I decided that heading toward the kitchens probably was the safest bet. Surely the stables were nearby. That seemed to make sense in my head. So I crept along the hallways, keeping near the wall. Only a few sconces stayed lit overnight, so it was pretty dark, and the shadows were, well, creepy. I kept stopping to look behind me, I could have sworn I was being followed. But every time I looked, all I saw were the dancing shadows from the wall sconces. Trying really hard not to think about Freddy Krueger and every other horror flick psycho, I continued on. Why, oh why, did Anne ever make me watch those! And I was trying even harder not to think about the threatening notes still tucked in my pocket like a dead weight. Did I say dead? OK, I do not recommend creeping around a dimly lighted castle at night with a wild imagination. What the heck was I thinking!
I could smell the kitchens before I reached them, like a warm yeasty bread smell that made my stomach growl once again. Whoa, I pressed on my stomach to stop the noise. It was so loud I was sure someone could hear it. I stopped and hid next to a tapestry on the wall, listening. I could heard voices coming from beyond, inside the kitchens. Guess someone was always working in the kitchens of a castle this size. There was a door just to the right of the main kitchen, one that looked like it might lead outside. At least, there were boots and jackets hanging near it, so I guessed it had to be the one to the kitchen gardens.
I scooted along the wall, careful not to make noise that might be heard in the kitchens. The glow from the big fireplace spilled out into the hallway. I kept a hand on my stomach, willing it to be quiet.I managed to get to the door and creep outside it. I had to get my bearings in the darkness. Yep, this looked like a garden. Now to get through it without stepping on anything important. I could hear the soft neighing of horses off to the right, so I tiptoed that way. The what-the-heck-was-I-doing-out-here-in-the-middle-of-the-night thought did cross my mind a few more times, but I tried not to dwell on it too much. Suddenly, I was right in front of the stables, but I didn’t see anyone about. I’d never really ventured to the stables before, and had no idea how many horses were in there, or whether there were stable boys that slept somewhere nearby. I probably should have figured that all out beforehand, right? Shaking my head at my lack of forethought, I tentatively called out.
“Hello?”
“You’re late,” replied a voice right behind me. I nearly jumped out of my skin! Again. Geez, why does he always do that! I spun around, arm up, ready to defend myself if need be, but the prince caught my arm neatly and somehow in the same movement pulled me near him.
“Shhhh,” he warned, placing a finger over my mouth, gesturing toward the horses. “We do not want to spook the horses.”
“Well then,” I whispered back, “you shouldn’t be sneaking up on a person in the dark!” I tried pulling my arm free to step back from him. I’ll admit, being this close really did unnerve me. What was I thinking coming out here to meet him? He held firm, and leaned in to whisper in my ear.
“Follow me,” he said, sliding his hand down my arm to take my hand in his. Then he led me to the other side of stable where a horse stood saddled. I looked at the horse and thought, oh dear. Horses and big dresses with petticoats don’t mix. But before I could shy away, he scooped me up, and plopped me on the horse so I was sitting side-saddle. And then he was behind me in the saddle before I could blink. OK then. As I tried to settle myself a little more comfortably, he pulled me closer to him, one arm firmly around my waist.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Where are we going?” I’m afraid I squeaked, then tried to school my voice as if it were totally normal to be sitting atop a horse with a prince’s arm around me. Yep, totally normal.
“You will see. Just lean against me and hold on.”
I did as he said, even though I was sure it was anything but proper for this time period. As always, curiosity got the better of me, and soon we were flying through the night. I couldn’t help feeling a sense of freedom being truly away from the castle for the first time since I’d found myself in this place. I felt the wind against my face, whipping through my hair. I wanted to hold my arms out and sing to the starry sky above; although I thought better of that as I was sure to lose my balance. I tried not to be aware of the prince’s heart beating in time with my own. I tried not to enjoy the warmth of his arm wrapped around me. And I tried really hard not to love the way it felt leaning up against him. I tried, I really did. And failed miserably. In the distance, outlined by the moon, I could see what looked like some sort of building.
“Is that where we’re going?” I turned my head back to ask, just as he began to slow the horse to a walk.
“Yes,” he replied, looking down at me. “I think you will like it. It is one of my favorite places.” As we got closer, I could see it wasn’t a building at all, but ruins of one that used to stand in its place. Stone walls rose up ahead of us. I could make out pointed arches where windows would have been. Vines climbed the walls and threatened to take them over. It was beautiful, washed in the light of the night sky. We stopped nearby. The prince jumped down off the horse and loosely tied him to a tree. Then he turned and raised his arms toward me.
“Ready?” he asked. Oh gosh, my heart really needed to stop doing that flip-floppy thing. But I nodded and seemed to slide right down into his arms.
“Thank you,” I said, hoping he couldn’t see me blush in the dark. For once, I thanked the 16th-century Gods for all these skirts I could fuss with when I was feeling nervous. I fluffed them out, then reached up to brush the hair out of my face. The prince stopped me and brushed it away himself.
“It’s beautiful when it’s unbound,” he declared.
“You mean it’s a mess,” I retorted, trying to lighten the mood. “So, um, what is this place?” I asked, looking around, telling myself to act natural–again, like it was totally normal for a prince to compliment me. Yeah, that happens all the time. Every day in fact. Mmm-hmm.
“You’ll see,” he replied. “Wait right there.” Thank goodness he couldn’t read my mind like a vampire or something, I thought as I watched him go to the back of the horse and rummage through the saddlebags. He took one off and threw it over his shoulder, across his chest. Then he came back and took my hand.
“Follow close behind me so you don’t trip,” he instructed, as we walked toward the ruins.
“This was once a church,” he began softly, telling me the history of the place as we picked through fallen stone and overgrown bushes. “Years ago, before I was born, the roof, which was made of straw, was struck by lightning and burned down to the stone walls. It was deemed an accident and was rebuilt. But then it was struck a second time, and burned again. People became suspicious, some said it shouldn’t be rebuilt. Others said it was built on unhallowed ground. Then there were others who said it was cursed.” We had come to part of the building that was still intact; a tower, with a winding stone staircase. Starting up them carefully, making sure I was OK behind him, he continued the story.
“Of course, the Priest refused to believe the stories, and demanded that it be rebuilt once again. And so it was. But no one would enter the church, for fear of being damned like the building itself. The Priest called them all foolish, and to prove that it was not cursed, he vowed that he would stand inside the church through all the storms that came, and keep the church safe. And he did. Storm after storm came, and the church stood strong. Lightning struck, but not near the church. Little by little, the faith of the people returned, and they dared enter the building once again. Some say the Priest began to boast that his faith alone kept the building safe. He began to think he himself was more powerful than his God. And the tithes that the townspeople gave to the Priest, he began to keep for himself, adorning his person with jewels and fine cloth for his robes; demanding only the best crops be served to him, and meat from the best cows.”
We had climbed to the top of the tower. Big stone arches remained, but the roof was gone along with the bell it used to cover, leaving it ope
n to the sky. The stone all around was overgrown with a soft green moss that sparkled in the starlight. The prince let go of my hand and opened the bag he had thrown over his shoulder. He pulled out a blanket, and spread it out on the stone, motioning me to sit.
“What happened next?” I asked as I sat arranging my skirts around me, impatient to hear the rest. I shivered in the breeze. It was cooler up here at the top of the bell tower. The prince shrugged off his jacket and wrapped it around my shoulders.
“Better?” he asked. I nodded, anxious for him to continue. I watched him walk to one of the arches, overlooking the land below. The view was breathtaking, even from where I sat.
“Well,” he continued, “what do you think? Of course, another storm came. The most violent storm the people could ever remember. Gardens were washed away. Houses were pummeled with the force of the rain. Livestock went missing, washed away in the floods that came. And the lightning. It danced in the sky as never before, causing the earth to shake with each boom of thunder that followed it. Some say they saw the Priest, crazed with his own power. He stood right here, on the bell tower, raised his arms to the sky, yelled into the storm, and dared it to try to take his church again, to defy him. Then sure enough, out of the sky came a bolt of light quick as the crack of a whip. It struck the Priest. He fell to his death off the tower, and the church burned down to the stones once again, never to be rebuilt.” I shivered again, but not from the chilly air.
“What a horrible story!” I exclaimed. “Do you believe it?” He came and sat across from me then.
“I am not sure what to believe exactly, but I have always loved this place. It seems peaceful to me. Maybe it is enchanted. It feels that way sometimes.” I took a deep breath, and breathed in the place. I closed my eyes and felt the spirit of it. It seemed to hum.
“I think you’re right.” I looked at him then. “I don’t feel like it’s haunted, more like it’s at peace with itself. Thank you for sharing this place with me.” He smiled, and reached into his bag once again. He pulled out a loaf of bread, cheese, and dried meats. My stomach growled, rather loudly.
“I noticed you skipped supper. I thought you might be a little hungry,” he chuckled at the sound my stomach made. “Did I guess right, then?” he asked, handing me a hunk of bread with some cheese.
“You have no idea. Right now, you’re a prince in shining armor. Thank you!” I exclaimed, closing my eyes as I took a bite of the delicious buttery cheese and fresh bread. “I can’t remember the last time I ate. I seemed to fall asleep before I could even dress for dinner.” He smiled and poured me a cup of watered-down ale, so very popular in the 16th century. I leaned against the wall behind me and looked up at the stars.
“This must be one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever seen,” I sighed, content just listening to the wind rustle through the leaves around the building, so in tune with the hum of the building itself. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been so happy.
“This may seem a little presumptuous…,” the prince broke into my happy thoughts.
“What?” I asked looking at him curiously. The light of the moon cast one side of his face in shadow. I watched as he reached into his bag again. I couldn’t imagine what else he could have fit in that thing. It must have been magical like Mary Poppins’ carpetbag because the next thing I knew, he pulled out the small lute, holding it out to me like a supplication.
“Would you sing something? Just…,” he broke off and looked down, as if he were afraid to ask, “Just for me?” I leaned forward, and took the instrument from his hands. How could I refuse? It was the least I could do to thank him for bringing me here.
I plucked at the strings, taking my time tuning each one. The air around us seemed charged, like the humming of the ruins kicked up a notch in anticipation. I could have sworn the humming was in the key of G! Then I looked up at the prince, and began strumming the first song that came to mind. For the first time in my life, I felt as though the words were written for me, for him, for right now sitting in the ruins of a bell tower under the stars, in 16th-century France. It was a fairytale about a princess being rescued by a prince. She thought she was a mess; he thought she was pretty. It spoke of the magic that encircled them when they were together, how time seemed to slow or stop, or not matter at all.
Gently, he took the lute from my hands and laid it down on the blanket, then pulled me up to stand in front of him. His jacket slipped off my shoulders and fell to the ground. He tucked my hair behind my ear and took my face in his hands, tipping it up to meet his. His lips touched mine and sent what felt like a bolt of lightning down to the very tips of my toes, electrifying my entire body. We both jolted with the sensation, and I knew he felt it too. He pulled away and looked at me with wonder in his eyes. I could stand it no longer–I had to touch his face. The dark stubble on his cheek felt soft and rough at the same time. He closed his eyes and turned to kiss my palm. Then I led his face back down to mine–the pull was so strong–and returned the kiss, sliding my hand to the back of his neck, pressing him closer. It felt as if time did stand still; I wanted time to stop. He pulled away, placed a kiss on my forehead, and leaned his head against mine. Our hearts beat wildly. Each of us tried to catch our breath.
“Yes, I can feel it. This magic,” he whispered, “It started the day you appeared.” And then we began to sway in a dance, the tune still swirling around us. So I continued to sing with my head against his shoulder; this moment right here its own fairytale. I actually might have just fallen in love when I saw him standing here on this tower with the moonlight shining behind him. His smile warming my heart.
Around and around we swayed, surrounded by ancient stones that seemed to hum to our tune and leaves that rustled back and forth to our rhythm. I looked up to see each star twinkle in time, their magic sprinkling down on us. I took his hand and tucked it next to my own heart. Could he feel how fast it was beating? Looking at his face, I quietly sang the last chorus.
We stayed in each other’s arms while the last note floated off into the magical air. I swore to myself that if I ever got back to the 21st century I would find Taylor Swift myself and thank her for writing “Today Was a Fairytale” for me and my prince. He leaned his forehead against mine once more and sighed. We both seemed at a loss for words.
“Charles,” he whispered. “Please, call me Charles.”
“Charles,” I said. And his lips were on mine once again, more urgent this time. I felt just as urgent. His hands were in my hair, mine in his. Then all of a sudden he pulled away and walked to the other side of the tower.
“I can’t…,” he started. He shookg his head and looked at me, then turned away again and walked back. “You…,” he tried again.
“I know,” I sighed. “I wasn’t supposed to be part of your fairytale.”
“No,“ he said, then shook his head. “Yes! Yes you were. Are!” He grabbed my hands in his and stood before me once more. He looked down at me, his eyes so earnest in the moonlight. “I’ve never felt this,”–he gestured toward his heart–”this connection. This...this...I don’t even know what this is. It is new, and I am afraid.” I took my hand from his and laid it on his cheek again. He laid his over mine.
“I am afraid that I will wake up tomorrow and think it was a dream,” he continued. “Or wake to the nightmare of knowing that what I now know I want more than anything I cannot have. Because of duty. For the first time in my life, I do not want to be a prince.”
“But you are, and you must be,” I reminded him. Who knew how much longer I would be there? Was it selfish of me to want this too? Would he even believe me if I told him where I really came from? Would he still want me? Ahhhh, all these questions. Honestly, did they have to be answered all in one night?
“Can we just…,” I started, taking his hand again and looking up into his eyes, “...just take this slowly? See where it leads? And not think about tomorrow or the next day?” He smiled, and nodded his head.
“Yes. Let u
s not think about tomorrow. Except,” he said, looking up at the sky, “tomorrow will be here soon if we don’t start back.” I sighed, not wanting to let this magical night end. “You’re right, we’d better head back,” I nodded reluctantly.
He gathered everything up and put it all back in his bag, then secured it over his shoulder again and pulled one more thing from it. “I almost forgot,” he said, holding up his hand. I looked at what he was holding out to me and started to laugh.
“A cream pastry! How did you know I love these?”
“You could say I have noticed a few things.”
“Hmph,” I mumbled, secretly smiling as I bit into the flaky pastry. I offered him a bite too. And we stood smiling at one another, probably looking completely goofy. Then we were off down the tower, and out to his waiting horse once more. I couldn’t help letting out another sigh as he untied the horse and rearranged the saddlebag.
“What are you thinking?” he asked.
“How much I love this place,” I replied simply. He helped me up onto the horse again. When he hopped on behind me, I snuggled into him, feeling content. He turned the horse around and placed a kiss on the top of my head.
“I’m glad,” he smiled, as he held me tightly against him and we raced through the night back toward the castle.
As we crested the last hill, we saw an ominous glow and heard the horses braying in alarm. Charles hunched forward and I instinctively held on tighter as we rode faster, barreling down the hill. He jumped from the horse and tied it to a tree, still a distance from the castle. As helped me down, he looked me in the eye.
“Run,” he urged. “Run inside and find help!” I turned toward the castle without looking back, knowing that he would do all in his power to lead the animals to safety. I only prayed that he, too, would be safe.
Because somehow, the stables were ablaze with fire.
Chapter 14
The time I’d had with Charles was like a dream, a true fairytale night. But I had to push that to the back of my mind as I ran through the garden door and to the kitchens, knowing there would be people on hand there.
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