Both princes had agreed that after two instances of violence, regardless of its direction, they didn’t want their young sister sleeping alone. It had been Celine herself who insisted that she would much prefer me to any maid.
Some light was already seeping into the tent, so I sat up and resumed work on the dress I had been adjusting the day before. The fashion of the jungle-dwellers, or junglers as they called themselves, had changed little since I had been here over four years ago, but it differed significantly from the styles popular in the capital. With any luck our visit to the jungle would be short, and I would only need to modify a handful of outfits for the three royals.
I had almost finished my current project when Celine awoke.
“There’s so much moisture in the air, I feel like I’m swimming instead of walking,” she said, as she slipped into the light dress I had already adjusted for her. Sheer sleeves protected her arms, and her skirts were as light as modesty would allow. “Thank goodness I brought you along, I would look like a fool wearing my normal gowns next to all these junglers.”
We walked together to breakfast which was served, like all the other meals, in a large communal hut without walls. The locals had initially offered for the royals to eat in one of their few fully-enclosed huts, but Frederic had elected to join the rest of the village and Tour for the communal meals, as all junglers did regardless of rank. Celine loved the look of the treetop houses preferred by most of the locals, but I was glad to be sleeping in a tent and eating on the ground.
I had arrived in the jungle, traumatized and alone, at twelve years old. My new foster siblings commemorated the occasion by holding me over the edge of their home until I broke down and cried. In my two years living in a treetop home I had overcome my subsequent fear of heights, but that didn’t mean I ever wished to climb up to such a dwelling again.
“I would love to live in such a place,” said Celine as we ate, having no idea of the source of my distaste. She scrunched up her face. “Well, without all these bugs, and as long as it wasn’t so hot.”
“So, in other words, not in the jungle,” said Frederic, joining us. “How undiplomatic of you.”
Celine merely rolled her eyes and kept eating.
“Don’t worry,” I said dryly. “You won’t convince a jungler there’s anything wrong with their beautiful jungle. Any criticism will be taken merely as a sign of the poor breeding of the speaker.”
“Excellent,” said Frederic, “how reassuring.”
The twinkle in his eyes made me nearly choke on my starfruit. I had come to the conclusion that he had more of a sense of humor than I had first suspected, I just needed to learn when his serious voice hid a less-than-serious sentiment. Celine had assured me he was just like their mother in that regard.
“Don’t worry,” she’d told me earlier, “you get used to it.”
Much to my relief, she apparently hadn’t noticed I was fast becoming a lot more than just used to it—at least in Frederic’s case.
“It’s not as if I hate the jungle, or anything,” Celine told us as she peeled a banana. “Just look at all this fresh fruit. And the colors are indescribable. I think I saw a flower as big as my head back there.”
“Just be careful,” I said. “You’d be surprised how many things are poisonous here.”
“Poisonous?” Her eyes grew large and thoughtful.
Frederic was watching her with misgiving. “Don’t get yourself poisoned, Leeny.”
“I’m not a child, Frederic.”
“I know.”
Several locals joined us. “How is the food?” one asked, and we all heaped praises on the fare. Even I had to admit that I had missed the fruit and some of the spices used in the local dishes.
“Oh, yes,” one assured us, “our bananas are far superior to the western ones. Our rissoles, as well. You’ll see this evening.”
I hid a smile. I had lived in one of the western villages and heard for two years about how greatly superior the western fruit and cooking was to the eastern. Junglers had no time to worry about outsiders when they had such an intense rivalry going on among themselves.
The villagers had arranged a series of exhibitions for the Tour, including archery, climbing, and an intense game called Kurau which was played high in the trees using vines and a small, solid leather ball. Just watching the game, which had been much beloved by my jungler foster siblings, was enough to make me queasy, so I wandered away.
Following a natural trail through the trees, I found a passion fruit vine and stopped to admire the incredible purple flowers. They had always been my favorite, and I had incorporated aspects of their design into many of my creations.
Steps behind me made me flinch and spin around. Frederic appeared around a tree and froze.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”
I shook my head. “I’m all right.”
“That’s a beautiful flower,” he said.
I smiled. “Yes, it’s my favorite.”
He shifted uncomfortably. “It probably isn’t a good idea for any of us to be wandering off on our own.” He must have seen the change in my face because he added, swiftly, “For our own protection.”
I took a slow breath. “You don’t need to worry about me.” He could have no way of knowing that I had spent as much of my two years here alone in the jungle as I possibly could.
“You’re familiar with the jungle, then?” He looked half concerned, half curious.
I licked my lips nervously and tried not to notice the way his eyes dropped to my lips and then quickly away. I would have preferred not to talk about my time among the junglers.
“I spent two years here,” I said at last. “Before Catalie.”
“You’ve lived in the jungle as well as the islands?” He seemed to weigh me with his eyes, and it took all my self-control not to squirm.
“I’ve lived in many places.”
“Evidently.”
A moment of quiet passed between us, as I plucked one of the flowers and spun it in my hand. Perhaps I was wrong. Perhaps it would help to unburden myself of the pain of the past.
“When I was twelve, I was taken in by a kind jungler woman, who found me on the eastern edge of the jungle.”
“Ah, one of the easterners,” he said with a rare smile, clearly attempting to lighten the air between us.
“Indeed,” I said. “You may or may not be surprised to learn they are almost exactly like the westerners.”
“How disappointing. I had conceived a strong desire to meet them and now fear I will find myself greatly disappointed.”
I smiled back at him, surprising myself with an unexpected buoyancy. I had never found anyone so easy to talk to as I did this prince, whose conversation should have been forbidden me given my background.
“I confess I can taste no difference in the bananas,” I admitted with a small smile of my own. But when I thought of my next words, it dropped away.
“Unfortunately my foster mother had not consulted her own children when she acquired a new one. They saw me as competition for her love, and the more kindness she lavished on me, the crueler they became. I came to dread her smiles and warm words.”
I looked away. “And for all I tried, I could not fit in here. I was perpetually viewed as an outsider. No amount of work or knowledge made any of them see me as a true jungler. Perhaps I am a coward. But after two years, I simply could not bear it any longer. I left the jungle, intending to slowly work my way north toward Lanare. That’s when the viscount happened upon me.”
“Rejected in two homes,” said Frederic. “Evie, I cannot imagine…” He stepped toward me, and my breath hitched in my throat. The sounds of the jungle seemed to go quiet around us, and this time it was me who could not tear my eyes from his lips. Neither of us moved to touch the other, but we stood a single breath apart. If I leaned forward, I would be in his arms.
Heat raced over me as my mind scrambled unsuccessfully to retrieve the thread of our conver
sation.
“Evie,” he said again, so quietly I could barely hear the word despite our nearness. The sound of it broke my heart.
“Evie, I…”
For a desperate moment, I thought he would close the distance between us and press his lips against mine, but instead he stepped abruptly backward, gave me a small bow and retreated the way he had come.
I stood alone and reeling, heat and cold chasing each other around my body. What had just happened? What had I done?
But I already knew what I had done. For all the warnings I had given myself, for all I had tried to hold back, I had become too entangled with the royals. And while it was their rejection I had feared, it was something far worse that had happened. I had fallen in love with the crown prince of Lanover. A person who would never in a hundred years consider wedding an orphan who could not find even a small corner of his vast kingdom that would accept her.
I wandered for hours without paying attention to my surroundings, only returning for the evening meal. Why was I always unable to play the appropriate role for my surroundings? I could not be a good islander, a good jungler, a good trader, even a good daughter. And now I could not be a good seamstress, one who knew her place and kept to it. No wonder I had never been accepted anywhere.
Celine took one look at my no doubt pale face and dragged me to bed early.
“Frederic mentioned you once lived here,” she said once we were safely inside our tent. “Which made me realize how wise I was to recruit you for my secret mission. It seems you’ve been everywhere and know everyone.”
I stared at her in confusion until horrified understanding broke over me. I could not talk to her of potential brides for Frederic on this of all days.
“Oh, no, I lived on the other side of the jungle,” I said. “I know no one here.”
She waved my words away. “But you know junglers. Have you spotted any likely candidates?”
She sat on her temporary bed and gave me her full attention. I collapsed on my pallet, feeling suddenly shaky.
“I…I can’t…say that I have.” My dry mouth made the words stick in my throat.
She narrowed her eyes. “Whatever is the matter, Evie?”
When I said nothing, she got up and came to sit beside me. “Whatever it is, you can tell me. Is it something to do with Frederic? I saw him follow you into the jungle, and he came back out looking as if he had stumbled on a python.”
I flushed. What did that mean? Had he been horrified by what nearly happened between us?
Celine chuckled. “And now you look just the same. What? Did he try to kiss you or something?” She chortled again while I froze.
Her laugh slowly died away, and her eyes grew larger and larger.
“He did! Oh my goodness! He tried to kiss you! Or, wait, did he actually kiss you?” She gripped my arms in her excitement. “Frederic, of all people! I can’t believe it!”
“No!” I cried, frantically shaking my head. “No, of course he did not. I didn’t mean…I never said…”
Celine looked closely at my face. “Ha! I knew it! You’re in love with him.”
“Celine!” I stood up, but she pulled me back down.
“Oh, don’t be silly. You can trust me. I knew it anyway.” She looked smug. “Although I didn’t suspect he’d do anything so dramatic.”
“He did not, truly he did not.” I chewed the inside of my cheek while my eyes pleaded with her to believe me.
“Oh, very well, he did not.” She smiled. “But you are in love with him. And he’s in love with you.”
I shook my head, looking down into my lap. “No, he’s not.”
“Oh, poo.” She scrunched up her nose. “He’s a wet blanket that’s for certain, but I think I know my own brother.”
“I really don’t think he is.”
She looked at me with knit brows. “I see. So we need to get him to admit it, then. Maybe even to himself.”
I looked up at her sharply. “Celine!”
She stood up and laughed again. “Don’t look so concerned. I’ll be ever so subtle, I promise.”
Misgiving seized me. I should never have let her see my reaction to her earlier words. It had been a day of mistakes.
“Why do you think I asked for your help?” she went on, striding up and down the small tent. “Well, I do legitimately need your help for Cassian, of course. I still can’t imagine who might fall in love with him. But I could see from that first day in your shop that Frederic was struck with you. I just thought the two of you might need a little help.”
I shook my head in bewilderment.
“I’m very observant,” she added with a mischievous twinkle in her eye.
“Celine, you shouldn’t be talking this way. Your brother is a prince. The crown prince. And I am a seamstress. One without a family, remember?”
She shook her head, not in the least cast down. “Evie, surely you know that’s not how these things work. You know the godmothers help princes and princesses find their true loves. Rank is unimportant. If a kingdom is to prosper, it must be ruled by true love. Those are the rules.”
I raised an eyebrow at her, and she grinned back at me. “Besides, all three of my sisters and my other brother have all made eminently suitable noble and royal matches ensuring all sorts of excellent treaties for Lanover. There aren’t even any more eligible princesses left. Which means, Frederic’s only job as crown prince to ensure the well-being of his realm, is to marry his true love.”
I shook my head again. “That isn’t me, Celine. It couldn’t possibly be.” I actually laughed, although the sound held no humor. “I’m not princess material, let alone queen. And I’m not true love material, either.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” the younger girl said briskly. “Of course you are. And now I just need to get Frederic to see it.”
“Celine, please.” I tried one last time without much hope of being heeded.
She continued to stride up and down. “You know, you’re even an orphan,” she pointed out. “With a horrible, downtrodden life.”
“Celine!”
She grinned. “Sorry. But my point is that you’re just the type to have a godmother, too. Are you sure you don’t?”
I stood up as well and faced her, my hands on my hips. “Of course I’m sure.”
“Not even a godmother object?”
The objects of power dispensed by the godmothers were usually handed down from generation to generation as heirlooms, even long after their magic had been exhausted. Celine didn’t know how humorous it was to suggest that I, the most homeless of orphans, might have such an item.
“No.”
“Sorry,” she said again, absently this time. “Perhaps they knew you didn’t need one. That you’d be able to captivate Frederic all on your own.”
I swallowed, trying to guard my mind and heart before I started believing her talk of my captivating Frederic. I had far too much bitter experience with false hope. Because despite what Celine said, even if Frederic did have some passing interest in me, surely it was only because we were traveling in such close proximity. That didn’t make me his true love.
Chapter 16
Frederic confirmed my reading of the situation when he wouldn’t even meet my eyes the next day. The Tour packed up and traveled onward the day after that, taking the one road large enough for us all, running through the jungle east to west. Even with only the one major road—which intersected with a single large north-south road—the junglers struggled to keep the length of it clear from the ever-encroaching greenery. Whole teams of them were employed by the crown in the task, and we passed one such team before reaching the next village.
We stopped for one or two nights at every village we passed and were feasted and entertained with exhibitions and competitions. Frederic and Celine both laughed with me at our first eastern village.
“It’s exactly the same as in the west,” Celine whispered to me over the evening meal.
“It even tastes the same,�
� Frederic agreed in an undertone.
I chuckled. “I did try to warn you.”
After that they both took great delight in pointing out any tiny difference they could spot between the eastern villagers and the western.
In reality our slow journey took only a matter of weeks, but still I began to fear we would never leave the jungle. It didn’t help that all the time we crept closer and closer to my own old village near the eastern edge.
Frederic had regained his ease around me, but Celine watched us with an eagle eye that made me jumpy every time I saw it. I spent my time adjusting clothes and avoiding the locals. And dreaming of returning again to a place that didn’t buzz with the constant hum of insects.
My nightmares intensified until sometimes my restlessness did wake Celine. She asked about them, but I refused to give her details. The dreams of the taunting jungler children now mingled with more horrifying visions. Ones that now, as I had feared, included a smell that sometimes woke me retching. Because we would only leave the jungle when we reached the desert.
When at long last the Tour rode into my old home, it turned out to be rather anti-climactic. The village looked just as it had when I had left it more than four years ago, and yet, somehow, it looked also smaller and only half-familiar, as if it were a place from a distant dream—as if I had grown past this place and the emotions it had once roused in me.
The locals had all gathered to welcome us, and I scanned their faces for any familiar ones. I wasn’t sure who I dreaded seeing more—my old foster mother or her children.
One young man looked familiar, his own eyes widening in recognition as they met mine. Brandon. I rode next to Celine, only two rows back from the princes, and his eyes raced between me and the princess.
I gave him a cold inclination of my head.
I thought I had seen everyone by the time I dismounted, so the soft arms that enveloped me in a smothering hug took me by surprise. I pushed back, disentangling myself from the sudden attack.
The Princess Search: A Retelling of The Ugly Duckling (The Four Kingdoms Book 5) Page 12
