by Jenni James
“Hmm…” she mumbled into his jaw, her sweet breath electrifying the skin on his neck, “When you say it so gently and with such sincerity, I begin to believe anything is possible.”
He inhaled sharply as she leaned up on tiptoe, just a slight bit, and kissed the underside of his jaw. “My Queen, I must pull away. But you are making it so very hard to do so.”
“Then do not.” She kissed his jaw again, and smiled when his breathing went ragged, still he did not move away. “It is good to know I am not alone in this.”
“Alone?”
“The way you make me feel whenever you are near.”
“You mean like this?” He skimmed his nose down her cheek to capture her jaw with his mouth.
Grasping his shirt, she nearly lost her balance as her knees went weak.
He instantly pulled back and held her waist, supporting her. “Are you well? Did that harm you?”
“I—I, uh…” Aleyna’s lashes would not stop fluttering with her breathing so erratic as it was.
“Aleyna, is it happening again?” he asked quickly.
“I—what? Is what happening?”
“Are you seeing the visions?”
Her eyes swam before him, her jaw tingled so much it felt as though her nerve endings were humming. “I—no. I am just feeling you.”
“Me?”
“Yes.”
Confused, he paused a second until he understood what she was saying. “Oh my dear girl, if this is how delightful you become now, what will it be like when my lips finally touch yours?”
Her eyes focused in on his, as she whispered, “Magical.”
A deep voice in the doorway interrupted them. “It is true. You two are connected in a way no other beings on earth can be.”
They turned to see Ezralon, his hooves clopping softly into the kitchen.
“I suggest you remove yourself from her now, boy. This morning has been good for her, she needed this—her soul needed to feel this—but it is time to step back. Soon she will be yours always.”
“No…” she protested as Darién stepped away, his hands following the path of her hair, until dropping the union completely and watching her become transparent and unrecognizable again.
“My Queen, do not be too forward in your readiness to show this man your love for him. It is not assuming for one of your royal rank to react this way. And you,” he turned to Darién, “you, son, are playing with fire—and yet, you know it. Why? Why allow your emotions control what you know to be best?”
The prince’s eyes caressed the queen’s features. “Because I am drawn to her—because, even though it may be wrong and I may be the worst thing for her, I cannot help yearning to want to change that. To find a way to be what she needs without harming her soul. Because I am not truly alive unless we are together, she does something to me no other woman has ever before.”
“Prince Darién, enough,” Ezralon replied gruffly. “You must withstand this—both of you—” he looked toward Aleyna. “You, my dear, do not understand all of the emotions racing through your heart right now, but as I mentioned to the boy here yesterday, you will still have each other. This supernatural bond—this incessant tugging—pulling you two together—it is real. It is there—and it will always be there. Now that you have touched, it will be forever. You, Darién and Aleyna, are destined for more than you know. But we will go into that much later this afternoon. For now, enjoy. See. Feel your hearts pounding and getting to know one another again, but do not touch.” His voice firm at the end.
“But why?” Aleyna asked, stepping forward. “I sense as though I have waited ages for him to come and now—now I cannot even hold his hand?”
“Patience little one, it will come—you will understand all—and you will be able to hold his hand for as long as your heart’s content, just wait. Wait. And you will understand why.”
Darién glanced around the barren kitchen and shook his head before admitting his own guilt. “I am sorry for my part of creating a more difficult situation between us. I did know better, and I am sorry.”
Ezralon snorted. “I am not certain you two cannot touch for long periods of time. I am only grateful—earnestly grateful—you did not kiss her as I requested, or all of this would have been lost. Including you both.”
She put her hands on her hips. “All of this shrouded intrigue…why is it everyone in this castle—my castle!—seems to realize more of what is going on than I do?”
“Aleyna, do not!” The unicorn walked toward her. “Do not question right now. Listen to me.” Silver eyes met blue. “Listen. Do not think. Do not overanalyze, or it will all begin coming back again. It is too painful for you at this time. You do not want to handle what it is you are being hidden from—just know this is all for your own good. My dear, I have loved you your whole life. You have accepted my counsel and advice since you were a little girl, do not allow your frustrations to overrule my advice. Keep your head clear. Enjoy what you have and do not question, or it will begin to piece itself together and Darién will die.”
The queen stared at Ezralon for a full minute, processing all he had said, all he would not say. She desperately needed answers, but to have the prince die because she was not ready for them did not seem like an option she was willing to explore at the moment. “Very well, I will try my best to quiet my mind and to allow for the day to be as peaceful as it has always been.”
“Good. Now come here and give your favorite unicorn a hug, I have missed you terribly.”
Aleyna laughed, remembering how long it had been and how she was finally seeing him again within her home—her excitement rushed forth and she clung to him as if it truly had been decades since she had hugged him last and not the few short months it must have been. “I have missed you too. Why does it seem so long since I have seen you last?”
His deep voice gruffly vibrated against her shoulder, “It is good to see you moving about and smiling and happy—it has definitely been too long since I have seen this side of you.”
Darién watched them for a few seconds before he comprehended that she was still in spirit form, even clinging to the unicorn like she was. He was amazed for a bit, until the words Ezralon spoke to him last evening, while she was asleep, began to unravel themselves and fully began to make sense.“
“You are the only one who can bring her back to her true form. You are the prince destined to awaken her; the enchantment will not be released through anyone else. Yes, it is painful for her to be near you—and remember again—yet, in a way that is your whole purpose for being here now. Why, the council all worked together to place in the minds of your friends to bring you back to her. She needs you, she must be ready—you must now be ready—or they would not have pulled you to her at this time. What I caution with, is that you heed my words and we all ease her into this gently or that which I have warned you of concerning Villeria will certainly come to pass.”
After Ezralon had made sure Aleyna was taken care of and answered as many questions as he could, the great miraculous creature filled the dining room with a feast fit for a king and allowed them all to finally eat their full. He then cautiously climbed up the grand staircase and used his incredible gifts to clean the main guest room and the mattresses that were brought in and saw that they were comfortably situated for the night.
It wasn’t ideal—the house was still exceedingly eerie and filthy, but at least they were given food and a clean bed to sleep upon.
Later that night, while the others were asleep, Darién had come back down to the unicorn’s makeshift bed of torn fabric within the drawing room, and spoken with Ezralon for hours—until he was finally given the full scope of all the terror his dear Aleyna had suffered before she was allowed to drift into sleep and forget it all.
His eyes linked with the unicorn above the cheerful queen’s head in the midst of her stark, dirty kitchen and the unspoken words of, “We will prevail,” silently resonated through them both.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
And it was aggravating.
Maddening.
Wholly exasperating.
For over thirty years she had been trapped within this ever-fueling capacity of boredom—simplicity—nostalgic waste—and she was sick of it. In fact, just the other day she had sworn to herself that if she were to live another horrendous thirty years in such a fashion, she might as well end her life now.
Urgh. Why did the putrid gel waste her time sleeping about in a dim-witted subterfuge of a world? Of all the mindless inane things to put her through!
And here Villeria was—the greatest sorceress of her time—trapped within a despicable bubble of her own. Why? “Why?!” she wanted to scream. Why must her power be limited to one curse at a time? She should have never made that covenant with the Dark Abyss to harness the most complete power known to man. Yes, that power was devastating, when one could use it—but now it crippled her from moving on.
No, she must wait to finish the curse of Aleyna’s family first. The one they signed their lives away with.
Curse Ezralon! That devious beast. How she loathed him. How dared he enchant the babe before she had a chance to witness the child’s beauty and power herself. She was the one entitled to everything in that castle—she was! Not him! And now that spineless unicorn hoped to use the gel against her. To trap her and bait her and destroy the most potent witch he had ever faced before.
Well, he could try. Villeria smiled. He could try with all of his might, but she seriously pitied the man who believed he was a match for her. She sat up.
The young girl was very powerful though—her aura was brilliant white—which indicated the ability for unmatched control. Oh, to have such a being in her charge. To mold her and train her into the glorious personage she could become! It was too magnificent to comprehend.
Villeria needed her. Desperately she wanted her.
Together they would be unparalleled as they conquered every kingdom in the world.
But no, no. The girl must be treated like a simpleton and kept prisoner within her own home.
“Like he is doing to me!” Villeria leant forward and hurled a wine urn against the elegant forest green striped wall. She stood and crossed to the spot where the fragile urn lay in pieces, wine trailing in dark shadows along the patterns. Picking up a sharp fragment, she slid it slowly up her arm and back down again. The cool piece scratching the surface for a bit until she found a nice dark blue vein in her palm. She slammed the pointed edge into her hand and watched trance-like as the red sticky substance bubbled and oozed from her fingers to the marbled floor beneath.
Her eyes gleamed.
Ezralon and his little sleeping puppet were going to pay a handsome fee for the torment she had been forced to endure. As soon as the queen awakened—the games would begin anew.
And this time, there would be no survivors—but one—and she was not leaving without her.
***
After Ezralon provided a sumptuous breakfast, the group went their separate ways. It was decided upon the evening before that Humphrey and George would search the castle, especially among the dead servants they had stumbled across, and any old ledgers or documents written in support of the witch for clues to help them gain an advantage over Villeria—what methods she used, how much strength she had—how much power, etc.
Michael and Ezralon were to take care of the horses and travel the perimeter of the castle grounds and village to see what they could come up with, all the better to increase their advantage over the great force they would soon be facing. As well as seeing if there were any tools or weapons of any use left amongst the rubble and ruins.
Darién’s purpose would be to walk with Aleyna on a tour of the castle and allow her to open up gently and share what history she knew of the place. An opportunity to remind herself of who she was, as well as hopefully present him with a knowledge of perhaps the legend, the family, or anything else that may be of good use. However, he was under strict commands to not kiss the girl, or touch her overly much. He could only hope she was not too excited in her eagerness and seeming forgetfulness, like what she had shown over the breakfast table, to be near him and share her life—and then perhaps touch him first, which would certainly make it difficult for any prince to follow the rules then.
Aleyna, in her keenness to be with the prince, quickly skipped upstairs to fetch a light shawl while they traversed the older, more drafty parts of the castle. She paused a moment to glance in the looking glass above her washbasin and grinned at the happy girl who stared back at her. How long had she waited to feel this way about someone? To know that there was someone in her life who just might be able to love her in a way she had always dreamed of being loved and loving in return.
Skipping down the stairs, she met the handsome green-eyed prince at the bottom awaiting her.
“Well, hello, my queen.” He bowed low to her girlish giggle.
She stepped off the last step and did a jaunty curtsy of her own, before offering her transparent arm for the prince to take.
Darién silently gulped. She had clearly forgotten. Now what does one do in such a situation? Would it be wrong to hold her arm during the whole of the tour?
When he did not take the awaited arm straight away, which was highly discourteous, Aleyna became troubled—her ghostly brow furrowed as she took a half step back.
“Curse conviction,” he mumbled under his breath. There was no way he would allow this woman to feel less than worthy of being upon his arm. With his own outstretched he covered the gaff, by smiling a refined smile and asking sincerely, “No, your Majesty, would you allow me the honor of your arm? For there is nothing I wish for more at this moment.”
She glowed and answered, “Gladly,” while slipping her hand into the crook of his elbow.
He stood transfixed a bit and watched with such awe as she changed once again before him. So breathtakingly beautiful and so real. How could he have ever thought she was not worth the effort to save? His eyes traced her features fondly causing her to blush and glance away.
“Where would you like to go first?” Aleyna asked, attempting to break the maddening silence. My goodness, with the way he stared at her, how was a girl to concentrate on anything else?
“Perhaps a portrait gallery of some sort. Do you have one here?”
“It sounds like a wonderful plan. We have some of the finest portraits of my ancestors ever commissioned.”
“Perfect.” He took a step forward, before he became conscious of the fact he had no idea where he was going. “Though I fear you will have to lead the way.”
She chuckled, her eyes twinkling up at him. “Mayhap that would be best.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
ALEYNA LED HIM THROUGH a maze of filthy corridors, large banquet halls, entertaining rooms and the like. Each one in ruins and scattered about by debris, broken furniture, haphazard décor, as well as in some instances if the rooms were used the night of Villeria’s wrath—there were scenes of great carnage. Bones of the deceased lay agonizingly twisted upon the floor, some of their limbs removed and heaped in piles with all manner of blood stains throughout the place. It was extremely disturbing to witness the aftermath of such horror as Darién walked in, through, and around it all.
He would sometimes go to great lengths to step over the littered objects upon the floor and still appear as though he was merely strolling through the rooms as Aleyna chattered happily on about all the splendor she saw as they passed.
“Is this not one of the most elaborate vases you have ever seen?” she paused at an overturned side table and smiled up at him, there
was no vase to be seen.
“Yes, it is a stunning piece of work. Where did you acquire it?”
“My father was given this as a gift from a count in Italy who had received it from an Asian diplomat.” Her hand waved at the air in front of them. “The colors are striking, are they not?”
“Uh—very much so, and the design is spectacular, so unique.” He glanced down the large hallway and noticed a dusty pile of shattered pieces, more than likely it was the treasured vase. Too bad he could not examine the fragments to be able to speak knowledgably about the thing.
She clutched his arm. “Which of the three hand-painted pictures on it are the most moving?”
“Most moving? Uh…” he brought his hand up and stroked his chin, to buy him a few more minutes. “All three are very beautiful in their own right. So, uh, decidedly feminine and elegant.”
“Feminine?” Aleyna titled her head to the side, examining the air. “I do not think anyone has ever called it feminine before.” She leaned down, her face drawing closer to the invisible object. “Hmm…”
Darién coughed. “Well, perhaps feminine is too strong a word for it, perhaps I meant something more…uh, less feminine.”
She stood, her gaze met his as her brow furrowed. “Perhaps. I myself have never found paintings of medieval torture devices too feminine.”
His eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets. “No, no. You are quite right when you put it that way. I, uh—I do not know what I was thinking really.” He attempted a laugh—it came out sadly forced. “How silly can one get, really? Torture devices feminine, you must think me mad! Ha. Ha.” She seemed skeptical. “But you see—you see, my mother has always been fond of a good defense mechanism and so I did not think quite past her own fascinations. ”
“Truly?” Her eyes traced his features warily.
“Uh—yes.”
“Truly? Your mother is fond of defense mechanisms?”
“Of course!”