Apples and Princesses (The Tales and Princesses Series Book 2)

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Apples and Princesses (The Tales and Princesses Series Book 2) Page 12

by Aleese Hughes

I started away to prepare for the trip, but the boy stood still with his head cocked to the side.

  “Now!” I snapped. “Oh, and grab a few apples.”

  Chapter 22

  Ashborne was a tiny town, more a village than anything, but it was the closest to White Manor for miles. It was often where the servants went to pick up supplies, and many had friends and family there. It also was where Father’s beloved tavern, where he spent most nights, was located. I followed the serving boy as he pushed through the crowd. The smell of the common folk was putrid, almost like rotting fish.

  “The troupe is set up on the edge of the square!” Rothfus shouted to me over the noise.

  I merely nodded.

  “Citizens of Ashborne! Come one, come all! See the amazing powers of me, the Incredible Doran, right before your eyes!”

  The voice projected strongly to my ears from a reasonable distance. Rothfus leapt into a sprint, and I groaned, trying to catch up as I cursed his youthful energy.

  Once we reached the large tent set in the square, probably the residence for the troupers, a tall, athletically built man came into view. He danced around in the square flamboyantly, calling an audience to him. Most people ignored the ridiculous display, but a few curious observers trickled over.

  “The Incredible Doran!” he shouted again as he pulled a playing card from thin air.

  I grimaced. He was most likely just a trickster, and I had just wasted an entire day. Before I could turn to leave, however, he said something that piqued my interest.

  “Who dares to challenge my abilities? Give me a task! Send me your sick, your bald heads, your broken hearts… Ask your questions, know your futures!”

  A mischievous grin stretched across the man’s face, and his impossibly green eyes sparkled.

  “Sir?”

  A young woman with features too dull to be pretty approached the magician. She clutched the shoulders of an old man who seemed barely able to stand. Doran outstretched his arms invitingly.

  “Come, child,” he said. “What ails him?”

  “My grandfather was struck with a fever last night, and it has not broken.” The girl’s voice wavered uncontrollably. “His body isn’t strong enough to fight it. Please. He’s the only family I have left.”

  I found myself rising to the balls of my feet in anticipation to see what the “Incredible Doran” would do.

  Doran stroked the long, black beard on his face, deep in thought. He then began to nod, and the sparkle in his eyes shone even brighter.

  “I have just the thing!” he chirped.

  From behind his back, he pulled out a large waterskin. Now, playing cards he could hide in his sleeve, but a waterskin? Where could he hide such a thing? The thought gave me hope that he could provide what I came for.

  “Water I enchanted just a few hours ago!” he announced to the crowd. He showcased the waterskin like it was a prize horse up for auction. “Make him drink every last drop, and you will see a difference within a day.” He handed the skin to the young woman, and she placed a few coins into his palm. She tearfully thanked him as the two hobbled away.

  I sighed. That was hardly proof of the man’s abilities. I watched as a few more people came to him with their problems and narrowed my eyes at his proclaimed “fixes.”

  After the crowd dispersed and Doran started counting his money with an almost scary fervor, that’s when I made my move.

  “Will you wait for me here, Rothfus?”

  The boy started bouncing up and down. “Is it okay if I go talk to my friends, then come back?”

  “Sure,” I said less than warmly, waving him away. I was more focused on the task at hand.

  I shouldered the satchel full of nothing but juicy, red apples and strolled over to the magician.

  “The Incredible Doran, is it?” I lifted my chin with confidence and rolled my shoulders back.

  He didn’t even look up at me. “Show’s over, miss. Come back tomorrow.”

  “It’s Lady Snow to you,” I said. This time, instead of when I was Lady Isabella, this noblewoman I portrayed was really who I had become. So beautiful it was deadly, so strong it was intimidating. But like Lady Isabella, Lady Snow had a job to do.

  “Is it now?” He took the tattered hat off his head, placed his newly earned coins inside, and then slipped the hat back into place. He gave me a ridiculously exaggerated bow. “What can I do for you, Lady Snow.”

  The mocking tone he used with my title didn’t faze me. “You practice real magic?”

  “Who’s asking?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Me, of course.”

  He chuckled. “You’re incredibly stunning, you know that?”

  I tapped my fingers on my thigh impatiently. “I’m prepared to pay you very well if you help me.” I flitted my eyes about the area. “But we must talk in private.”

  Doran’s lips curled up into an even bigger smile than before, and he jumped high from one foot to the other.

  “Oooh, I’m intrigued!” he chirruped. “Step into my office.”

  He gestured dramatically to the flap of the tent blowing gently in the summer breeze. I raised an eyebrow.

  “Your office?”

  But he ignored me and skipped away to the entrance. I followed, not nearly as enthusiastically. The inside was much larger than the outside suggested, and it was filled to the brim with elaborate costumes. My eyes watered at the abundant smells of perfumes and theatre makeup. All eyes were on me, many curious, but most looked to me in contempt. There were about a dozen players, men and women alike, with piles of dramatic makeup upon their faces. My entrance halted the practice of lines and the applying of wigs. I flushed at the sight of a man in the back in nothing but his underwear, having not been costumed yet. He merely seemed amused by my embarrassment.

  Doran led me to a beautiful tapestry, elaborately designed with a sleeping lion in golden thread, much too expensive for a theatre troupe to own. But I wasn’t there to judge their livelihood and decisions. The magician pushed the hanging material aside and revealed a small table with crooked legs and two rusty, metal chairs.

  “Take a seat,” he said, pulling out one of the chairs for me.

  I obliged begrudgingly. The seat below me wobbled precariously. He sat across from me and clasped his fingers atop the table.

  “Now, how may I help you?”

  I opened my ears to listen from outside the tapestry and concluded that the players were making enough noise not to hear the conversation about to take place.

  “What do you know about poisoned apples?”

  The magician nearly fell from his chair, and he stared at me incredulously. “Who told you? Am I in trouble?”

  I frowned. “Uh—”

  “Was it Bavmorda? She threatened me the last time, you know!” The color was draining his face.

  “Bavmorda!” I exclaimed, then lowered my voice after remembering we weren’t alone. “I know her. She threatened you?”

  He let out a shaky breath. “Well, Bavmorda is something of a legend among those who practice magic. But I had a rather… unpleasant encounter with her not too long ago.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Were you the one she confiscated the apples from?”

  He nodded and gave a nervous chuckle. “She said I was causing a lot of issues, but I don’t see the harm in giving people poisoned apples. If a person wants to hurt someone else and doesn’t have a deadly apple, they’re just going to find a weapon anyway.”

  “That’s…” I paused, “interesting logic.”

  Doran then narrowed his eyes at me. “Did she send you?”

  I shook my head vehemently and gave him a charming smile. “Definitely not. I’m actually inquiring if you can provide me with this ‘poison.’”

  I heaved my bag of apples onto the table with a thud. The magician froze but then proceeded to laugh.

  I gritted my teeth together. “Will you help me, or not?”

  He placed his forearms on the table and leaned forwar
d. “What’s a pretty young thing like you going to do with poisoned apples?

  “That’s none of your business.”

  He gave me a smug smile, placing his booted feet on the table and leaning back in his chair.

  “It won’t be… with the right payment.”

  I rolled my eyes and dumped the entire contents of my coin purse on the table. He licked his lips eagerly and began counting the gold pieces.

  “Money’s no issue,” I said. “Now help me.”

  He pulled the bag of apples, along with the money into his arms.

  “Is two enough?” he asked.

  “I believe so.”

  Doran clutched two pieces of fruit, one in each hand, and began chanting words I couldn’t even begin to understand. His eyelids fluttered as his eyes creepily rolled to the back of his head. I turned my face away from the scene. After a few seconds, I directed my attention back to him as he placed the apples in front of me gingerly.

  “One bite will only put someone in a coma,” he warned.

  I nodded. “And more than that is lethal. I’m aware.”

  He chortled at my words. “Of course you are.”

  “Would you like the rest of the apples?” I didn’t wait for an answer as I dumped the remaining few in front of him. He threw his hands back, startled.

  “I don’t want to mix up the enchanted ones with the regular,” I said.

  After gathering my things, I was about to leave when a thought struck me.

  “Oh,” I said, retaking my seat. “What can you do about disguises?”

  Doran had already scooped up an apple and started munching on it as I spoke. “Like, a disguise for you?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Yes. Can you alter my appearance? Give me a spell, or something?”

  “Magic doesn’t work that way.”

  I watched in disgust as pieces of apple stuck into Doran’s thick beard. “How does it work then?”

  “You can’t put a spell on a person, per se. But you can enchant objects to affect people.”

  I rubbed my chin, deep in thought.

  “I could, if you will, give you a disguise by enchanting a couple more apples.” He picked another one up from the table and modeled it for me with a grin.

  My eyes lit up at the thought. “Could you? It could make me look completely different?”

  “For more money.”

  I groaned, but it was more like a growl. “I gave you everything I had with me. And it was a lot.”

  The man shrugged. “Do you have any valuable trinkets on you? A necklace perhaps?”

  My thoughts reeled as I patted myself down in search of something I could give him. I suddenly felt the cold hilt of Father’s dagger within one of my hidden pockets— a habit I picked up after living with the boys. I hesitated before pulling it out, but there really was no dire need for it. It only ever brought on painful memories, and I could always buy a new one.

  “Would this work?”

  I slowly pulled out the weapon and gently placed it into Doran’s palm. He studied it with a gleam in his eye. He stroked the leather handle and smiled as the steel blade glinted under the candlelight in the tent. He then quickly tucked it away and out of my sight, and it almost felt like any last connection to my father was tucked away along with it. But it wasn’t sad. It was like a burden was suddenly lifted off of my shoulders. I should’ve gotten rid of it long ago.

  Doran proceeded to grab another two apples in his hands and begin the spell, similar to before. It still made me uncomfortable to watch.

  “There,” he said, handing them to me. “You might want to draw on them, or something so you don’t accidentally poison yourself.”

  I nodded at the wisdom of his words. “How do they work?”

  “The more bites you take, the longer the disguise will last. But neither apple will give you any longer than a day.”

  “What will I look like?”

  He shrugged and laughed at an internal joke. “No idea.”

  Lines formed between my eyebrows. “Splendid,” I said dryly.

  I then nicked the two ‘disguise’ apples with a fingernail before placing them in the bag with the poisoned ones. Doran wiggled his fingers in an extravagant good-bye as I stood and strolled out of the tent.

  “I’m excited to see what price you pay!” he called after me.

  Price? I thought. Bavmorda said something like that, too… I chose to ignore the words, however. I had a job to do.

  Chapter 23

  I didn’t tell anyone I was leaving. The servants had managed without me before, and I was convinced they would take me back once again with open arms. But if everything went according to plan, I might never have to return.

  After a few days ride through uncomfortable rain and humidity, I was relieved to make it to my destination. I flipped the hood of my cloak over my head, not sure if people would recognize me as the fugitive I was. I briskly turned various corners of the city as quietly as I could. It was late enough that not a lot of people, if any, would be around. Once making it to the intended alleyway, I flicked my eyes about me, searching the night for any unwelcome spectators. Satisfied, I pressed the crumbling stone in front of me, and it clicked underneath my fingers. I stepped back as the entire wall slid back with a “whoosh.”

  The dining area was dark, lit only by the moon from outside, but I was left in the pitch dark as the hidden wall shut behind me. But the opening and closing of the secret entrance were loud enough to alert the boys. Within seconds, a rush of bare-footed steps reached my ears as the boys bolted down the corridor. Jacob and Ben each held a candle to light the way, but the others brandished a variety of weapons to overtake their intruder.

  “Hello, boys,” I said with a grin.

  All seven of them stood before me, weapon arms and jaws dropped in astonishment.

  “Don’t all greet me at once.”

  Looks of surprise quickly turned to anger as I was bombarded with questions and unflatteringly phrases no one should repeat. Arnold finally held his hand up to silence them all. They reluctantly obeyed.

  “What do you think you’re doing, Snow? After abandoning us like that?” Arnold’s nostrils flared, and his entire face turned a deep red.

  “It’s a long story,” I said.

  Every single boy, down to the last little twin, folded their arms in contempt.

  “You’d better start explaining, or we have no reason to not shred you to little pieces,” Patrick spat, his twin brother nodding in agreement. It was hard not to laugh at the threat from the five-year-old, but I still knew he was serious.

  I held up a finger and with the other hand, dug into the satchel hanging at my side. With a satisfied smile, I pulled up the string of the cloth bag I had placed in there just for that occasion. I grunted as I lifted the heavy bag, then threw it onto the floor. The drawstring flew open, and its contents spilled at the boys’ feet. All eyes grew wide at the sight of the gold and jewels I brought for them.

  “Is my wealth, something I’m willing to share, might I add, enough reason to keep me breathing?”

  No one replied, but the rush of hands pulling up the riches and the greedy little faces were enough of an answer. All boys but one were relishing in their newfound wealth. Arnold squinted at me suspiciously.

  “This is enough to travel to Lurid and then some!” Larry exclaimed.

  “What do you want, Snow?” Arnold said, ignoring his brother.

  I shrugged. “Nothing much. I just need somewhere to stay for the next week or so.”

  “Whatever for?”

  With a mischievous gleam in my eye, my smile grew bigger. “I have a wedding to attend.”

  All eyes were on me as we ate breakfast. It was weird to share a meal with the seven boys and not be overwhelmed by their rambunctiousness. Though I felt wildly uncomfortable by their silence, I kept my back straight and my focus on the bowl of eggs in front of me.

  “Where’s Nick?”

  As if they had been holding
their breaths, one boy after another exhaled. They seemed to be relieved of my initiative to start a conversation.

  “He’s been out hunting for the last couple days,” Jacob chimed in from across the table. Then, feeling satisfied with his contribution to the conversation, he pulled a book he was hiding from his lap and began to read.

  “He’s still around?” I asked, taking his words to mean they saw him often.

  Ben, two seats to the right of me, nodded. “He figured we’d benefit from an adult influence for a while.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “He’s taking care of you guys?”

  Arnold, sitting right next to me, balled up his fists. “No! He’s just helping us. Something you weren’t very good at.”

  “Oh.” I ignored the jab at me and continued shoveling the eggs into my mouth.

  “He’ll be back tomorrow,” the twins chirped excitedly.

  I almost started choking. “Really?”

  The last time I saw Nick had not been pleasant. He accused me of wrongdoing, and I yelled at him for controlling me. To be fair, he was, and I had no desire to see him again.

  Almost as if he was beckoned, each of us whirled around at the sound of the wall sliding back. Nick stood before us with a couple pheasants in his hand. His brown hair was disheveled, and his cheeks were hollow as if he hadn’t eaten in days. He didn’t seem to see me as he hung his bow and arrows on a hook in the wall and trudged his way to the table. And he still didn’t notice as he picked up a bowl, dished up some eggs for himself, then moved to sit alone by the hearth.

  The boys watched the huntsman in anticipated silence, waiting for him to see me. Arnold ruined their fun, however, by clearing his throat.

  “Nick,” he said. “You might want to see our visitor.”

  My breathing quickened as Nick’s head slowly lifted to make eye contact with me.

  “Hi, Snow,” he said.

  The boys sighed, disappointed with the less than dramatic greeting. I had to admit, I was somewhat annoyed by it myself.

  “Are you not going to say anything more than that?” I snapped.

  Nick nodded as he wiped some stray egg from his scruffy face. “I will. Let me eat first.”

 

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