Transcender Trilogy Complete Box Set

by Vicky Savage

  “That’s all you get is an hour?” I say, petting Ethel’s fuzzy head.

  “Yes. I have my studies,” she says wistfully. Her face quickly brightens. “Maybe now Father won’t make me study so hard, since I’m no longer to be Queen.”

  “You sound happy about that.”

  “Oh yes. Very happy. I do not wish to be Queen. It seems to be a dreadful job. Father said he would do most of the work, but I would still have to live at the palace and be the figurehead, whatever that means.”

  “Don’t you like living here?” I prop some pillows against the headboard and scoot back against them.

  She sighs. “It’s nice, but I miss my mother and my animals. I have a horse named Dido and two goats and dozens of cats.”

  Father told me that Aunt Judith had refused to move into the palace and was still back in Hempstead caring for the family farm.

  Maria pokes her head around my door. “There you are, Princess Osrielle. It’s time to dress for dinner. You are wanted in your room.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” Oz says. “I’ll just take the Skorplings back to the nursery first.”

  Maria looks at me. “It’s time for you to dress also, Princess. May I help you?”

  “Sure. Thanks Maria.”

  Oz gathers Fred in her arms, and I kiss his downy forehead. She reaches for Ethel.

  “No, no, no!” Ethel squeals, locking her arms around my neck. “Ethel not go. Ethel stay here.”

  I pull Ethel’s arms apart and hold her in front of me so I can see her face. “What’s wrong? I’m home now. I have to go to dinner, but we’ll play in the morning. I promise.”

  “No, Jay. Please. Ethel stay here.” She makes the little mewling sounds again, and it tears me up inside. “All right, you two can stay the night with me,” I say. “But you’d better be good. Don’t break anything while I’m at dinner.”

  The corners of Ethel’s diminutive mouth turn up. “Jay nice,” she says and rewards me with a small kiss on the cheek.

  “I’ll stay with them while you are gone if you like,” Maria says. “We had better get you dressed quickly, though. I believe Prince Andrew has already arrived.”

  “Drew’s here?” I can’t wait to see him and meet his new bride. Maria sits Ethel on a chair in front of the mirror, and gives her some strands of beads to play with. Fred is happily hiding under the covers of my bed. Maria works her magic on me—selecting a dress from the princess’s impressive collection, styling my hair, and helping me choose my jewelry.

  “There,” she says, dabbing some gloss on my lips, “you look beautiful. Go and have a good time. I’ll take care of things here.”

  When I reach the family dining room, Father and Ralston are deep in conversation with Drew and a pretty strawberry-blonde whom I assume is Adelais. Drew looks surprisingly princely in his black formal suit, despite the fact that his tawny curls are meticulously disheveled as always. He holds the hand of his new bride, eyes shining with pride and contentment each time he glances her way.

  I run to Drew and embrace him heartily. He lifts me up and swings me around, even though I’m nearly an inch taller than he is. “There you are, Sister,” Drew says with a laugh. “I knew we hadn’t seen the last of you. You’d never go that quietly.” Setting me down, he kisses my cheek. “Good to have you home.”

  He turns to his bride. “This is my wife, Adelais,” he says, as if not quite believing it himself. Adelais curtseys daintily. Her skin is white as porcelain, and her periwinkle blue eyes sparkle as she slips her small hand inside Drew’s. She appears far too prim to be married to my goofy brother, but they seem happy. Maybe he’s cleaned up his act, or maybe she has a hidden spunky side.

  I ask Adelais about her recent relocation from Dome Noir, and she tells me how happy she and her family were to be allowed to leave the troubled country. I’m about to query her for details when Uncle Harold enters the room with Mother on his arm. General LeGare and Osrielle follow behind them. Mother looks amazingly well. In fact, if I hadn’t seen her in bed this afternoon, I wouldn’t believe she was near death. She wears a gold satin gown, a striking emerald necklace and a jeweled tiara. She says, “Good evening,” to the assembled group, and Uncle Harold guides her to her chair at the head of the table.

  Mother motions me to take my usual seat to her right. Uncle Harold graciously holds my chair for me. I have the vague impression that I’m displacing him at Mother’s side. He probably sat here in my absence. But he takes a seat next to Osrielle at the opposite end of the table and appears to be in high spirits. Sitting in close proximity to Mother, it is apparent that an expert makeup job is mostly responsible for her healthy appearance. Her eyes seem slightly sunken, her hands sallow and frail.

  Waiters efficiently pour champagne into our crystal flutes, and Uncle Harold taps the side of his glass with his spoon for silence. Standing, he says, “Her Majesty wishes to propose a toast.”

  Mother remains seated, but lifts her glass. “We are blessed with a miracle this evening. Our Jaden is with us again.” She looks lovingly at me. “All of Domerica rejoices at the safe return of the crown princess. There is much catching up to do,” she says with a smile, “and another wedding to plan. Welcome home, dear.”

  A chorus of “Hear, hear,” erupts from the table, as glasses are raised and clinked together.

  “To Princess Jaden,” Uncle Harold says enthusiastically.

  Mother signals for dinner to begin, and giant shrimp cocktails are set before each guest. I wonder where the shrimp came from. Ralston told me all ocean life was destroyed when the comet hit. They must have found a way to farm them inland.

  Drew, seated to my right, leans in and asks, “Where is your betrothed by the way? I expected to see him tonight.”

  Focusing intently on my plate, I cut off the tail of a shrimp. “He had some business to attend to. He’ll be here in a day or two.”

  Drew places his hand on my arm. “Jade?” he says, arching his eyebrows in question. I never could fool him.

  I shake my head slightly. “Not here,” I whisper.

  Tactfully, he changes the subject. “I suppose Mother told you Adelais and I are in residence at Meadowood. You should know that I’m looking to purchase an estate in the south near Somerset. We shall return Meadowood to you as soon as I can finalize the deal. You won’t even know we’d ever been there.”

  “Drew, no. I’m glad you’re there. I don’t want you to leave. Meadowood is yours now. I don’t need it.”

  He cuts his eyes to Mother for a moment and whispers, “Of course you wish to be with Mother for her final days, and you and Blackthorn will live in the palace afterward, but what will you do for a getaway? You’ll need a place in the country to refresh when you feel as if you’re about to have a breakdown. With Uncle Harold around, that may be a regular occurrence.”

  I laugh. “I’m not planning to have a breakdown anytime soon. But, if I feel like I need to get away, I assume you and Adelais will put me up for a while.”

  His eyes widen. “Well, you know what they say about houseguests and fish?”

  “Yeah, yeah, they both start to smell after three days.” Ha ha.

  Dinner is nine courses of culinary delights, and I sense Mother becoming more and more fatigued as the evening wears on. By the time dessert arrives, she appears exhausted. I place my hand over hers. “Mother, I’m very tired. Would you mind if I skipped dessert?” I ask.

  “Of course not, dear. You may retire now if you wish.”

  “Would you like to leave now also?” I ask. “I’ll walk you to your room. I’m sure no one will mind.”

  She seems hesitant and then relieved. “Actually, that would be wonderful. I’m ready to retire myself.”

  She rises from her seat. Everyone else at the table makes to stand also, but she stops them with a raised hand. “Please, keep your seats. Jaden and I will not be joining you for dessert and coffee. Thank you all for being here. Please enjoy the remainder of the evening.”

 
; I accompany Mother to her room. Several of her ladies-in-waiting escort her inside, and immediately begin taking down her hair and helping her undress. I know she’ll be well looked-after, so I make my way to my own room, remembering with an internal groan that I consented to a sleepover with Fred and Ethel. It’s okay, though. It’ll be nice to have some furry little friends to cuddle with. It may help keep my mind off of Ryder and where he is tonight.

  When I reach my room, the Skorplings are already fast asleep, curled up on my pillows. Maria says they were little angels. They had their dinner, and wore themselves out playing. I thank Maria for babysitting and wish her goodnight. It’s wonderful to shed my evening dress and heels. I wish dinners at the palace weren’t always so formal. Slipping between the cool sheets, careful not to disturb my bedmates, I whisper a small prayer into the ether that I’ll be able to sleep tonight instead of tossing and turning over my faithless boyfriend. Surprisingly I drift off easily.

  Fred is the first one to wake. He scales the headboard and quietly twiddles with a strand of my hair. I open my eyes to find Ethel lying next to me on the pillow watching me intently. She reaches out a tiny hand to touch my cheek. “Morning Jay,” she says in her melodious voice.

  “Good morning, Ethel. Fred, stop that!” He’s twisted a chunk of my hair around a spindle in the head board and is yanking it hard.

  Somehow I manage to get my tresses unwound with most of the strands still intact. Fred scampers off to wreak havoc elsewhere. Rolling out of bed, I contemplate my schedule for the day. The first order of business is to get these rascals back to their own room. I wash up and brush the tangles from my hair, anchoring it in place with a woven gold headband. Freshly-pressed riding clothes and spotlessly-polished boots are waiting for me in my closet Ah, the life of a pampered princess.

  Taking a Skorpling in each arm, we set off for the nursery. As we approach the door, though, Fred becomes agitated, and Ethel locks her arms around my neck again. “No, Jay. No,” she says.

  “What’s wrong with you two? Hold still, Fred.” I open the door to their room, and my heart falls through the floor. Their beds and toys have been cleared out, and a giant, gold-plated cage sits in the middle of the room. Unbelievable.

  Stepping into the hallway, I shout, “What is this?” Two maids and a butler scurry down the hall to me.

  “Princess, what’s wrong?” the young man asks alarmed.

  “This is freakin’ outrageous. What is this cage doing in the nursery?”

  “Prince Harold had it made especially for the Skorplings,” he says. “They’re not allowed to be loose inside the palace.”

  “I want it out of there now,” I roar, causing the three of them to shrink back. “Here, hold them for me.” Each maid takes a Skorpling.

  The nearest outside door leads to the tranquility garden. Flinging it open, I spot two groundskeepers in green uniforms weeding and raking the area. “You two,” I shout. “Come with me.” They drop their tools at once and follow me inside.

  “Get this cage out of here. I want it destroyed. Chop it up, melt it down, toss it into the river. I don’t care what you do as long as it’s completely demolished. Not a trace remaining. Understand?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” they say in unison. They quickly drag the cage out the door and into the courtyard.

  Retrieving Fred and Ethel from the arms of the maids, I hold them closely. “Have their beds and toys replaced immediately,” I order. “Put it back just the way it was. Exactly the way it was before I left. The Skorplings will be in my room until that’s done.”

  Stomping down the hallway, back to the family quarters, I can’t remember ever being so pissed. What kind of jerk would imprison these thinking, feeling, loving little primates in a cage? It’s despicable.

  “I’m sorry guys,” I tell my two buddies, kissing them both. “I promise I’ll make this all better.” Depositing Fred and Ethel on my bed, I tell them, “You two be good. Someone will bring you breakfast.”

  Fred jumps up and down. “Muffin. Muffin. Muffin.”

  “All right you can have muffins. Just don’t get crumbs in my bed.”

  Hurrying to the kitchen, I put in an order for the Skorplings’ breakfast. “Thanks, Cook,” I tell the loveable old curmudgeon who runs the kitchen. “Have Maria take it up to them. I need to check on my horse.” If Uncle Harold has caged up Fred and Ethel, there’s no telling what he’s done to my horse.

  The palace stables are nearly as nice as the palace itself, with sweeping white arches, stone floors and polished mahogany walls. A stable-boy bows as I stride through the main door. “May I help you, ma’am?” he asks.

  “Where’s Gabriel, the black Arabian?” I crane my neck looking for him in one of the stalls.

  “Down at the end.” He nods to the right. “The young lady is already with him.”

  “Thanks.” I make my way to the stall at the end, and I’m surprised to find Oz there placidly brushing Gabriel’s sleek coat. A purring gray cat rubs against her ankles as she works.

  “Hey, Oz. What’s up?”

  She smiles and comes to hug me. “Cousin. Good morning. I always come out here early, before my studies. I love being with the animals. Your horse is my favorite.”

  Gabriel swings his noble head around to gaze at me. My heart rejoices to see him again. Running my hand along his shiny coat, I breathe in the familiar smell of hay and horseflesh. Taking his chin in my hand, I kiss his velvety nose. He snorts his appreciation. Ew. It’s a little wet, but I love it.

  “You look good, boy,” I tell him, combing my fingers through his mane, and examining the spot where the fire left a red and wrinkled patch of burned skin.

  “It doesn’t seem to bother him much anymore,” Oz says. “Mr. Barksdale still puts ointment on it every day. He says the hair may grow back in another year or so.”

  Good old Barksdale, the crusty old head stableman. These horses are his kids.

  Oz seems more like her usual self this morning in a pair of baggy old pants and a shirt that looks like it belongs to one of the stable hands. I cock my head to the side. “Hey, I’m thinking about going for a ride. I’ve missed my old friend here. You want to come with me?”

  Her eyes grow bright with excitement, then dim just as quickly. “That would be lovely,” she says, “but Father would never allow it. I can’t be late for lessons. Actually, I’d better go now and change. Perhaps we can ride some other time.”

  “Sure. Study hard,” I say, smoothing my hand over her flyaway hair. “See you later.”

  She hangs the horse brush on a peg and dashes for the door.

  “Guess it’s just you and me, handsome,” I say, taking Gabriel’s bridle from the wall.

  ELEVEN

  It’s a joy to be reunited with my horse. In looks and stature, he’s noble and proud. He also possesses a huge heart and a talent for speed. I loosen the reins to give him his head, and he gallops with gusto. We reach the upper grounds in no time flat, and then slow to a relaxing trot. Everything looks pretty much the same as it did when I was here last, wide open meadows, thick piney forests, fields of grazing fargen—the super shaggy, super smelly beasts that provide most of the wool for Domerican fabrics. The peace and beauty of this place has wormed its way into my soul, and I have a weird sense of belonging here, even though it’s only my adopted home.

  I’m renewed and refreshed after my ride. Leaving Gabriel in the care of the stable boys, I head to the main dining room for lunch. A casual but bountiful buffet has been set out for the many palace residents and visitors. I wave to Father and Ralston, who are seated together at a small table near a window. As I make my selections from the many tempting dishes, Uncle Harold enters the room and walks purposefully in my direction. My cheeks grow hot as he approaches. I’d hoped I wouldn’t run into him until my anger had subsided a little more. If he scolds me for destroying his gilded cage, I swear I’ll take his head off right here in the dining room.

  Harold bows deeply in front of me. “
Princess Jaden, I wish to apologize to you. I understand you were distressed to find the Skorplings were being housed in a cage. I assure you that step was taken only for their protection. They are appealing, affectionate creatures, and it is tempting to treat them as something more than that. But ultimately they are feral animals. It’s in their nature to attempt to escape back into the wild. Considering their enormous value, I felt it prudent to ensure that would not happen.”

  I barely control the urge to flip mashed potatoes in his face. “Listen Harold, I get it that you were trying to keep them safe, but Fred and Ethel have lived in the palace for eight years now. They’re used to the freedom of their nursery, not a cage. You may not believe it, but they do have feelings. They were very upset. I don’t like to see them hurt like that.”