Forbidden Fairytales- The Complete Series

by Caroline Peckham

  “Name's Aladdin,” he offered.

  Couldn't he tell I was not in a talking mood?

  “As in...of The Forty Thieves?” he pressed and I ground my teeth. I'd heard of them alright. The biggest organised gang in the city. But I'd not heard of this guy specifically.

  Aladdin leaned forward into the flickering torchlight that was cast beyond his cell. He had jet black hair and the kind of face that made women drool. He was smiling. Why was he smiling?

  Did this thief actually think I was on a level with him? I might not have looked like it right then, but I was a royal guard.

  I sighed, figuring I might as well bridge the silence. There wasn't much else to do, considering I was going to die at dawn. Because I was not going to help Gothel become an even bigger monster than she already was. Even if that meant facing the hangman's noose.

  “Thirty nine,” I said.

  “What?” Aladdin asked.

  “Thirty nine thieves,” I corrected him. “They caught one.”

  I raised an eyebrow at the balls on this guy. He’d just found out that he was right beside a legend and he hadn’t even batted an eyelid.

  Thirty nine thieves? Pfft. He’ll be laughing on the other side of his face come nightfall when my gang come to get me out.

  “You know, you don’t have to be embarrassed,” I said, leaning through the bars to look at him. “I know it can be intimidating to come face to face with a real life legend.”

  Someone had gone to town on this guy and his muscular body was a mess of cuts and bruises. There were a few burns too and he hissed between his teeth as he pushed himself backwards to lean against the filthy wall. I wondered what he’d have to have done to earn that kind of torture.

  “If you were a legend, I’m sure I’d have heard of you before,” he replied dismissively.

  Asshole.

  I pushed my hair back as I surveyed him. It was hard to gauge from his position slumped on the floor but I’d have guessed he was almost as tall as me. He was powerfully built which made me think he either ran the streets like I did or he held a job which required the use of his muscles.

  “You a blacksmith?” I guessed as I eyed the calluses on his palms.

  “No,” he replied, looking at me in a way that made me feel like he was sizing me up too.

  His earthy brown hair was cropped short in the kind of way that suggested someone else had cut it for him. Which meant either he had money or...

  “You’re a guard,” I stated, my lip curling back with distaste.

  Just my luck to be stuck here with a damn lawman.

  I almost suspected some kind of trap. Maybe he’d been put here to find out about me and the rest of The Forty. But no one was so committed to his job to have endured the kind of beating he’d clearly taken.

  I eyed the view out of the small window on the wall opposite my cell. Not that I could see anything other than the sky. The sun was nearly up but I guessed it was closing in on sunrise. I’d have to wait for nightfall to come again before the thieves would come for me which meant I had time to kill.

  “And you’re a criminal,” he grunted. “Of the worst kind if what I’ve heard about your buddies is true.”

  “They’re not my buddies,” I replied in disgust. “They’re my gang. Honestly, it’s like you’re trying to wind me up here with this nonsense. Just cut the shit.”

  “Well your gang are a bunch of cutthroats,” he said with a sneer.

  “Not true. We don’t kill our marks.”

  I didn’t anyway. At least not intentionally. And none of the thieves had killed anyone at all in nearly six weeks. Nine if you didn’t count Egos killing Tyros - which in a way you couldn’t because one of our own dying wasn’t the same as a mark taking the hit. And Tyros had turned out to be a lying sack of shit who’d tried to sell us out to the Royal Guard so his death had been more like justice than murder.

  “That’s not what they say about you in the palace,” he muttered.

  “You worked in the palace?” I asked eagerly, a groan very nearly escaping my lips.

  Every day for as long as I could remember I’d looked upon the palace walls with the greatest sense of longing. It was my dream to breach the iron gates, scale the stone parfaits and steal the crown jewels right out from under the Emperor’s nose.

  Oh I’d look so good in a crown.

  “I did,” he said with a faint frown which let me know he didn’t like the interest I held about the place. But shit wouldn’t I like to know what he knew about the inside of the palace.

  “You didn’t tell me your name,” I said, reaching through the bars and offering him my hand while giving him the kind of smile which made virgins drop their pants for me.

  He frowned at me for a moment and I wondered if I should scale it back. But I hadn’t met many people who couldn’t be won over by my dimples, male or female.

  “Cassian,” he grunted, removing his hand from a burn to his side so that he could shake mine.

  He looked me right in the eye as he tried to crush my fingers and I barked a laugh.

  Tough guy huh? Well I’ve met bastards with far bigger balls than you and lived to tell the tale.

  “No need to try and show me who’s boss,” I said, dropping his hand. “We’re equally screwed if we’re in here anyway.”

  At least until tonight when my gang came for me. Sucks to be you I guess.

  “There’s truth in that,” he agreed.

  “So, Cassian, how many guards work the palace at any one time? Do you follow a regular routine or do they change it up a lot?” I asked.

  I was fairly sure the look he was giving me could be interpreted as a solid screw you but I couldn’t help myself. I wanted to know every damn detail about that place and he held that knowledge locked up within his uncooperative mind.

  “You’re really still loyal to them?” I asked as he failed to answer. “Even after that?” I indicated his battered body and a frown pulled at his forehead.

  “I would never betray my Emperor, no matter what my own situation may be.”

  “Oh go on, enlighten me. We’re both stuck in here anyway so it’s not like I can use the information. And I promise you it would feel good to betray them a little in payment for your suffering.”

  “I don’t blame the Emperor for my situation,” he growled. “I blame Gothel.”

  “Gothel? The queen?” I laughed. I’d heard tales of the mysterious beauty who’d won the Emperor’s love with her foreign looks and unearthly appeal, but it didn’t mean much to me. The palace might as well have been on the other side of the world as far as I was concerned. My life with The Forty was about the furthest from royalty that you could get.

  “She is more than just a-”

  The door at the end of the corridor opened and I moved away from Cassian’s cell as I drew closer to the door.

  “Is this breakfast at last?” I called as three guards approached. I recognised the one in the middle as the captain who had captured me and gave him the kind of smile which I imagined would make him want to punch me.

  “We don’t waste food on dead men,” Captain Marik snarled as he came to a halt before my cell.

  “Dead men? I only stole a loaf of bread. Is the punishment for that death these days? I know the kingdom is falling to shit but that seems a little extreme,” I said.

  “Silence, scum. I’m here to read you your charges and inform you of your punishment,” he snapped.

  I held my tongue as I leaned against the bars again, waiting to hear what allegations had been made against me.

  Marik turned his gaze to my new cell mate and his scowl deepened. “Good to see you're getting the treatment you deserve, traitor.”

  Cassian only responded with a glower of his own and Marik returned his attention to me.

  “You have been charged with burglary and the rape of the Countess of Nore. The punishment for your crime is three years in the dungeon.” The Captain leaned closer, lowering his voice with a wicked smi
le on his face. “And castration.”

  I took a step back from the bars. “What?” I croaked before clearing my throat and forcing myself to ask again more calmly. “What do you mean castration?”

  Marik smirked at me. “You should have thought about that before you raped a Countess. I don’t imagine your pretty face will be enough to make up for a lack of manhood with the ladies if you’re ever released.”

  “I never touched that goat,” I growled. “Ask her! Get her to come down here and identify me. She’ll tell you it wasn’t me!”

  “A fiend attacked the Countess while she was sleeping and took her from behind. She didn’t see his face. We caught you in the vicinity and can only presume you are the perpetrator.” The other guards chuckled at my predicament and I scowled at them.

  “That whore met him in the market this morning and let him into her house with the full intention of fu-”

  “Are you saying you know who the culprit is?” Marik asked, a glimmer in his eye. “If you want to make a statement and tell us where to find him...”

  I ground my teeth, moving my hands to block my manhood and eyeing the guards for any instrument to suggest that they were planning on carrying out this sentence now.

  “I was only guessing,” I muttered. There wasn’t much in this world that would make me turn on my gang but I’d be damned if I’d have my balls cut off for them.

  “Well why don’t you think on it tonight? Your sentence is to be carried out at dawn tomorrow. Unless you can think of anything to help us apprehend this imagined other suspect before then.” Marik’s eyes slid to my crotch and he laughed before turning and heading for the door.

  “And what about breakfast?” I bellowed before the door could close between us.

  “Whistle for it,” he replied and the door swung shut.

  “Asshole,” I snarled as I paced to the rear wall of my cell and back a few times.

  “And I thought I had it bad with a death sentence,” Cassian joked and I almost laughed. Almost.

  “Well if you’re really unlucky, the last thing you’ll see before they cut off your head will be them chopping off my bollocks. And the biggest travesty of all is that I never even screwed her! She’s so ugly she’d scare the shit out of a toilet. I’ve no idea how Balthazar even summoned the motivation to do it and I’m certain I never could have.”

  Cassian snorted a laugh and I raised an eyebrow at him. I hadn’t expected the royal guard to have a sense of humour hiding beneath that macho exterior.

  “I mean it, you should have seen her. You couldn’t drink enough ale to make her attractive. Balthazar had better come through for me tonight or I’ll be selling him down the river. My loyalty has its limits and they end way before a blade is coming anywhere near my manhood.”

  “Who’s Balthazar?”

  I stilled as I looked at my companion and suspicion ran through me as I headed over to survey him more closely again. Balthazar was almost as infamous as me so I didn’t fear mentioning his name but I was hardly going to start handing out information on The Forty to this stranger.

  “What did a royal guard do to land himself a death sentence?” I asked seriously.

  Cassian twisted his lips and I could tell he wasn’t sure whether or not to tell me so it must have been bad.

  “Did you murder someone?” I guessed, leaning forward eagerly. “Or call the Emperor a pig ugly nut sack? Or steal from the royal palace? Or screw one of the-”

  “I saw the Princess’s face,” he growled, probably to shut me up more than anything but I beamed at him as if he’d just confided in me like we were friends. Which he’d probably start thinking we were any time now. I had a likeable face. And personality. Everyone always fell for my charm in the end.

  More fool them.

  “You screwed her?” I guessed.

  “No,” Cassian snarled and I raised an eyebrow at him.

  “Kissed her then?”

  “I only saw her for a moment.”

  “Right. And they threw you in here for that alone?” I asked in disbelief.

  “Everyone in the kingdom knows that it is a crime punishable by death to look on the beauty of the Emperor’s daughter. As far as I know, no man aside from me and the Emperor have ever looked on her before-”

  “Sucks for you then.”

  “If you had seen her then maybe you would understand-”

  “I've seen plenty of pretty girls. Got most of them naked too. If they’re hiding her face I’d be more tempted to believe she’s ugly as all sin and the Emperor is just hoping to trick some poor fool to part with a fortune for a marriage to a donkey-”

  “I saw her myself!” he yelled. “And I won’t hear you besmirch her beauty as if it's nothing.”

  Silence rang between us and I pursed my lips.

  This guy seriously needs to get laid.

  “Relax mate. At least you aren’t about to get your cock cut off.”

  Cassian stared at me for several long seconds then started laughing.

  Princess Rapunzel Amari of Osaria, I now pronounce you royally screwed.

  I had to be married by the end of the month.

  Thirty days and counting.

  The clock was ticking. Literally. The one in my room ticked so loud, I often stuffed it in a pillow to shut it up. Today, I'd left it on the mantel. The maid would only put it back anyway. She had more control over her fate than me. Messed up? Yes.

  Women had no power in my city. Princesses included. Unless you were Queen Gothel.

  Tick, tick, tick.

  My father would be announcing it all to the kingdom right about now. The rules, the game. I was the prize. But he didn't see it like that. He was protecting me, or so he said. If there were rules, that meant men would be eliminated. Men: AKA princes, Lords, and any other power-hungry, scheming piece of shit who decided to throw their hat into the ring so long as they could afford the entrance fee. What better way to assess a man’s suitability to be my husband than to get him to part with a small fortune?

  I didn't get to throw hats. I was the trophy, the glossy little token for whichever suitors greased my father's palm enough to enter the pageant - an ancient, barbaric and entirely sexist tradition. Brawls would take place between the candidates as a means to eliminate them and between the bouts I was supposed to entertain them with feasts and balls. But as the winner was determined by the fights it seemed pointless for me to spend time getting to know the competitors. My opinion on them was clearly irrelevant to the outcome anyway. And the victor of the final match would be declared the winner of my heart.

  You know what would really win my heart right about now? A glass of Cartlanna wine.

  I trailed around my opulent quarters, thinking of what was to come with a sharp pinching feeling in my chest.

  How to win a Princess:

  Bring her father unspeakable amounts of wealth.

  Defeat other suitors in a fist fight with supposed honor.

  Be revered by every citizen in the kingdom for being a hero amongst men.

  Oh I'd forgotten about the unspoken rule.

  4. Wear the pretty Princess on your arm while occupying her kingdom and claiming a right to the throne she cannot sit on alone.

  I'm going to cut my nose off so their prize will be ruined.

  No I'm not. I'm a coward and I like my face too much.

  I wasn't allowed to go out in public without a hundred escorts and a veil over my head. My beauty was famed, not confirmed. The tales of my tiny button nose, golden hair as soft as feathers, plump lips and eyes the colour of the rising sun was definitely an exaggeration. The wild stories that circled the city about how my gaze alone could light an undying fire in a man's soul was definitely going to be cause for disappointment when I met my husband-to-be.

  I wondered what my fiancée would think when he realised his bride came served with a large helping of personality. The men vying for my hand probably weren't counting on that. They'd be too caught up in the power trip this cou
ld offer them and what my body would look like when it was bent beneath theirs.

  I shuddered.

  I can't let this be my fate.

  I recalled the only man who'd ever seen my face. It had happened just three days ago in a moment which had lasted an eternity. I'd not just felt unveiled, I'd felt naked, entirely exposed to the hungry gaze of that royal guard. And I wasn't blind, I'd noticed how handsome he was. Tall with the thick muscles all the guards held, but his face was what had captivated me the most. Chiselled, his eyes two deep lakes of cinnamon.

  There'd been a strain to his expression, as if his whole point of existence had been walking through that door. Had it really been worth his life just to gaze upon my face? He would have known the consequences of such a thing. Guilt consumed me that that poor man had met his death because of such a stupid rule. I'd tried to fight it. But my father wouldn't listen to me. The law was the law. And I was a slave to it as much as that guard had been.

  The worst part of it all was that I was going to be unveiled at the beginning of the pageant anyway. So his life had been wasted for the sake of a few days when the whole kingdom would be allowed to see my face.

  What had you been thinking you fool?

  I took a breath, saying a silent apology to the single man in the world who'd seen my face beyond my father and had suffered a terrible fate because of it.

  “Moping again!” Gothel crowed as she barged into the room unannounced. The queen. My father's wife. Did that give her the right to stalk into my quarters as she liked? No. But did she do it anyway? All. The. Time.

  I'd never liked Gothel, though my father had praised her name from the second she’d walked into the palace. An exotic, pale-skinned woman from who-knew-where seeking an audience with the Emperor of Osaria himself? Who would buy that? My father apparently. The massive bag of jewels she’d carried with her had bought her an evening with him. And the next day - the next damn day - he’d announced their engagement. I’d only been thirteen but I’d seen her for what she was the second she’d arrived. Trouble. And every day since had only confirmed that to me.