You’re beautiful, just like your mother.”

  Madeline unconsciously ran her fingers over the ruffled roses on her dress, hoping her face wasn’t nearly as red as it felt. “Thank you,” she murmured, keeping her eyes lowered. Leaning into the older woman, Madeline looked up, sincerity in her eyes. “You knew Lord Thomas before you married, though—you loved him, right?”

  “Well,” the duchess whispered back, “you never really know someone until you marry them. Thomas and I were introduced that night, arrangements were made, and we fell in love after we were married.” Her gaze drifted off in a memory and refocused across the room, on King Theodore.

  “I see your father coming. With a prince,” she added. “I will leave you for a short while. Have fun!” She smiled and walked off, leaving Madeline alone.

  Madeline turned around, facing the wall, hoping that if she couldn’t see them, then they couldn’t see her. She cringed and forced a smile when she felt a tap on her shoulder.

  “Princess Madeline,” her father announced. “Please meet our neighbor to the north, Prince Alleg.”

  She almost laughed when she saw the man standing beside her father. Her eyes grew with disbelief as she counted the deep lines crossing his face. The years in the harsh sun had not been kind to the prince. This had to be a joke on her father’s part. He couldn’t possibly want her wed to a man older than himself.

  “Prince Alleg, it’s nice to meet you.” She hid her disdain in a curtsey. “On a clear day, I can see the Dragon’s Gate arch from our library. Is it as beautiful in person as it is from afar?”

  “It is beautiful, but not nearly as beautiful as you.” His dry lips scraped over her hands as he lifted them in a kiss. “I would be honored to show you it one day. The beauty of the north is different than here in the inland. There is much to enjoy—exotic spices, rare jewels, rich weavers...” His words trailed off.

  King Theodore excused himself as the prince continued.

  She pleaded with her eyes, but he ignored her. A small smirk played on his lips. She sighed as he disappeared into the crowd.

  Madeline managed a small smile for the prince. A gnawing pain grew in her stomach as she listened to the man, heard the implication of his words. The idea of becoming his wife nauseated her.

  Prince Alleg continued speaking, walking her toward the secluded shadows of the room. Her heart pounded as his grip tightened on her elbow.

  “We mustn’t leave the ball,” she panicked, trying to pull him back to the light.

  His eyes stared, piercing through her dress. “I thought maybe some privacy would be in order to discuss our wedding.” His eyes quickly rolled back over her.

  His boldness shocked her. Her heart beat wildly as she scanned the room for help. Now that she wanted eyes on her, she found none. Draping her right hand over her forehead, she feigned weakness.

  “I need a moment, sir,” she said, fanning herself with both hands to add space between them. She di
dn’t doubt the pink tone of her face; outrage alone darkened it. “Sir, we must discuss this matter later. I am feeling too faint at the moment.” Madeline fluttered her eyelashes for added effect. “I will be back shortly,” she said, walking away from him. She had no intention of returning.

  The moment of relief didn’t last long. Before she got the chance to hide from any new suitors, she saw her father’s crimson robe. He approached with a new man cloaked in black. Behind them, she saw the Duchess of Mallory watching with curiosity.

  Madeline tried to walk by, but the king grabbed her arm and made her stay.

  “Princess Madeline, I wanted to introduce you to a new visitor to the kingdom. This is Prince Paulsen from Morengo, on the southern edges by the sea. He has traveled the farthest to meet you and was hoping for a dance.” Her father winked at her and motioned to the band to start a new song.

  Prince Paulsen laughed and bowed deep. “Your father seems a bit enthusiastic this evening.” Deep blue eyes twinkled at her above a mesmerizing smile.

  “That is certainly one word for it,” she agreed. He was just a few years older than herself, and she relaxed in his company. Prince Paulsen carried himself with the confidence of a noble: calm, poised, and charming.

  “Father said this is your first time here in our kingdom. How do you like it so far?”

  “Each moment is better than the last.” His words lingered in her ears, and she forgot her reservations.

  Time slipped away as they danced. She floated along to the music, guided by Prince Paulsen’s lead and strong arms. Behind his shoulder, the Duchess of Mallory watched with a smile, nodding her approval. Prince Paulsen must have passed her test.

  Her approval reminded Madeline of the principle of the matter. Her smile faded. Handsome or not, she refused to give in to her father’s demands.

  “I’m sorry, I really must go,” she said, stopping mid-step.

  “Go?” he questioned, looking around. “But we’re in the middle of a dance.”

  “I know, but I’m not feeling well.”