The Loveless Princess

by Lilian Bodley

  "How long ago was this?" Anette asked, closing her hand around the flower tightly. Was it the man Falman had mentioned?

  "Oh, a few years, I believe. The same young man who gave me the dagger. He said he had never felt desire and it made him feel so alone."

  "I can understand," Anette said softly, feeling the silken petals of the flower brushing against her palm.

  Aurora nudged and snorted, and Anette rested a hand against her neck. "Thank you so much," she said, tucking the flower into her hair behind her ear.

  The lady smiled. "That looks lovely. Gold is your color."

  Anette thanked her again for the flower and started to climb back onto Aurora.

  "Just a moment, Highness," the lady said suddenly. "You're going north, correct? Do you have a cloak to wear?"

  Anette shook her head, and the lady clucked her tongue. She picked up a bolt of brilliant red fabric that looked heavy and warm. Holding the scissors expertly, she cut through the fabric, gold blades flashing. Anette sat still, feeling awkward as the lady measured her with one eye and began to sew.

  In a surprisingly short amount of time, the lady set down her needle and scissors, holding up a cloak made from the brilliant red cloth.

  "Come here, then." she said, inspecting the hem of the hood. "You'll freeze without a cloak up north."

  Anette slid down from Aurora's back again, shyly walking up to the lady and taking the cloak from her. It was soft and heavy, and when she fastened it around her neck and slipped on the red hood, she realized that she'd been cold. She relaxed into the warmth, and the lady nodded satisfactorily and returned to her chair beneath the maple tree.

  "I wish you all the luck in the world, Highness," she said, picking up a bolt of sheer orange silk. "Thank you again for the scissors."

  Anette nodded, unable to speak for the lump forming in her throat. She opened her mouth to see if there was another flower inside. When nothing more happened, she climbed back onto Aurora, her new cloak lying comfortably around her. She slapped the reins on Aurora's neck, and the mare started to gallop. The lady waved cheerfully, and Anette waved back until the road curved and she couldn't see her anymore.

  She felt freer having said out loud to another person that she didn't love anyone. And there was a faint hope in the back of her mind that she would meet the man Falman had told her about. Tucking the flower into her hair next to her crown, she urged Aurora onward, where the pine trees that stayed green all year round were becoming visible in the distance.

  *~*~*

  The further north they went, the colder and stronger the wind grew. Snow began to fall softly as they walked between the first two big pines. Anette's breaths frosted in the air. Aurora's hooves crunched on the snow underfoot, leaving a trail behind them. Anette wrapped her cloak around her tight and held her body close to Aurora's back to try and keep warm. There was no sign of life anywhere. She lost track of how long she had been traveling, slowly rocking back and forth on Aurora's back as she plodded on. Falman's bracelet bit into her skin, and her fingers were white and painful to the touch. She had never been so cold or so tired. If she hadn't been given the cloak, she surely would have frozen to death days ago.

  She didn't realize she had fallen asleep until Aurora nearly threw her from her back. Anette jerked awake, grabbing at the reins with stiff, numb fingers.

  "Aurora!" she scolded, letting go of the reins painfully and blowing on her fingers to warm them. How long had she been asleep?

  Aurora pawed the ground impatiently. Anette rubbed her eyes, checking to make sure nothing had fallen. Her crown was tucked away in the saddle bag, and the tiny yellow flower was still safe in her hair. Despite the days that had passed since she had received it, the flower remained fresh and bright.

  "Alright, Aurora," Anette said, taking up the reins again, urging Aurora forward. "I won't fall asleep again."

  Aurora snorted, her breath frosting white in the freezing air like a great cloud. She trotted forward, the snow crunching underneath her hooves, the only sound besides the swirling of the wind. Anette had to fight the urge to sleep again. She pulled the hood farther over her head, breathing onto her hands to warm them.

  Finally, the pines parted. In sharp lines against the grey sky was the palace of black stone. It reached high into the sky, pitch black and shiny, with a single purple flag flying from the tallest spire.

  Aurora stopped just before the gate. Anette couldn't take her eyes off the palace. She was wide awake now and no longer cold. Her chest felt hollow. Finally, she'd reached palace. This was where she would find Prince Everett.

  She wished she still had the scissors. How would a tiny flower protect her against whatever was in the palace?

  Anette slid off Aurora's back, shivering as her feet fell through the snow and sank several inches. She had promised Falman she would find Prince Everett. It wasn't right of her to turn back now, just because she was scared. Aurora nosed her shoulder, and Anette gave her a shaky smile. She pulled her crown out of the saddlebag. She would look like a princess, even if she was shivering with blue fingers and lips, covered in snow. Once her crown was secure on her head, she led Aurora through the gates, her feet crunching through the snow and her cloak dragging through the ice. Aurora shied nervously, but Anette tugged on the reins and kept walking.

  The moment she stepped through the iron gates, the world around her shimmered. All the air rushed out of her lungs, pain rippling through her body. She cried out, stumbling, and she fell into the snow. Somehow it seemed even colder inside the palace gates, the wind whipping around her fiercer than ever and blinding her with snow and ice, driving it down her collar and up her skirt.

  When the wind died down and she could see again, Aurora was gone. Anette picked herself up slowly, shaking uncontrollably from the cold. She called for Aurora, but the gate was shut fast, and Aurora nowhere to be seen. The black palace loomed over her, huge and threatening, like it was mocking her.

  Anette brushed her dress and cloak free of ice, checked for her crown, bracelet and flower, and took one last calming breath before she marched up to the palace doors. There was no time to search for Aurora, and she was not going to give up because she was cold or frightened.

  The doors, which were twice as tall as Anette and looked like they weighed two tons each, swung open silently as she approached. She entered slowly. Was she expected? Was the entire palace enchanted? As she stepped across the threshold, the doors swung shut again, and the noise of the wind and the icy cold disappeared. The inside was the same shiny black stone as the outside, the walls covered in purple and grey banners. The front hall was empty, with just a wide staircase and a huge chandelier with thousands of candles above her head. Anette stood just inside, standing still for a while as she stopped shivering. Inside was warm, but the air seemed stale.

  "Hello?" Anette called. The word echoed dully, and there was no response. She picked up her skirt and climbed the stairs. Her footsteps echoed loudly on the hard floor.

  She hadn't considered what state she would find Prince Everett in once she reached the palace of black stone. As she climbed, she realized she should have given it some thought.

  At the top of the stairs was a glass coffin, and inside lay Prince Everett.

  She reached it and pressed her hands against the smooth glass, unable to find a latch or a handle to open the lid.

  Prince Everett was bare chested, his wedding ring resting on top of his folded hands. She pounded against the lid, trying to break the glass or to wake him. He didn't move, although there was a faint puff of air from his slightly open mouth that clouded the glass in front of him.

  Anette slumped forwards over the lid. He was alive. If she could just break the glass of the coffin and bring him to Aurora, she could return to Estar. "Everett?" she said, pounding her palm against the glass. "Can you hear me? Wake up!"

  She stopped as she felt someone watching her. She stood and turned, standing protectively in front of the coffin as she faced forward.
A young man smiled at her, fiddling with the edge of his purple cloak. His eyes, a brilliant blue, searched her face carefully.

  "Hello, Princess Anette," he said in a deep, soft voice. "I see you've found your husband."

  "Are you the owner of the palace?" Anette asked, shifting uncomfortably.

  "That I am. My name is Allan. At your service, Your Highness." He bowed low, his cloak sweeping the ground.

  Her chest felt tight suddenly. "Do you know a stable boy from Estar named Falman?"

  He smiled brightly. "Falman! How is he doing? I haven't spoken to him since I left Estar."

  "He's fine," Anette said uneasily. Something about Allan was deeply unsettling. His smile was warm and friendly, but he looked tired and angry. There were shadows under his bloodshot eyes, and he looked like he hadn't eaten or slept in days. His hair was shaggy and unkempt, and he just looked tired.

  "That's fantastic to hear. He was a good friend of mine." He looked at the coffin, exhaling through his nose. "He must be frantic however, with his Highness missing. They are still in love, after all." A chill washed over Anette as he glanced back at her. "He couldn't have taken the news well."

  "News?" Anette asked, pressing herself against the coffin.

  "The news of your and Prince Everett's marriage, of course! How would you feel if your love was to be married to another?"

  "I wouldn't know," she replied. "I've never loved anyone, never felt any desire to be with someone."

  He looked down his nose at her. "That's what I suspected. You were upset at the wedding ceremony, weren't you? You didn't want to be married, but you had no other choice."

  She tried to interrupt, but Allan continued, his voice rising with each word. "You were so unhappy and angry, and I thought you were like me! When you told Prince Everett to disappear, I thought you would be happy if he did! So I took him and put a spell on him, so that he would stay here forever, and you would never have to be with him again. I thought you would be happy then!

  "But here you are, rescuing your dearest husband. You really are in love with him, aren't you? You've been lying about your real feelings. You aren't like me at all. You're just like everyone else, who thinks I'm broken and wrong because I don't love anyone." He sneered at her, his face red with anger. "You were just leading Prince Everett and King Samuel on. You're just like all the other people, only interested in one thing."

  "You've been watching me?" Anette demanded, hot fury flashing within her, overpowering the fear and apprehension. He had been watching her, when King Samuel had nearly ...

  "Of course. From the moment you left Estar," Allan said, interrupting her thoughts. "I felt you coming north, and I knew it was because you're in love with Prince Everett. You want to be with him, as husband and wife." His voice broke with emotion, but Anette wasn't sure if it was it anger or something else.

  "You're not the same as me at all." He snapped, and Anette felt herself crumple. Everything caved in. Maybe she wasn't the same. Maybe she was lying to herself.

  But then she glanced back at Prince Everett, and she steeled herself. She knew who she was. And she wasn't in love with Prince Everette. She wasn't in love with anyone. She wouldn't be. It wasn't her.

  "You're wrong!" Anette shouted at him, balling her fists and stamping her foot against the black stone floor. "I am like you! I never wanted to marry Prince Everett, or to be as close to a person as I was with King Samuel. I don't love anyone. I don't feel desire. I'm here to rescue Prince Everett for Falman! Not for me!"

  "Then why didn't Falman himself come?" he demanded viciously.

  "Because this was my fault! Just because I don't love Prince Everett, doesn't mean Falman should be alone. I'm here because I said something wrong, not because I'm in love with Prince Everett."

  Allan stared at her for a long time without a word. Anette glared back, refusing to back down. She no longer felt cold. Anger burned hot at the accusation she was lying.

  "I'm the same as you," she said again, breaking the silence, pleading Allan to see reason. "I would never lie about this." Her voice cracked.

  He slumped forwards suddenly, his mouth twitching into a faint smile. He was quiet, and then he spoke, his voice soft. "What I am saying to you?" he wondered aloud. "This is exactly what I was told by my family when I told them I felt no desire to be with someone or to love someone."

  "Then why do you say it to me?" she demanded. "You know how painful it is to hear such things!"

  He looked up at her. "Aye, I know how painful it is. That's why I left. I went north, to find someone who felt the same as me. I met many people, learned many things... I learned magic up here, from an old wizard. For a while I was living here with another young man." He straightened. "And of all the people that I met, the one lesson they all had in common was that everyone lies."

  "I'm not lying!" Anette shouted.

  A strange look came over his face slowly. "We'll see about that."

  He snapped his fingers, the sound echoing loudly. A strong ripple of air spread out, hitting Anette like a punch to the stomach. She doubled over, coughing. Allan laughed, walking up to her and offering her his hand.

  "Apologies, Your Highness. Are you all right?"

  She stood on her own, glaring at him. Allan smiled broadly, his blue eyes gleaming.

  Next to him stood a beautiful girl with silken hair the color of the sun and hazel eyes like those of a deer. She was wearing very little clothing, all of it the same scarlet red as her lips. She looked at Anette and winked, kissing the air.

  On the other side of Allan stood a handsome man, his hair a warm shade of brown and his eyes sparkling green. He wore only pants, which fit him very tightly. He too winked at Anette and crossed his muscular arms.

  Anette recoiled. Why were they here? They reminded her of King Samuel. She hugged herself tightly to protect herself, stepping back away from Allan and the two on either side of him.

  "What do you think?" Allan asked her. "This is what people deem attractive, is it not? Are these two not perfect for inspiring love or desire?"

  "Why are they here?"

  "Do you feel anything towards either of them? Both of them?" The girl giggled as the man walked around Allan and slipped the shoulders of her top down. He pressed his mouth against her neck, and Anette looked directly into Allan's blue eyes. He was focused on her. She could see him bristle, tensing up as he stood next to them. He was just as uncomfortable as she. He was so scared that she was lying about her feelings, he was going too far to test her.

  "I feel nothing. If you are trying to test me, I already told you. I am the same as you. You don't have to be suspicious."

  "You're a liar. There's no one else like me."

  "Please, stop!" she said, panic mounting in her throat as the girl's top slipped to the floor. "I'm not lying to you! I promise, I'm the same as you. I know how you feel. I don't feel any desire. I promise you, I know how you feel!"

  She inhaled deeply, closing her eyes, and when she opened them again, the room was empty apart from her, the coffin, and Allan. He was staring at the ground.

  He started sobbing. He held his hands to his face and cried, loud sobs and gasps escaping. There was no sound apart from him and the incessant howling from the wind outside. "I'm sorry." He sobbed, wiping his eyes as tears streamed out. "I'm sorry I did all this to you. I just wanted… I lived with a man who lied to me before. He said he was the same as me, and I believed him. But then he made me… " He broke down sobbing again, hugging himself as he shook.

  Anette reached out, touching his shoulder softly. He froze at her touch and looked up at her with his tear stained face. His face was white and thin, his eyes even redder. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have treated you that way."

  She hugged him, the gesture as awkward and hesitant as the hug she had given Falman when he was crying over losing Prince Everett. He hugged her back, crying onto her shoulder. "I'm sorry," he said over and over.

  "It's alright, really," Anette reassured him. "It wa
s wrong, but I understand why you did it." She shuddered at the memory of King Samuel. If something worse had happened to Allan… She pushed the thought out of her mind. She didn't want to think of it. She waited until Allan pulled away from the hug on his own, wiping his eyes on his sleeves and hiccupping.

  "You really came to rescue Prince Everett for Falman?" he asked.

  "I promised him I'd bring Prince Everett back."

  He chuckled. "If only I had known you before I left home. I never imagined there would be another person who felt the same as me. How that would have helped me in Estar."

  "I feel the same." She smiled. "The days before my wedding were awful. My mother was so excited I was going to be married. She told me that once I was married, I would be happy forever."

  "I still wonder every day why everyone thinks only love can bring happiness."

  "Exactly!" Anette said triumphantly. It was amazing, to talk with another person just like her, to rage about how strange everyone's obsession with love and desire were.

  "If only I had met you before."

  "You shouldn't have built your palace so far north."

  Allan laughed. "I suppose not. But perhaps I will return to Estar with you, if you will permit it, Your Highness."

  "I would be honored," she replied. He wiped his eyes again, sniffling. She turned to the coffin, where Everett still slept soundly. She wasn't going to kiss him, but she was prepared to slap or poke him until he woke. Beside her, Allan didn't move. She frowned. "Is there a lock?"

  He shook his head, pulling at his collar uncomfortably. "The lock is not the problem," he said finally. From his pocket, Allan pulled a small bag and tilted the contents into his hand. Anette's wedding ring tumbled out. He gave it to her, his fingers icy cold and clammy. "The key is your ring. I took it from you so you really would no longer be married, but I decided to use it as the key. I thought it poetic. There's a groove in the center of the lid, just there."

  She took it gently, bending and pressing the ring into a circular groove along the edge of the lid. The coffin opened with a soft pop and a hiss of air.