Caspian and I linked an arm with each other and skipped round and round the broken table. Our laughter was merry, and our souls were light for one evening. The songs never ended, and neither did the wine bottles we had found in the kitchen. The staff had been prepared. Well done, ye fellows of mine!
My cousin and I hunched over ourselves in a fit of laughter, tears rolling down our faces when we couldn’t stop. We clinked our wine bottles in an agreement of a fabulous night. Neither of us first noticed when the ground vibrated under our feet; we simply started dancing again.
When I lost my footing, stumbling over my own feet, I threw my arms out to steady myself. The grin plastered to my face slowly melted away, though. A tremble of the ground had made me trip, not my own drunken self.
I set my wine bottle on the tiling, questioning breathlessly, “Caspian, do you feel that?”
“Feel what?” He was turning in fast circles and staring at the ceiling, waiting until he could spin no more, a crash inescapable just as he wanted.
“Stop moving, you twit. The ground is shaking.”
“You’re drunk.”
“As are you, but I’m right! Stop your confounded spinning and listen to me!”
His white head of hair gleamed under the chandelier’s light as he finally swung to a stop. My cousin’s unhidden dark blue eye instantly narrowed. He muttered in awe, “I think you’re right! The ground is shaking!”
“That’s what I said! But why is it shaking?” My nose crinkled as a memory tried to invade my intoxicated mind, something from my lessons years ago. “You know…I believe this is called an ‘earthquake.’ Grandmother Isabella taught me of these things.”
“I’ve never heard of such before.” Caspian scratched at his head. “Are you sure you have that right?”
“Princess Trixie is correct,” one of the guards inside the living area said behind me. “I’ve experienced these before many, many years ago. This is only a slight tremor, though. You have nothing to worry about. You may continue doing…whatever…it was that you were doing before. You are safe.”
I tipped my head to him in thanks. “We were celebrating my birthday, good sir. But I believe it’s time for me to retire before we break any more of Mother’s furniture.”
“That sounds like a wise choice, Your Highness.” He slipped back into the shadows so far I was unable to make out his features anymore. “And if I may make a suggestion?”
“Of course.” I waited patiently.
“Take the trashcan from the kitchen with you and place it next to your bed. I have a feeling you’ll be needing it shortly.” A short pause ensued. “Your Highness.”
I burped and then nodded. “Excellent advice.”
Caspian whined when I went to steal the trashcan from the kitchen, hollering after me, “It’s not even midnight yet!”
“Late enough for me, my friend!” The room was rotating just so. “The drink has made me weak. I’m going to bed before I’m sick in front of everyone.”
“Gross. Yes, go to bed then, weak one.”
I waved the empty trashcan at him as I passed back by on my search for the marble staircase that led to the promised land of my bedroom. “I guarantee you’ll be spitting up soon enough too, so shut your face before you embarrass yourself further.”
My cousin grunted, grumbling, “I’m going to sleep on the deck. Plenty of shrubs nearby to hide my shame.”
I chuckled and nodded. “Sleep well, my friend.”
Another grunt was all I received as he dragged his sorry elven ass out the back door—quickening his steps as soon as he hit fresh air, heading straight for a pretty shrub that was soon to be fouled.
I sighed and turned in a slow circle, my vision blurred from the booze. “Does anyone know where that confounded staircase is?”
One guard’s hand shot out of the dark and pointed to the left.
I turned my head and squinted.
Well now. The staircase was right next to me.
“I knew that,” I slurred. “I was simply checking to make sure you knew where it was. After all, it is a matter of royal safety that one’s guards know the entirety of the house you live in.”
“Of course, Your Highness,” a choked voice stated.
“Precisely.” I lifted my chin and gradually made my way up the stairs in regal fashion—if a little crookedly—except the trashcan clutched to my chest ruined the whole effect. There was nothing to be done about that, though. I wasn’t releasing it. The trashcan and I were about to get well acquainted. “Goodnight, everyone!”
Many “goodnights” returned from downstairs and upstairs.
At least, the ground was starting to settle down.
Small blessing, that.
None too soon, I had my bedroom door shut behind me.
Then the trashcan and I talked to one another. It was more me than it, but I more than made up for its silence. Scrunching up my face from the horrible scent now laying waste to my bedroom, I set the filthy trashcan outside my room, locked my bedroom door, and opened a window for fresh air.
My bed was soft and fluffy, and I flopped down on it, leaving one leg hanging off the mattress with my foot firmly planted on the floor. This was a trick Caspian had quickly taught me in our early days here. With a foot on the floor, the room didn’t spin quite so much. Every little bit helped when you were this smashed.
I closed my eyes and sighed into the darkness.
“Hello, my dearheart.”
My eyes popped open, and my head snapped up from my pillow. I stared at the bottom of the bed with wide eyes, gazing at the wavering spirit sitting cross-legged at the foot of my mattress.
I blinked slowly. “Grandmother?”
Her silver eyes narrowed. “Are you drunk, Trixie?”
“Why, yes. Yes, I am.” I blinked again, my eyes drying out. “Am I dreaming?”
“You are not.” Grandmother Isabella sighed heavily and shook her head in disappointment. “How many times did I tell you that nothing good comes from too much alcohol?”
“Many times. Obviously, I ignored it.” I sat up gradually, clutching at the bed so I didn’t fall off. “I haven’t seen you in twelve years, and the first thing you do is reprimand me? But, more importantly, where have you been all this time?”
“I’ve been busy.” She alluded to nothing and everything. Her scowl disappeared and was replaced with patience. “I’ve come with a message.”
I was too drunk for this Fae shit. “Say it then.”
“The king is ready for you and Caspian to return home. He expects you both to leave tomorrow morning, and for you to arrive at Gatlin Grove by the evening. He fully understands Caspian won’t arrive as quickly.”
“Just like that, we’re supposed to leave?” My lips pinched from annoyance. “Not even a day to pack?”
“Just like that,” Grandmother stated softly. “When the ruler beckons, you answer.”
“I have an answer I’d really like to give him.”
“In your drunken state, I doubt it would be flattering.”
“You guessed right.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “You’re not going to answer my question? Where have you been?”
“You’ll know soon enough.” Her translucent left hand patted my right knee. It felt like nothing except a cold brush of air. “I love you, Trixie.”
“You have a bizarre way of showing it.”
“I suppose I do now.” Her smile was small, and her frame began to disappear from view even further, her voice fading into nothing right along with her. “You’d better sober up, my dearheart. Your majority is here. It’s time to be the woman you were always meant to be…”
“That wasn’t creepy or anything,” I muttered under my breath. I glared where she had been, her spirit image completely gone now. “Grandmother, if you can still hear me, try not to pop in on me in the middle of the night. It’s a bit irksome.”
“Duly noted,” her whisper flittered like a breeze in the silence of my dark bedroo
m. “Now, do as I said.”
“Fine. Fine. Water it is.” I stomped through my bedroom and threw open the door. I ordered into the hallway, “Someone drag my drunken cousin inside. I have news.”
Immediately, footsteps pitter-pattered on the tiling.
On second thought, I swiftly amended, “Wait, don’t actually drag him. I don’t think anyone would like the outcome if you touched him that way. Just ask him to come upstairs—nicely.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
CHAPTER TWO
Confession of a princess:
I’m fairly certain I missed my father.
I think that’s odd seeing as he ignored me for twelve years. One should not miss someone who overlooks you.
Hold on… I must think.
That is odd, right? It’s so hard to tell when your father is a king.
One day, will I be just like him?
And, if that is true, does that mean I’ll hate myself a little, too?
“I can’t believe our king,” Caspian griped, his ire unrelenting while the sun began to rise over the horizon. He tossed a leather traveling bag over the back of his pure white horse, directly behind the saddle. My cousin pulled at the straps and tied them with quick, jerky movements. “I’m almost positive that I’m still bloody well drunk.”
“I’m seeing two of Penelope, if that tells you how I’m doing,” I grumbled and belched. My stomach churned with nausea, heavy enough I thought I might throw up again. My bags were already tied tightly to my Fae-gift’s saddle, thanks to a direct order from one of my nosiest guards. “Imagine trying to fly right now.”
My cousin’s face turned positively ashen. “Say no more. You have it worse.”
“Exactly.” I rubbed gentle circles against my flat belly, attempting to calm the damned organ down. With my free hand, I tugged at the sturdy flying saddle equipped with the normal belt for my waist and straps for my feet to hold me on. “My only comfort will be the fact I can’t fall off her.”
Caspian glanced at the horizon, more than likely gauging the time from the sun’s location in the sky. “You’d better leave now if you want to make it there by this evening.”
I pondered aloud, “I wonder if I can sleep while flying?”
“If she flies steady, you can.” My cousin stepped forward and stared up into Penelope’s fiery eyes. “Be nice on this trip, girl. Your owner is feeling under the weather. Will you do that for her?”
My precious Fae-gift bared her teeth and stomped her hooves.
I sighed and pulled a blue apple from my pocket. “Don’t rile her up now. She’s behaved so far.”
Caspian snorted. “She kicked the stable hand in the jaw. Broke his face in four places.”
I lifted the treat and smiled as Penelope munched on the blue apple right from my palm. “My baby only likes me. Everyone knows this. And I’m sure his jaw is fine by now.”
“That’s irrelevant to her ‘behaving.’”
“Not for me.” I ran my fingers down her long black face. “You’re going to be a good girl today, aren’t you?”
Penelope twitched her ears in agreement, even as she finished off her treat. She wasn’t ignorant. My Fae-gift knew I had more blue apples—her favorite—in my satchel. If she did as told, she’d get all the delicious treats she wanted.
“Help me up, Cas?” I brushed off my hands on my riding leathers, ridding myself of the sticky juice remaining on my skin.
Caspian dutifully did as I asked, damn near tossing me too far up and over. Penelope veered to the right quickly, positioning her body right under me so I didn’t fall.
My ass stung now. “Was that really necessary?”
“Just making sure your beast was actually going to be good for you.” My cousin shrugged his shoulders and sent his own glare to the pegasus beneath me. “Penelope, I’m not lying. Trixie’s sick. Take it easy.”
Penelope merely stared back, bored to the extreme. She took orders from no one but her owner, as a Fae-gifted pegasus should. She tilted her head to the side and watched me with one eye, waiting.
I strapped my feet in first and then my waist. “Be careful on your trip back, my friend. We pissed off plenty of elves on our journey to the coast.”
“It’s not my fault most of them didn’t like my jokes.”
“Still, be careful.” I pointed a sharp finger at him. “And do not hit on anyone already taken this time. You know you don’t have a shot in Fairy with someone already soul-mated.”
He brushed his white hair behind his pointed ears, a wicked grin etching his pretty face. “You never know. They may be bored and looking for some fun.”
I sighed heavily. “You are too good looking for your own good, because, for some dreadful reason, I actually believe you.”
My cousin’s chuckle was absolutely sinister. “Don’t wish my good looks away, cousin. If those were gone, I’d be positively frightful.”
“That we can agree on one hundred percent.” I nudged my right knee into Penelope’s flank, guiding her around Caspian’s horse. “You had better listen to me, though. The king will be upset if his prized possession doesn’t return. Try to conduct yourself in a way befitting the nephew of the king on your travels.”
“Yes, Your Highness,” Caspian mocked in a high-pitched voice.
“May the Fae save you,” I whispered quietly, knowing he wouldn’t do as I said at all.
“I heard that!” he shouted behind me.
“Of course, you did.” I leaned forward and nudged Penelope’s flanks harder, a direct order to start racing down the beach for flight. I gripped her mane with two fists and held on as she sprinted away. “I’ll see you when you arrive in Gatlin Grove!”
A few bystanders were walking on the beach for an early morning stroll. All stopped in their tracks when they saw us. Their mouths gaped open in a comical show of shock as Penelope’s black and red wings opened wide and started beating the air hard. Our neighbor was one of them, and I was reasonably sure she pissed herself—if the dark wetness on her pants was any indication—when she realized who I really was, all of the malicious comments she had tossed my way in the last twelve years surely running through her spiteful head.
“Surprise!” I shouted at her. “I’ll be seeing you again.”
She fainted dead, hitting the sand hard.
I snickered and leaned forward further, lowering myself against my Fae-gift’s warm body. “Fly, Penelope. Fly.”
Her hooves left the sand, and her wings flapped a strong cadence in the air, her take off seamless and enchanting, flying us higher and higher, the white clouds so much closer.
My stomach rolled, but I managed to praise her—finally—for good behavior, “That was perfect, Penelope. Now, take us home.”
I swallowed hard as she veered inland, away from the coastline. A tiny burp made its way past my lips, no matter how hard I tried to stifle it.
Penelope peered back, eyeing me with trepidation.
“I’m not going to puke on you. I promise,” I grumbled.
She huffed out a hard breath but turned back to her main job of getting us home safely. The dips and rises of her flying gentled some, now understanding the precarious state of my stomach.
I rested the side of my face against her warm neck, and whispered, “Thank you, my beautiful girl. I’ll give you all the blue apples in my bag if you keep this up.”
She nodded ever so slightly, careful not to knock my head.
Everything was sideways from the way I was lying, but the view was still tremendous. I sighed in happiness, my heart full, as I looked down upon my kingdom. The stunning hills and valleys were vast, and in the distance, to the north, I could even see part of the Gorgon Kingdom right over the Blood Forest separating our lands. Sugar Cove was too far north on the coast to see the Caster Kingdom to the south, and the Shifter Kingdom was directly to the west of the Elf Kingdom, again, too far away to see right now. But I had already viewed those plenty when flying with Father. Only a pegasus and
its rider could fly over the Blood Forest that divided all of our lands equally without being snatched from the air and destroyed. Father had shown me a lot while we were high in the air, safe from any threats.
I closed my eyes and snuggled closer to my Fae-gift. “I’m going to rest for a bit, Penelope. Only wake me if it’s necessary, please.”
Surprisingly, I did find slumber while we were airborne.
* * *
A gentle shake of my shoulder had me blinking awake. “Huh?”
“Welcome home, my daughter,” Father said quietly. “It’s time to wake up.”
I shot up straight, and I instantly groaned.
My aching joints were screaming at me.
I held my back and arched, squinting at my surroundings. I was still in the flying saddle, sitting astride Penelope’s back. But we were no longer in the air. The sun was setting now, casting an orange glow upon the king’s castle, where Penelope stood directly in front of the mighty palace.
“Wow,” I muttered in surprise, still blinking the sleep from my blurred gaze. “I slept the whole damned way. You get all the blue apples, Penelope.”
She flicked her tail with glee.
I shook my head past the slumber fuzzies and turned my attention down toward my father. I spoke respectfully, “King Traevon.”
Father’s lips started to pinch, but he quickly cleared his expression and dipped his head to me in greeting. “I take it your flight went well?”
“It went spectacularly.” I wiggled in my saddle, the kinks mended in my body. I unstrapped my waist and watched as Father bent to free my feet from the bindings. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” The king raised his hands and gripped my waist, helping me down to stand on solid earth. His emerald eyes scanned my face, in no hurry to look away. “Are you too tired to chat, or are you able?”
Marvels and Misfits Page 4