Maelyn (The Nine Princesses Novellas Book 1)

by Anita Valle

  “No. Uncle Jarrod gets the Lumen wine. And that’s an order,” said Maelyn. “My last order.”

  Chapter 22

  Maelyn remembered the first time she ever saw the castle. She was sitting on Father’s horse, riding up the hill with him. “There it is, little pet.” He pointed over her head. “Your new home.”

  To Maelyn’s young mind it was a giant cottage made of rocks. So gray. So hard. So many windows. Her gaze climbed a tower to a red flag that flapped against the sky. The image seared on her memory, and she never thought of her first day home without remembering that flapping flag, red against blue.

  Today the flag hung limp on its pole, as if it, too, mourned her departure. Maelyn watched it from the carriage until the soaring trees of Lumen Forest wrapped their shadows around them. Uncle Jarrod chuckled. “It really is a tiny castle.”

  Maelyn shut her eyes. She was facing a three-day journey spent solely in her uncle’s company. A ride in the Carnivorous Carriage sounded more inviting.

  They sat in opposite corners on blue velvet seats. The sallow servant perched outside, commanding a team of black horses. Maelyn couldn’t visualize the new life waiting to meet her at the end of the road. She hadn’t asked Uncle Jarrod when she would meet Prince Murdel because none of this felt real. It was a journey to nowhere with nothing at the end.

  At least Uncle Jarrod was enjoying the Lumen wine. He was into his third goblet before they even reached Merridell, the first town below the castle. “Marvelous wine!” Uncle Jarrod cried. “Can’t believe I never tried it.”

  “It’s extremely rare,” said Maelyn, disgusted at how her uncle could absorb enough wine to flood a river without becoming unsteady or thick-tongued. The ride would be much more bearable if he drank himself into a stupor.

  The carriage crawled through streets hugged by merchant’s shops and peppered with men and women in vibrant cloaks. Most of the nobility lived in Merridell. Maelyn watched them absently, a light breeze tossing the loose wisps around her hairline.

  Uncle Jarrod filled his goblet from a small barrel on the floor and held it toward her. “Have some.”

  Maelyn took a small sip and understood why the wine cost so much. Rich flavor, subtly sweet, with a gentle tingling that felt pleasant on her tongue. “It’s lovely,” she said, handing back the goblet.

  “Holy Noses, it’s hot in here,” said Uncle Jarrod, unhooking his cloak. Maelyn didn’t feel so, but then she wasn’t three feet wide.

  They reached the open fields and farmland that lay between Merridell and the next town of Creaklee. Maelyn pulled The Devious Damsel from a satchel at her side, bent on finishing the last few pages. She ignored the familiar landscape until a strange flashing pulled her eyes to the window.

  “Lumen Lake?” Maelyn stared at the glittering water on her left, hemmed by ancient willows that hunched over the bank like gossiping hags. “Your servant is going the wrong way! We’re supposed to turn right at the fork after Merridell and take the road toward the mountains.”

  “Don’t worry,” Uncle Jarrod said calmly.

  “Don’t worry? We’ll never reach Grunwold going this way!”

  Uncle Jarrod sipped his Lumen wine. “Perhaps we’re not going to Grunwold.”

  Maelyn frowned. “Well, Dorf then. We still need the mountain road.”

  Uncle Jarrod leaned forward, a smile deepening the creases around his eyes. “Prince Murdel… is married.”

  Maelyn sat rigid as a cavalry of emotions charged through her. Shock, intense relief, momentary euphoria, utter bewilderment, and then finally, fear. “M-married?”

  “Almost a year now,” said Uncle Jarrod.

  The carriage lurched at a dip in the road and Maelyn caught the wall to steady herself. Uncle Jarrod watched with obvious enjoyment of her confusion. After a minute, she folded her hands in her lap and spoke calmly. “Where are you taking me, Uncle?”

  Uncle Jarrod’s smile hardened. “Home.”

  “Home?”

  “Yes,” said Uncle Jarrod. “Home.”

  Now she understood. But she didn’t believe him. Could he actually mean…?

  “My - my village,” said Maelyn. “Where I was born.”

  Chapter 23

  Once, during a local tournament, Maelyn watched as a galloping knight struck his opponent with a blunt lance, catching him squarely in the chest. The opponent was punched straight off his horse and landed solidly on his back, legs in the air.

  She now understood what he felt.

  “It’s where you belong,” said Uncle Jarrod. “You are not a real princess.”

  Maelyn gazed at him, too numb for tears.

  Uncle Jarrod grimaced and dabbed his temples with a handkerchief. “When my brother revealed that he intended to raise nine orphans as his ‘daughters’, I was outraged. This meant any ragamuffin could walk into a castle and think himself royalty. It weakens the class structure our world stands upon. I ordered my brother to return the runts to their respective kingdoms. He refused.”

  Uncle Jarrod paused to rub his eyes irritably. “I could have forced him. Or sent my assassins to take care of the little imposters. I considered it.” He chuckled at Maelyn’s horrified expression. “But I possessed a weakness in those days. Runa.”

  Maelyn flinched. “Mother?”

  “When I met Runa she was already promised to my brother. And I had a wife of my own. There was nothing I could do. But she became the only person in the world whose happiness mattered more than my own. And she, regretfully, was happy to raise nine foundlings as her own children.”

  Maelyn folded her arms. “But she’s gone now. And Father too. So you plan to reverse the… mistake… they made.”

  “At first you may find it difficult,” said Uncle Jarrod. “Perhaps it was good practice, these months you’ve lived without servants. It prepared you for the… humbler life you’ll live in the village. But don’t worry. I’ll see that you have a comfortable cottage. And decent employment.”

  “Will I still be a princess?” Maelyn asked.

  Uncle Jarrod closed his eyes as though praying for patience. “You never were a princess, my dear.” His eyes remained shut and he rubbed them with his fingers.

  Maelyn’s numbness was slowly hardening into rage, cold as steel. “What about my sisters? Will they be returned to their birth kingdoms as well?”

  Uncle Jarrod merely smiled and sipped his wine.

  “We’ll come back.” Maelyn raised her brow rebelliously. “All it takes is a carriage ride.”

  “No, I wouldn’t recommend that,” said Uncle Jarrod. “I highly suspect that the practice of fraudulent royalty will be outlawed by the new king.”

  “The new king!” Maelyn gasped. “Who?”

  “Gah, what’s wrong with my eyes!” Uncle Jarrod clenched his teeth and rubbed furiously. His forehead shimmered with sweat.

  Maelyn’s eyes widened. “Uncle Jarrod… your face is turning red. Very red.”

  “Tell that wastrel to stop the carriage!” Uncle Jarrod roared. “I can’t breathe in this heat!”

  Maelyn yelled out the window and the carriage halted on the open meadow. Uncle Jarrod staggered out and collapsed on the grass, leaning against the carriage wheel. He panted hard and his eyes had swollen into slits.

  The servant jumped down from the driver’s seat and gaped at Uncle Jarrod’s russet complexion. “Holy Ankles!” the servant shrieked. “It’s – it’s Red Fever!”

  Chapter 24

  “What?” Uncle Jarrod yelled. “Are you sure?”

  The servant nodded, his eyes bulging. Maelyn knelt next to her uncle and pressed her hand to his cheek. She pulled it away. “I – I’m so sorry, Uncle.”

  Uncle Jarrod’s breath came in short gasps. “How – how long do I…?”

  Maelyn shook her head. “Usually… a day.”

  “I have to get home!” Uncle Jarrod’s arms flailed. “My apothecaries-”

  “You won’t make it, Sire!” The servant clapped both hands on hi
s head. “It’s three days to Grunwold!”

  Maelyn clasped Uncle Jarrod’s hand in both her own. “Listen to me, Uncle. I have something with me. A medicine that may… weaken the fever. Give you enough time to reach your apothecaries.”

  “Get it! Now!” Uncle Jarrod roared.

  Maelyn’s tone hardened. “I have a price.”

  Uncle Jarrod stopped thrashing. “A price?” he asked, managing to look shrewd even through bloated features.

  “You will crown me queen of Runa in my twentieth year,” said Maelyn. “You will swear to this, in writing, and place your seal.”

  “I’ll die first!” Uncle Jarrod barked.

  Maelyn smiled. “Yes. You will.”

  “Gah, it burns!” Uncle Jarrod ground his fists in his eyes, kneading savagely. The swelling had now spread to his already-thick fingers. The servant flapped his cap up and down in a useless attempt to fan the king.

  “G-get me some parchment,” Uncle Jarrod rasped. “Before I can’t write!”

  Maelyn stood up. “You,” she addressed the servant. “Fetch parchment and ink from my trunk. Then find the king’s seal and melt the wax. Quickly!”

  “Where is the medicine?” King Jarrod gasped.

  “You’ll have it when you’ve signed the document,” said Maelyn.

  The servant brought a length of parchment, ink, and a quill. The king wrote with a trembling hand. “I – I can’t understand… how I caught it.”

  Maelyn shook her head. “No one knows what brings the Fever. My messenger died of it only days ago.” She stood over the king as he signed and pressed his seal. When he handed her the document, she reached inside the satchel that still hung from her shoulder and withdrew a vial of golden-brown liquid.

  “Thank you, Uncle,” said Maelyn as the servant wrenched the king to his feet. “I suggest you hurry home.”

  Uncle Jarrod needed no encouragement. He snatched the vial and heaved into the carriage, barking orders at his servant. Maelyn waited until the carriage became a small fleck on the distant hill. Then she collapsed in the grass, laughing long and hard.

  Chapter 25

  It was late afternoon when Maelyn sauntered into the throne room. The long walk home had not tired her. She had taken her time, enjoying the sights of her kingdom as she never had before.

  As usual, the knights swarmed about Coralina’s throne like a plague of beetles. The raucous laughter fell silent when Maelyn drew near.

  Coralina stood up. “Maelyn!”

  Maelyn held up the document. “I’m afraid Uncle Jarrod had a change of heart. I am the next queen of Runa Realm after all.” She smiled at the dumbstruck knights. “You may leave now.”

  It didn’t take long. A few doubtful faces. A few scornful glares. Then the knights tramped a disgruntled path out the door, leaving Maelyn alone with Coralina.

  Coralina flicked her scepter onto the throne and flounced down the steps. “Tired of this anyway. At least now I won’t deal with the stuffy ambassadors.” She stalked to a side door but Maelyn reached out and brushed her arm. “Wait, Coco.”

  “What?” Coralina snapped.

  “I want to talk to you.” Maelyn gestured to a window niche wide enough for sitting. Coralina’s eyes narrowed but she followed Maelyn to the other end of the room.

  “Did you murder Uncle Jarrod?” Coralina flopped into the seat and leaned her shoulder on the stained glass window.

  “It looks as if he has Red Fever,” said Maelyn. Coralina gasped sharply and covered her mouth. Maelyn laughed. “But he doesn’t.”

  Coralina looked bewildered. “What?”

  “Do you remember the first time Father tasted Lumen wine?” Maelyn asked.

  Coralina began to shake her head, but then her expression cleared. “Yes! He got horribly ill!”

  “His face became dark red and swollen,” said Maelyn. “Mother panicked, thinking it was Red Fever, until someone told her the Fever never causes swelling. Father was well again in two days.”

  “But Mother drank the wine too,” said Coralina. Maelyn nodded. “Only Father was affected. Somehow, Lumen fruit is bad for him.”

  “And that’s what happened to Uncle Jarrod?” Coralina asked.

  “He’s Father’s brother,” said Maelyn. “I was hoping the wine would have the same effect.”

  Coralina’s purple eyes grew wide. “You planned this?”

  Maelyn laughed. “More like I tried this. When Heidel mentioned the Lumen wine, I remembered Father’s reaction. And I suspected Uncle Jarrod had never tasted it. I didn’t know if he’d become ill, but I planned how I would act if he did.” She told Coralina about the vial of ‘medicine’ she’d used to barter for her crown. “I made it in the kitchen last night! A mixture of goat milk, molasses, and dried mustard!”

  Coralina was laughing now. “You sold him a bottle of fake medicine to cure a disease he doesn’t have! Why Maelyn, that’s – that’s devious!”

  Maelyn grinned. “I’m a devious damsel.” And suddenly she thought of Willow.

  “But Uncle Jarrod will soon realize he was tricked,” said Coralina. “He’ll be mad. Possibly execution-mad!”

  “He might.” Maelyn shrugged. “Or he’ll think he’s one of the few people who survived Red Fever and brag to the world about it.”

  Coralina laughed. “That sounds like him! But he’ll still be furious about the document. He didn’t want you to be queen.”

  Maelyn smiled. “He’ll find it much harder to stop me now. I’ll see to that.”

  Coralina’s eyes fell to her shimmering skirt. “Mae… I’m glad.”

  “Glad?”

  Coralina looked up again. “I’m glad you’re not leaving.”

  Tears stung Maelyn’s eyes. “I’m glad too.” She reached out and the two hugged each other tightly. Coralina smelled faintly of rose water and fresh linen. Comforting, familiar smells that told Maelyn just how much she loved her home and her family.

  When they pulled apart, Coralina folded her arms and smirked. “Now. There’s something I want you to tell me. So long as we’re friends for a few minutes.”

  Maelyn laughed. “All right.”

  Coralina’s finely etched features became solemn. “Maelyn, why did you dismiss our servants?”

  Maelyn lost her smile. She turned to the stained glass window. “I – I didn’t.”

  “What?” said Coralina.

  Maelyn rested her head against the colored panes of glass. “I didn’t dismiss the servants. They left.”

  Chapter 26

  “It was a month after Father’s death,” said Maelyn. “I couldn’t sleep so I read a book through the night. Just before dawn, I heard rustling outside my window - thought it might be a bear. But when I looked out… I saw them! Our maids, our guards, our ladies-in-waiting - all of them! Carrying satchels and trunks, rushing into the forest like runaway thieves.” Her face pinched as memory revived the pain of that morning. “I didn’t have to ask why. Father was gone. They would no longer serve us, the ‘false princesses.’ ”

  “I don’t believe it,” Coralina snapped. “Joc wouldn’t have abandoned us. Or Tessie. Or Nira! They’ve been with us since we were babies!”

  Maelyn shook her head. “I saw them!” She watched the weight of betrayal seep into Coralina’s eyes. “So I did the only thing I could think of. As the last one entered the forest, I whispered, ‘I dismiss you, all of you, as traitors to the crown. You are no longer worthy to serve the nine princesses of Runa Realm. I banish you from this kingdom for the remainder of your lives.” She shut her eyes before tears could escape. “And then I told everyone I had dismissed the servants myself. I couldn’t bear anyone to know….”

  Coralina drew a shaky breath. “Well,” she said, her voice a note too high, “we have to prove them wrong, don’t we? Did they think we’d perish without them? That we can’t take care of ourselves?”

  Maelyn rubbed her nose. “But none of you seem to enjoy caring for yourselves.”

  Coralina sm
irked. “Because we didn’t know why.” She took hold of Maelyn’s shoulders. “Very well. So a bunch of cloddy peasants thought they could destroy us. Us! The nine princesses who survived a horrible plague when the whole world was dying! We can do anything!”

  Maelyn laughed. “If you’re behind me, Coco, I know we can.”

  Coralina arched her eyebrows. “Well, not too far behind. I am second eldest.” She grinned.

  The door creaked open and Arialain peaked inside the throne room. “Pardon me, Maelyn.” Her face still held the glum defeat it had since Maelyn’s return. “Someone is here to see you.”

  “Willow?” Maelyn asked quickly. Coralina gave her a curious look.

  Arialain shook her head. “The Book Miser.”

  Chapter 27

  Maelyn climbed the four marble steps, hooked the ivory cape around her shoulders, and sat in her throne. It felt wonderful.

  “Show him in, Ari.”

  The Book Miser was not impressive to look at. Stooped, wrinkled, knobby. Wiry black hair over a face furrowed by sneer lines. His tunic and hose, though well made, hung loose and faded from too much wear. He clasped a heavy book in his gnarled fingers and offered no bow.

  Maelyn lifted her chin. “Good day, Sir.”

  “G’day,” said the miser. He had a voice like dead branches scraping together.

  “You haven’t come to the castle in many years,” said Maelyn.

  “Six,” said the miser, “since I left your father’s service.”

  Maelyn nodded. “What brings you, then? It must be urgent if you came all this way yourself.”

  The miser scowled, shifting his weight from one twiggy leg to the other. “I want the book the fellow brought.”

  “The fellow?” said Maelyn. “You mean Willow? My messenger?”

  “I mean The Carnivorous Carriage.” The miser never wasted his words. “Didn’t want it before but I do now. Someone offered a good price for it.”