BEAUTY’S QUEST
PART II OF THE ONCE UPON A PRINCESS SAGA
҉҉҉҉
C. S. Johnson
Copyright © 2016 by C. S. Johnson.
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher.
Library of Congress Control Number: 2017909188
ISBN-13 eBook: 9781943934263
ISBN-10 eBook: 1-943934-26-6
ISBN-13 Book: 978-1-943934-27-0
ISBN-10 Book: 1-943934-27-4
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Beauty's Quest (Once Upon a Princess, #2)
҉ | PART II
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Also By C. S. Johnson
For my kids. My older ones: Nolan, Brooks, Rebekah, Andres, Mary, Satori, and Tyler, and Rachel, too; my middle ones: Tate and Jake and Miles; and my younger ones: Sam, Johnathan, Malik, Gracie, and Ethan, and my other Rebekah. I might be a role model for you, but you are the ones whose expectations I strive to live up to.
This is also for my other Sam. Yours was the first face I could see in my imaginary audience, and I have neither forgotten nor begrudged you the accompanying catcalls.
This book is published courtesy of
www.direwolfbooks.com
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PART II
“WHEN I HAVE FEARS THAT I may cease to be
Before my pen has gleaned my teeming brain ...
And when I feel, fair creature of an hour,
That I shall never look upon thee more,
Never have relish in the faery power
Of unreflecting love—then on the shore
Of the wide world I stand alone, and think
Till love and fame to nothingness do sink.”
~ “When I Have Fears that I May Cease to Be,” Keats
*1*
҉
IF THERE WAS ONE THING Princess Aurora Rosemarie Mohanagan knew, it was that she had no reason to fear death. But as she glanced down at the half-sunk ship, wrecked on the rocky coast below her, Rose admitted to herself—more than a little reluctantly—she was lucky she’d survived.
“It’s a miracle we’re alive, Rose.” The small fairy perched on her shoulder echoed Rose’s thoughts as they both looked toward the harbor.
Rose tried not to smile as she watched Mary, her small fairy friend, wring the excess water out from the folds of her dress. “You’re right about that, Mary. But I don’t know if they think so,” Rose muttered, nodding down to the gruff sea captain and his crew. She watched them as they waded into the cove, pulling the storm-weathered bow of the vessel closer to shore. “Philip gave them quite a lecture.”
“One they won’t likely be forgetting anytime soon, either,” Philip agreed.
Rose looked over to see Prince Philip of Einish, her newest friend and traveling companion, making his way up the rocky beach. His copper-brown hair glistened with seawater, the droplets sliding down his sunburned face and into his beard. “Oh really?” she teased. “What did you tell him?”
“I told him the truth,” Philip assured her with a grim smile. “I told him he’d almost killed two royals, and neither country would be happy to accept his calls to port anymore should anything adverse happen.” He stepped up next to her. “I’m sure neither your father nor my brother would object to keeping them from our countries’ docks after their incompetence during that storm.”
“Einish and Rhone do make quite a large profit from the sea-faring trade,” Ethan, the youngest of the group, spoke up. He sighed as he looked at the soaking wet packs in his hand, the remnants of his precious manuscripts and scrolls. “Even when Sophia and I were living with our family”—his lips tightened at the memory—“I’d never known my father to complain of an investment failing when it came to trading with either.”
Rose agreed. The kingdom of Rhone, her home, was mostly landlocked, but the few harbors it had on the northern side of the kingdom were bustling with activity throughout the year. She remembered seeing several when she had been younger, on one of her grand tours of the nation, the feeling of awe as she surveyed Elis, Rhone’s largest port, and she watched the people there, busy about the docks. She knew Philip’s warning was no light threat.
Looking at the sullen expression on Ethan’s face, Rose turned her attention back to the situation at hand. “Where is Sophia?” she asked. She lifted her hand up to shield herself from the streaming sunlight as she looked around for her squire. “I thought I saw her make her way to the shore a few moments ago.”
“She is a good swimmer,” Ethan reminded Rose. “She might just be lingering to see if she can help. Theo was doing that, too.”
“Well, I know he was going to help with the burials for the two crew members who died.” Rose’s fists clenched again. The reality of coming so close to a watery grave made her shiver. “I hope they’re not making him help dig graves.”
“I doubt it,” Philip said with a sad sigh. “I know the men are going to be given a burial at sea. Many feel it is more appropriate, considering they drowned.”
“I suppose so,” Rose grimly agreed. “If that’s what they’re doing, then Theo should be here soon.”
“All in a day’s work for a priest, right?” Philip asked, shaking the water out of his gloves.
Rose snorted disdainfully. “Just because he was raised in the church and knows how to perform rites and catechisms and the like doesn’t mean he’s a priest.” She glanced over Philip’s shoulder to see if she could spot her long-time friend coming up from the beach.
“He acts like it enough,” Philip reminded her.
“But he’s still not, so get it right.” Rose stuck her tongue out at him before turning her attention elsewhere. “If he was a full priest, maybe he could have stopped the rain sooner.”
“It wasn’t that long of a storm.”
“To you, maybe it wasn’t that long of a storm,” Rose muttered. “When that storm grew severe, it had to have been already raining for at least two weeks.”
Mary chuckled, her small wings fanning Rose’s face. “It just seemed like two weeks,” she said. “It was really only about four days, Rose.”
“I lost track of time as soon as the crew stopped listening to reason,” Rose said. “Especially after those goons in charge of the ship were trying to puff the sails to catch more of the wind, rather than pulling it up.” She gave Mary a tiny pat on her head, flicking Mary’s dark ginger locks affectionately. “If you hadn’t used your magic to find this island, I don’t know what we would have done.”
“We’d probably be swimming back to Rhone. Or maybe we could’ve tried to get closer to the mainland, where the Romani territory is. We’ve got to be at least halfway there.”
“Don’t think I wouldn’t completely object to it, either. I suppose now we will have to find a way to get more supplies.” Rose turned to Philip. “How much money do we have left?”
“A good bit. But Rhonian money is different from the money used in the Peloponnesian countries,” Philip wa
rned her.
“Too bad we don’t deal in Magdust,” Ethan said as he began to move higher on the rocks, looking for a place to air out the parchment he’d rescued from his drenched pack. “I’ll bet that would get us some money pretty quick.”
“Don’t say such things.” Rose’s admonishment came swiftly but softly. “Especially when you’re working with Thad’s manuscripts.” Theo and Thad’s parents had been killed by Everon, Magdalina’s son, in connection with the illegal Magdust trade in Rhone. Theo wouldn’t have appreciated that comment, Rose thought.
“I was just trying to liven things up some,” Ethan grumbled, rubbing his hand through his shaggy brown hair. “I didn’t mean any harm.”
“I should hope so,” Mary scoffed. “I’ve had friends who have been killed and smashed into Magdust.”
“What?” Rose was shocked. “You’ve never mentioned that to me.” Mary was loyal to Rose and her party, and one of the only fairies, in all of Rhone who still supported the ruling family. Rose could not remember a time her life had not been touched with Mary’s devotion.
Mary shrugged. “You know I have never held the Magdust trade against you, Rose. I wouldn’t want you to think that, especially with Magdalina placing that curse on you.”
“I would never think of you the way I think of Magdalina. Being a fairy has nothing to do with being evil,” Rose assured her. She turned back to look over the edge of the rocky cliffs. “Mary, can you help Ethan with the maps and scrolls? They need to be dried.”
“No problem,” Mary murmured dutifully.
Philip came up next to her. “Can I help you with anything?”
“Yes,” Rose replied. “Please take an inventory of our remaining supplies, and count how much money we do have so we can see about moving on toward the Romani territory.”
“Sure thing.”
Rose sighed softly as Philip headed back down to the shore. She was alone for the moment.
Rose inhaled deeply, feeling the salty sweetness of the air. The beach was beautiful, with its white sand kissing the sea with such tenderness. There was a calmness in the air she would have given anything to have had during the nighttime storms. Rose knew full well she should have been grateful, even relaxed, to be on such lovely, solid dry land after several weeks of traveling by sea.
But she wasn’t.
Another victory for Magdalina, she thought, feeling the full weight of the curse placed on her at infancy. Like all the previous royal heirs of Rhone, Rose had been blessed by the gifts of the fairies, Fiona and Juana, Mary’s older cousins, at the celebration of her birth. But before Mary could give her a touch of magic as well, Magdalina showed up, angry at not being invited and bitter against the kingdom. It was then she had cursed Rose to prick her finger on the spindle of a spinning wheel and die on her eighteenth birthday, now less than a year away. Magdalina had then laughed and took her leave.
Mary had been able to alter the curse—death-like sleep would replace death—but that was little comfort to Rose. It was still the end of her life.
Rose looked down at her palms, her gaze tracing up and down the length of her fingers, as she wondered which one would betray her.
After seeing Magdalina at her royal birthday party just over three months before, and feeling every second as it counted down to her eighteenth birthday, Rose knew more than ever she had to find a way to break the curse. That had been the plan when they’d set off from Rhone.
Now, if she was going to get the dragon’s blood she needed to take care of Magdalina, she had to find a way off this prison of an island—and fast.
She pressed her fingers into her temples, steeling herself against the fear that clutched at her heart; the terror squeezed the beauty of her surroundings out of sight, until only the ugliness of despair and the unknown remained.
“It’ll be all right, Rosary.”
Rose jumped at the sudden presence by her side. She looked over to see Theo had climbed up next to her. “I know,” she said, aware she was half-lying. “But we are only about halfway to Romani territory, and we can’t afford to be delayed long.”
“We’ve made good time,” Theo told her. “We are on the island of Maltia, according to the men from the ship. There’s a city on the other side of that peak over there.” He pointed to a mountaintop in the distance. “We should be able to find a church there, according to some of the crew. I’ll be able to see about securing us quarters. And hopefully, passage on another ship as well.”
“Are you sure you can trust their information?” Rose asked, nodding back to the sailors. “After the confusion on the ship, I’d rather not.”
“A lot of them are superstitious men.” Theo shrugged. “But they are not as given to fancy when it comes to knowing their trade and its routes.”
“We’re not going to have to wait for them, are we?” Rose asked.
Theo gazed at her, his emerald-colored eyes complementing the comfort of the sea. “We don’t have to wait for repairs, if repairs are even possible. According to a man who’d talked to Captain Locke, the Maltians have a special trade route for the Romani territory.”
“Good.” Rose sighed. “Now we just have to get the money for supplies and passage.”
“We’ll find a way to get it,” Theo assured her. “Don’t lose hope, Rose. This could be a good thing. Maybe we’ll be able to find out more about the dragons.”
“I’ll try. No promises.”
Theo smiled. “That’s the Rose I know.”
“Right now, Philip’s checking supplies while Ethan and Mary are working on drying out the scrolls Thad gave us.”
“They’re not damaged, are they?” Theo’s eyes were wide with sudden concern.
Rose knew Theo’s older brother, who resided in the chapel in Rhone’s capital city of Havilah, probably prayed just as much for the safe return of his manuscripts and scrolls as he did for the safe return of Theo and his friends. “I think Mary will be able to take care of it,” she told him.
“That’s good.” Theo breathed a sigh of relief. “My brother is a forgiving sort, but I’d hate to be the one who tests his limits.”
As Rose laughed, a wink of light flickered in the corner of her eye. She turned to see Sophia, her thirteen-year-old squire, as she sloshed onto the beach below.
“Did you finish taking care of those who died?” Rose asked.
“Yes, both of them. The older was a man who had been seafaring since he was eight, and the younger not even a year behind Ethan.”
Rose reached out and placed her hand on his arm. She started to say something, but she found she had no words to say. It took a moment before she felt him relax as he let himself be comforted. She knew his heart was shaken, and his body had yet to catch up to the shock of seeing the dead. Rose had a feeling he would never be completely familiar with it, no matter his education as a priest or his training as a knight.
He drew up his arm, allowing Rose’s hand to fall into his. His fingers tightened around hers. “Thanks, Rosary.”
Theo smiled a bit as he momentarily fiddled with the chain of rosary beads at her wrist; he’d given them to her shortly before they had departed from Rhone.
“We should start heading to the city. The rain’s let up, but nightfall will be here before we know it.”
“Yes,” she agreed. “Let’s get the others.”
*2*
҉
THE DARKNESS SETTLED in as Rose became increasingly aware of the numbness in her legs. After weeks at sea, walking on land proved to be a transition her body was hesitant to make. She struggled not to scream in frustration when Theo delayed their progress by searching for the city cathedral and asking the nuns there for information and directions.
She only decided to forgive him when the church pointed them toward a small inn, one that was tucked away just beyond the cobblestone city streets.
“Maltia City Inn.” Rose read the small sign hanging from the door. “Thank goodness we’ve made it at last.”
; “Do we have enough money to stop for the night?” Ethan asked.
“We should,” Theo spoke up. “The sisters from the city’s cathedral assured us the owner was very charitable toward tourists.”
Ethan groaned. “Good. I just want to rest. We’ve been walking on sand, climbing up and over a mountain, and waltzing through the woods all day.”
Rose knew Ethan was tired, but he was still trying to be strong. He hadn’t mentioned the previous nights, when sleeping on the sea-tossed ship had proven nearly impossible.
She turned to see Sophia, sleeping peacefully as Theo carried her on his back. Mary even yawned, her body slumping slightly as she perched on Philip’s shoulder. “Philip?” Rose asked.
“Theo’s correct. We should have enough.”
“Oh, sweet relief,” Mary muttered. “I’d love to have a proper bed tonight.”
“Don’t get your hopes up, Mary. Let’s go in and see what they have,” Rose warned.
As they walked into the inn, Rose felt a surge of gratitude as the warmth of fire washed over her. While the sun had been kind during the day, the coldness of night had blanketed the rest of the island with a salty, chilly breeze.
“Welcome.” A man appeared at the door. “Can I help you?”
“Hello,” Rose greeted. “We were going to book some rooms for ourselves and a small guard.”
The innkeeper, an older man with flecks of silver in his hair, nodded. “It’ll be a shekel a night, for each of you,” he said. “That’ll take care of you and your guard.”
“Do you take Rhonian money?”
“Rhonian?” The man’s eyes sparkled with a suspicious gleam. “You’re from the country of Rhone?”
“Yes.” Rose decided from his tone it was best not to mention she was its princess. “Is there a problem with that?”
“No, not at all. But not many visitors come from Rhone. Haven’t had one stay here at all since the Rose Ruby incident,” the innkeeper told her. “But I suppose it has been nearly thirty years since that.”
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