“Yup,” Warren agreed over the folksy tune he was playing. How he managed playing with a sling on one arm and a recent stab-wound on the opposite shoulder was beyond Julianna.
“I mean, seriously. What a dump. Look, over there,” she said and pointed. “Is that a fire? Like, an actual burning building?”
Warren glanced up. “Looks like.”
“Man, this city is messed up,” she muttered as she watched the distant smoke and flames, and down by the harbor the tiny little firefighters, presumably setting up one of their pumps that would bring water to the fire.
“This whole country’s messed up,” Warren said.
“True,” she agreed as she shifted her gaze from the fire to where Conroy Jr. was playing tag on the lawn with his two best friends: the son of the Royal Gardener and the son of the Royal Silversmith. “I’m glad Conroy Jr. seems to have recovered from his ordeal.”
“Resilient little dude,” Warren agreed. “I’m sure he’ll—” He stopped abruptly, and his music halted with a discordant twang.
Julianna looked quizzically in his direction and saw her friend staring past her toward castle’s front doors. She turned to see what had spooked Warren.
There was her father, striding toward them with a set to his jaw that clearly indicated a man on a mission. Behind him trailed two servants, one laboring under the weight of a heavy chair, and one holding a mug.
Conroy had been trying to have a conversation with his daughter ever since they’d gotten back from the hunting party. But she’d been evading him.
Julianna hopped to her feet and said, “Come on, Warren, let’s get out of here.”
He remained seated, his eyes still following the progress of the angry King. It felt beyond inappropriate to stand up, turn his back, and walk away from the supreme ruler of the kingdom. Even if he was just following the lead of the Princess. “Um,” he said uncomfortably, “He’s going to keep trying to talk to you. Shouldn’t you just let him before he gets any madder?”
She glared down at him and twirled her parasol while she thought. “I guess.” Then she flounced back onto the ground in a puff of lacy purple gown, with her back to her father.
Warren set down his banjo and stood, bowing low to the King.
Conroy ignored him completely and stopped in front of Julianna. “Dearest. We need to talk.”
“Well, then, talk,” she grumbled.
Conroy flicked a finger at the servant with the chair, then said, “There,” pointing at the ground by Julianna.
The servant set the chair on the ground.
Conroy sat. “Tea,” he barked. The other servant put the mug in his hand.
Julianna watched the spectacle with disdain.
Conroy waved a hand at the servants, and they scurried off. “Julianna. I have been trying to talk with you for five days. It’s important. If you keep running off with this commoner every time I approach, I will simply kick him out of the castle.”
“Dad, this commoner is the only reason I’m listening to you at all. He suggested I stay and hear you out. And it would be stupid to kick him out; he’s the counter-curse for your mysterious firstborn daughter. And, please, he has a name, so stop calling him ‘this commoner’.” She glared at Conroy a bit, and then something else occurred to her. “Oh, and also, if it weren’t for Warren, Conroy Jr. would have been kidnapped! So, seriously, you should be treating him a lot better than you are.” She looked behind her at where Warren stood, and said, “Warren! You don’t have to keep bowing.”
Warren looked up at her and straightened up.
“I’ll tell him when he can stop bowing,” Conroy roared.
Warren bowed again and rolled his eyes at the ground. How could such a dopey guy be a king? Inbreeding really was interesting. It was lucky for Julianna that her mom was from outside the Royal Gene Pool. And, no, they didn’t know about genetics in Fritillary.
“Dad, for goodness sake, just let him stand up so we can get on with whatever you have to say. He’s injured. I’m not talking to you while you’re having a power trip at my friend’s expense.”
Conroy growled, “You there. You may stand.”
Warren stood and looked at the ground uneasily.
“Sit down, Warren,” Julianna said. He got the distinct feeling that, while she was trying to make him comfortable, she was also trying to undermine Conroy.
Warren glanced at Conroy, who gave an irritated shrug, trying to pretend he didn’t care that his daughter was humiliating him in front of a nobody. Warren sat down by his banjo and resumed looking at the ground. Being in the presence of the king was no fun.
“Okay, Dad, what did you want to say?” she asked.
The King looked around, determining that no one was in earshot. “We need to make sure we’re all on the same page about all this. The curse and all that.”
“What is there to sort out? I mean, gossip’s already swirling around about how Farland messed up the curse.”
“Yes. Exactly. I just need to make sure, as the only three people who know the truth about—Warren—being the counter-curse, we’re in agreement what to tell people if they ask.” He paused and looked from Julianna to Warren and back again. “So, Farland messed up the curse. That’s it. And not a word about my other daughter. Not one word. Even to each other.”
Julianna’s curiosity got the better of her, and she stopped being aloof long enough to ask, “So, seriously, no one knows about her?” Now that the conversation had turned in this direction, there were a lot of questions she knew Warren had but was afraid to ask.
“No one. Well, no one but her mother, of course. Her mom knows about her because she was pregnant with her,” Conroy astutely pointed out.
“Do they know that there’s a way to break the curse?” she asked and looked at Warren.
“Nope. They don’t. If they knew the curse could be broken, her mom would start asking around and people might get suspicious.”
“But you’re going to tell them now, right?” Julianna persisted.
Conroy gave a little wince. “Well, I would if I could. But they disappeared a few years ago. The place they were hiding was abandoned last time I was able to get out there for a visit.”
Warren and Julianna gasped in unison, “What?!”
“Yeah. Disappeared. I haven’t heard a word from them.”
“Did you send anyone to look for them?” Julianna asked her dad while looking at Warren’s shocked face.
“Of course not!” Conroy answered as though she was an idiot. “What reason could I give my spies for sending them to search for two random commoners? No, I figured if they wanted to disappear, that was their business. At least it meant I didn’t have to fuss with child support anymore. And it wasn’t like the visits were any fun, anyway, so no loss on my end. Margaret—my ex—when she got pregnant, she figured she’d be queen. But when I met your mom and married her, and Margaret found herself living in hiding with a kid who couldn’t go out in the sunshine, she got so mad. All she did whenever I visited was whine, whine, whine. Good riddance, really.”
Julianna and Warren gaped a bit.
Julianna swallowed, and prompted, “And now that we’ve located the guy who can break the spell?”
Conroy sighed. “Yes. I see what you’re saying there. Yeah, I was thinking I could maybe tell a spy about it. See if he can track them down.”
“A spy? Just one?”
“Of course. If it’s just one, and word gets out about my other kid, I’ll know who told. The spy, or one of you two. The more people know, the more of a chance there is that someone will find out. And then it’s just a matter of time until your mom finds out.”
Julianna knew there was no point trying to talk him into just admitting about the previous relationship and resultant child. But, really, it was so irritating. All this convoluted nonsense just because he
couldn’t admit to the Queen about Margaret.
The King was quiet for a bit, sipping his tea, and Julianna was too mad to string together a coherent sentence, so she was quiet too. Of course, Warren wasn’t about to say anything.
“Hey, is that another fire?” Conroy asked as he gazed out over his vast empire. He sipped some tea.
Julianna didn’t bother answering, since of course it was.
“Well dear. Are we all set? We just tell everyone Farland messed up the curse and that’s why you can be out in the sunshine. And there’s no need to mention anything about your sister. Right?”
“Right, Dad,” Julianna responded.
Conroy gave Warren an arrogant stare and a quizzical eyebrow-raise. “You agree?”
Warren nodded and mumbled, “Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Good. If word gets around about my other daughter, I’ll have you killed, lad.”
And off Conroy swooped, dropping his mug of nearly-untouched tea in the grass for the servants to tend to.
Warren’s stared after him, not sure whether he was more shocked, horrified, or confused by those parting words. He looked with fear at Julianna.
She shrugged and rolled her eyes. “He wouldn’t dare.”
He cleared his dry throat, and asked shakily, “You sure?”
“I wouldn’t let him kill you, Warren,” She said with enough confidence to make him feel slightly better. Then she tossed aside her parasol and stretched out in the grass again. “He wouldn’t want to make me mad—I can blackmail him about Margaret now, after all. And also, you’re the person who can break my big sister’s curse.”
“He doesn’t seem all that attached to her, though,” Warren pointed out. “Seemed happy that she’d disappeared with her mom.”
“He won’t kill you,” she reiterated. “Next time I see him, I’ll be sure to threaten him about telling my mom his secret.”
“Cool. Thanks. Could you also ask him what your sister’s name is? I’ve been wondering.”
“Sure,” she answered and opened her eyes to look at him. “You must be really curious about her, hmm?”
“Very,” he answered.
“I wonder… When you see her, do you think you’ll fall in love automatically as a side-effect of the curse, or not?” she mused. “Wouldn’t it be great to just meet a person and BAM! fall in love just like that?”
He nodded. “Yeah. It would.” Warren was very anxious to meet this mystery lady; according to the terms of the curse, if they fell in love, her curse would be broken. Warren had never been that great at meeting ladies. For one thing, he had rarely met any of them while living on the pirate ship. And for another thing, he wasn’t a fan of the usual small talk and awkwardness that precedes a meaningful relationship. But he was tired of being single; and if ever there was a good shortcut in the getting-to-know-you process, it was this magical sentence: ‘Hi, my name’s Warren, and I’m the dude who can break your curse.’.
“Well, I’m sure you’ll get an opportunity to find out sooner or later! Fritillary’s a pretty small country. They’ll track her down.”
“I sure hope so.”
She watched him from her place in the grass. He was brooding again. She didn’t like to see him brooding. So she thought of something to take his mind off his worries. “Hey, are you hungry? It’s time we went in. I don’t want to get a sunburn, after all.”
“I’m starved,” he said eagerly. He never turned down an opportunity to eat as much as he could of the excellent food that was on offer in the castle.
“And after we’ve eaten, we can see about getting you an audition with the Royal Theater in town.”
“That would be really cool,” Warren said with a grin; being friends with a princess definitely had its perks. He hopped up out of the grass, then offered her a hand up with his non-broken arm.
She waved him away. “I don’t want to hurt your shoulder.”
Warren grabbed his banjo, Julianna grabbed her parasol, and off they strolled to get a snack from the castle kitchen.
Jane walked onto the dock at the Apamea Bay Marina and strode to the spot where the pirate ship was tied up. She looked up the gangplank and saw Captain Maximus McManlyman chillaxing on a deck chair, apparently reading one of those romance novels he so loved. She was pretty sure she saw him turn his head her way a tad, spotting her out of the corner of his eye and pretending he hadn’t. “Oh boy, here we go,” she muttered, and walked up the gangplank.
McManlyman did a pretend double-take when she got near. “Oh, hi!” he said. “I didn’t see you there.” He kicked his feet off the footrest, stood, and clomped over to her.
She said, “My business in Apamea is done, so we can get going whenever works for you.”
“Great!” he said. “How’d it go?”
They’re going to help us,” she said. It felt surreal. Just the previous morning, she had come unannounced to the Capital, and met with some members of the Apamea Council who had been able to make some time for her. The Council members had been very excited to hear what she had to say. So excited that they’d managed to throw together a meeting with all the rest of the members for the following morning. Just hours later, they had agreed (by a vote of 7 to 2) to help the Order of the Orange Star in Fritillary. Jane told McManlyman, “We just have to go back to Fritillary, gather up representatives from all the chapters of the Orange Star, come back here, and talk turkey.” It would take a lot of time to organize Mortimer and Steph and all the other leaders of the chapters from across Fritillary, but with luck they’d all be sailing back to Apamea by spring.
“Hey, that’s cool,” McManlyman said. “Congrats. Oh, look what I did today!” He rolled up his billowy sleeve, revealing a heavily-tattooed arm.
She ignored the fact that he was blatantly flexing his gigantic muscles. “What am I supposed to be seeing?” she asked as she surveyed the tattoos. An anatomically impossible mermaid, a treasure chest, a few swirly designs that were obviously meant to disguise the names underneath that had to be of ladies that he’d had fallings-out with.
“Right here!” he said helpfully and pointed with his other hand. On his strapping deltoid, under a big, glaring skull-and-crossbones, was an orange star. And scrawled over it read: REVOLUTION!
“Oh man, seriously?” she asked. “You got a tattoo.”
“Yeah. Because the revolution means so much to me. I care a lot.”
“Well, it’s your arm,” Jane answered. “Look, will we be able to get going today? I’m anxious to get home and get the ball rolling.”
“Yeah, we can get going any time,” McManlyman said, then gave his burly muscles another unnecessary flex before rolling his sleeve back down. He looked around, spotted his first mate in the rigging, and barked, “BIGGBY!” Then he tipped his pirate hat at Jane and stomped off to get the crew moving.
McManlyman ran a streamlined operation, so the ship was ready to go in a jiffy. Jane went to stand at the bow (that’s the pointy bit at the front), and as the pirates sailed off toward the horizon, she leaned against the railing and took a calming breath. It was finally happening. The Order of the Orange Star would soon have all the help and resources they needed.
Revolution was coming to Fritillary.
an excerpt from
Wistful Musings from a Crow’s Nest
By Corrine Kensington
I’m a sad, lonely lady,
In this crow’s nest tonight.
Thinking matters most weighty,
I’d like to take flight.
I’d fly over the ocean,
And land on the shore.
For that’s where (I’ve a notion),
There must be dudes galore.
I’m not talking bloodthirsty
Pirates I know.
But fellas who’re worthy,
Souls pure as the snow!
I’ve been known to date pirates
If they’re nice to behold,
But when we’d go on dates,
All they talk of is gold.
Hard lessons have taught me,
If love’s to be found,
Picky I must be,
Though men do abound.
I’m dreamy enough to get
Any old catch,
But a guy won at roulette,
Would be a bad match.
So as much as it irks me
I guess I must wait,
For who Fate has in store
For my marriagey state.
Come on mystery fellow
I hope you’re attractive,
In danger not yellow,
And, heath-wise, you’re active.
Be clever and funny,
Complexion not pasty,
Your temper be sunny,
Your cooking be tasty.
I’m tired of waiting,
So let’s make it snappy.
On the record I’m stating:
We’ll be so, so happy
Acknowledgements
Thanks to Will, who is the most supportive partner a writer could ever dream of.
Thanks to my parents, Pat and Steve. If you hadn’t supplied me with zillions of books as a kid, I would never have become a writer.
Thanks to the rest of my family: Anna, Julia, Katie, Niko, Nick, Ben, Stephanie, Mike, Stella, Tristan, Holly, and Bill.
So many thanks to Lindy Ryan for reading this book and thinking it would be a good fit for Black Spot Books. I always thought I’d be too protective of this particular story to trust it in the hands of any publisher, but I had zero hesitation with you.
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