We all stared at her in confusion. “The pea, Mother?” asked Max tentatively.
Queen Eleanor looked around at us all and sighed. “My godmother gave me a pea to put beneath the mattress of the visiting princesses. She said that only the right one would feel it. You remember the first morning of Princess Ava’s visit. She complained of a lump in the bed.” She looked around at us again. “I can see you all think I’m crazy but it’s the reason I was so supportive of the engagement.”
“Perhaps she was just feeling the loose spring?” I suggested tentatively and found all the confused looks directed at me. “You did bring the mattress back from the Winter Castle, didn’t you?” I asked the queen.
Queen Eleanor nodded dumbly but Marie still looked confused. “You know,” I said, turning to her, “the loose spring in the mattress on the princess’s bed.”
“I didn’t feel any loose spring,” said Marie blankly.
“Oh.” Now I was confused. “I assumed you must have been too polite to mention it. I didn’t mention it myself because I’d just been lecturing Max on polite behaviour.” I threw him a reminiscent smile and he grinned in return. “I meant to say something to Mrs Pine about it but completely forgot.” I shrugged. “It must have been the spring Princess Ava felt and not the pea, it’s the only explanation.”
A cough reminded us that Jonas was still in the room. “I was involved in Matthias’ debriefing,” he said and was then interrupted while we explained Matthias’ role in the conspiracy to Nate, Felix, Lily, Sophie, Marie and the Liltons. Explaining about Matthias meant explaining about Rangmere’s attempts to destabilise Arcadia with their fake bandits. It took a long time before everyone subsided back into silence.
Jonas, who had been patiently waiting, continued. “Yes, indeed, Rangmere had placed men wherever they could cause trouble and unrest. Even as we speak, the Intelligence Chief is in the process of uncovering them all. And, as I said, I was involved in Matthias’ debriefing. Apparently Claud was spying in the woods when her majesty met with her godmother.”
There was another interruption as we explained Claud to those who hadn’t been at the Winter Castle.
“Claud reported the conversation to his Rangmeren employers. Given this, it seems likely that Princess Ava was lying altogether about feeling something in the bed.”
Another round of exclamations was interrupted by the queen. She was ignoring the ruckus around her and was staring at me.
“I had the pea placed under the mattress in the Princess Room at the Winter Castle,” she said. “I was too eager to test it to wait until our return to Arcadie. I tested the bed myself. There were no loose springs. I could feel no bumps at all. And the beds are always tested after they are carried between residences. Mrs Pine reported no damage to the bed when it arrived in the city.
“But Alyssa definitely felt something,” said Mathilde. “I remember she mentioned it to me when we were discussing the mattresses being transported back to Arcadie.”
“Then it must have been the pea she felt,” said Queen Eleanor, regarding me with wide eyes.
“I don’t understand,” I said, “I’m definitely not a princess, true or otherwise.”
“No,” said Queen Eleanor, faintly, “but it seems you’re the right bride for Max.”
There was a moment of stunned silence and then pandemonium broke loose. Mathilde and Helena exclaimed in delight and Lily and Sophie began to dance around, yelling, in a very improper way for two princesses, “You’re going to be our sister! Alyssa’s going to be our sister!”
Marie just smiled but Nate slapped Felix on the back and said, “Tough luck, old fellow.” Fortunately Felix seemed entirely undisturbed and was actually grinning as broadly as the girls.
“I saw it coming from the beginning,” he replied, “I just thought Max was acting like an idiot and needed a bit of prodding.” He seemed very pleased with his claimed foresight.
All of this I ignored.
My gaze was fixed on Max whose eyes blazed with the same joy that flooded me. In two strides he was in front of me and had swung me up into his arms. I clung to him as he twirled me around in joyful abandon. He finally set me back on my feet and leaned down to press his lips to mine. The laughs and cheers of our friends and family swirled around us and I felt certain my heart would burst with happiness.
Of course, it didn’t burst. It kept right on beating.
It beat away happily as a new engagement was announced to the kingdom. The news was greeted almost universally with pleasure. Lady Marissa never quite recovered from the shock but she was in the minority.
It beat on as my family arrived from the forest to grace our wedding with their presence.
And it beat particularly fast as I walked down the white carpet one last time, my eyes fixed on two spots of blue shining above a tall, white and gold figure.
It beat with joy as I snuggled inside my husband’s arms as we honeymooned in his hunting lodge, deep in the woods.
And it beat on as news trickled in from all over the kingdom about the spectacular early harvest.
Queen Eleanor was gracious enough to credit us with the change in the kingdom’s fortunes but I suspected her own, newly restored, true love had a little something to do with it as well.
Note from the author:
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The adventures of the Four Kingdoms continue in The Princess Fugitive: A Reimagining of Little Red Riding Hood. Turn the page for a sneak peek!
Happy reading! Melanie
Assassin
Moonlight shone through several tall windows, illuminating the large empty room and the lone man slowly pacing its length. He was tall and broad shouldered and he wore his strength easily, like a well-fitted cloak. He made it all the way across the room and back before suddenly raising his head and peering towards a door hidden on the opposite wall.
A second figure appeared and moved swiftly to intercept the first. He was shorter but a hidden menace lurked behind the taut grace of his movements.
“Is everything ready?” asked the waiting man, his voice low and deep.
“It is. My men are in place.”
The tall man nodded and there was a moment’s silence. The new arrival shifted his weight in a subtle gesture of unease.
“What is it, Joran?” asked the tall man quickly, although he kept his voice quiet. “The plan is perfect.”
“Of course. We will succeed. Have I ever failed?” The unease was in his voice now, though. “Nothing can go wrong. Unless…” he trailed off, apparently afraid to voice his concern.
“Unless what?” asked the tall man, raising his voice slightly with impatience.
There was another pause.
“Unless there’s…an intervention.”
“An intervention? Oh, a godmother? Is that your worry?” The tall man gave a sharp bark of quickly stifled laughter. “You can relax in that case. There hasn’t been a godmother in Rangmere for nearly twenty years.”
“You’re right, as always,” said Joran. “But they are known to favour princesses.” He directed a significant look at his companion.
“You of all people should know that things are not always as they seem,” replied the first. “Godmothers help deserving princesses. There may have been a godmother at Princess Ava’s Christening but there’s a reason the kingdom hasn’t seen one since.
“Ava isn’t the damsel-in-distress,” he continued. “She’s the wolf. There will be no godmother to aid her, I can promise you that.”
“Then we
are ready,” said Joran, “and only await your order.”
“Get it done.”
Chapter 1
Ava wasn’t sure what had woken her but something was definitely wrong. She almost never startled so suddenly into wakefulness. She held herself still, assessing the room without opening her eyes.
Only the light of the dying fire leaked through her eyelids and she could detect no discernible sound. But despite the absence of clues she felt utterly sure that a person loomed over her.
She sighed softly and twitched, using the movement to slide one hand under her pillow. Still the intruder remained motionless. Ava could guess why her unknown visitor had paused. She knew exactly what picture she presented, asleep in her gorgeous canopied bed. Her golden hair, perfectly curled, spread out across the pillow and her dark gold eyelashes rested gently against her perfect, rose-tinted cheeks. Her full lips parted softly, allowing the tiniest glimpse of her straight, white teeth.
Her grandmother had told her that when she slept she looked like an angel and she suspected she also looked younger than her true age of eighteen.
Innocent and beautiful. Enough to make anyone pause. The effect was no accident, of course. Her father had taught her that her looks were her greatest weapon.
“Never was there a truer-looking princess than you, my Ava,” he had told her as she sat on his knee as a girl. “Your face alone will disarm any opponent.”
The memory of his words brought a bitter sting. Her face had not been enough last summer. But she pushed the thought of Arcadia aside. Perhaps her face had not been enough then but apparently it was sufficient tonight.
As she snapped her eyes open, her hand slashed upward in one fluid motion. By the time she had assimilated the identity of the intruder, the tip of her knife had already penetrated his ribs. She felt a detached pride at the steadiness of her hand and her well-judged aim. But this feeling was soon overridden by betrayal.
“Joran.” She now sat bolt upright in her bed. The man had dropped to his knees, his own knife falling into the soft carpet without a sound. He gripped the hilt of the blade protruding from his chest with both hands but didn’t attempt to remove it.
He made no reply to his name but looked up and met her eyes. A grudging respect showed through the grimace on his face.
“You called me a fool once,” he said, his words laboured. “It seems you were right.”
“I told you then, I’m always right.” Ava was glad to hear her voice come out steady and light. She wasn’t squeamish but she kept her eyes firmly on his face, away from the blossom of blood spreading across his shirt.
“Ah, but you weren’t right that time, were you?” he asked, mockery in his voice. She stiffened, still not used to the knot of tension she felt at any reminder of Arcadia.
Still her voice remained steady as she replied. “It seems we were both liars on that occasion. I seem to remember you assured me of your loyalty. And yet here we are.”
Joran was sagging now and Ava could no longer ignore the blood that seemed to be everywhere. She felt her stomach churn and had to call upon her not inconsiderable will-power to keep it in place.
Softly the man crumpled onto the carpet and she steeled herself to lean over the edge of the bed. His eyes inched open and slowly focused on her.
“My loyalty,” he paused as he drew in a burbling breath, “always lay with whoever has the power.” His voice trailed off and this time his eyes closed and didn’t open again. A thin trail of blood seeped out of the corner of his mouth and his chest stopped moving.
Ava sat frozen, watching for signs of life. None came. She slid across the bed and slipped out the other side. Her bare feet sank into the carpet and she moved silently across the room. Stopping by the fireplace, she reached towards the bell-pull and then paused. Her hand moved instead to pick up a candelabra from the mantelpiece and light it from the fire.
Her thoughts churned but her face remained still, giving no hint of her emotions. This was another weapon taught to her by her father and the lesson was so ingrained that she practiced it even now, alone in her room in the middle of the night.
She was glad her father wasn’t in the room for many reasons. For one, he was one of the only people still able to read the minute changes in her face and she suspected he wouldn’t like what he saw. While her face remained still, her mind was seething. Her thoughts kept circling back to the corpse behind her and she knew her father would disapprove of this lack of control.
He had trained her to keep her mind sharp and ordered at all times. He had trained her to be effective and merciless. She admitted to herself now that he had also trained her to be a killer. She knew, somewhere in the back of her mind that she had been responsible for many deaths. Strange, she thought now, how different it is when my own hand did the killing. I didn’t expect that.
For some moments she dwelt on this thought until horror and self-disgust began to stir within her. As soon as she recognised these emotions she thrust the thought away, burying it deeply, far from her consciousness. She knew she couldn’t banish the thought entirely, but I’ll deal with it later, she decided. Even as she did so, she felt a pang of guilt. Her father would be disgusted at her weakness.
This knowledge brought her back to the far more important reason she was glad of his absence. This was the unwelcome realisation that had caused her to move her hand away from the bell-pull. Joran had said his loyalty lay with the power. Once that had meant her but obviously his loyalties had shifted. And here in Rangmere there was only one power.
She had been waiting all winter to discover the consequences for her failure over the summer. She hadn’t expected such a drastic response but perhaps she should have. Her father had never countenanced failure. The only real surprise was that he had taken this long to act.
Ava saw no choice but to flee. Immediately.
Her face hadn’t changed as she processed these thoughts but with the decision came a new determination that showed only in her eyes and a small tightness around her mouth. She turned away from the fire and moved quickly to a tapestry hanging against the side wall.
She brushed the material aside, revealing a small wooden door. She opened the door without knocking but didn’t step through.
A small stone chamber stood exposed. A single candle burned in the room revealing a cot, a chest and a small washstand. A tall figure lay sleeping in the bed but at the sound of the opening door he sat up. In one quick movement he slid out of bed, facing the far wall. As he moved, he seized the hilt of a naked sword lying by the side of the cot. He stared at another door but it remained firmly closed.
Ava cleared her throat quietly and the man swung around. She gestured for him to enter her room but he hesitated. Ava had seen Hans in many different situations but couldn’t remember ever seeing him surprised before. And he certainly never hesitated.
But then she had never invited him into her room before, either. She sighed and gestured again before turning and walking back towards her fireplace.
His feet moved as silently as her own but she sensed him following her across the carpet. After a moment she heard the sharp hiss of an indrawn breath. She knew without looking that he had cleared the end of the bed and seen what lay on the other side of it. She turned and silently watched him change course.
He knelt beside the dead man and briefly placed two fingers on the man’s neck. His observant gaze moved from the hilt of her own knife, still protruding from Joran’s chest, to the abandoned knife on the carpet.
It was one of the things Ava liked best about Hans – she never needed to explain things to him.
“Forgive me, Your Highness,” he said, his head bowed and voice heavy.
“For what?”
He looked up at that and although it was hard to read his eyes in the candlelight she thought they held relief.
“It is my job to guard you and it would appear that tonight, at least, I have failed.” There was a strange hardness in his voice that she couldn’
t quite read.
“There are only two entrances to my room and you have faithfully guarded the one entrusted to your keeping. The other entrance is locked and guarded from without by my father’s loyal guards.” She left the rest of the thought unfinished.
The hardness in his voice earlier was nothing to the expression that transformed his face as he pondered her words. His eyes set like granite.
She couldn’t repress a shiver.
He seemed startled by her small movement and his eyes softened and focused on her face, assessing.
It took all of her willpower not to blush with embarrassment. Having been with her so long, he was one of the few who understood how shaken she must be to have betrayed herself with the involuntary motion.
She spoke quickly and softly, attempting to recover her poise and sense of control. “We must leave the castle now, tonight. Is there anything you need to pack that isn’t in your room?” She gestured towards the hidden doorway which still stood open.
Hans shook his head once, sharply. His own training helped him keep his face steady but the training of a guard did not compare to that of a princess. Not in Rangmere.
To someone who knew him as well as she did, the shock was painted across his face.
“You are a loyal and skilled guard, Hans,” she said with a sweet smile, “but even you cannot protect me against an entire kingdom. We have no other choice but to leave.”
She produced the smile without conscious thought. Manipulation came as naturally to her as breathing.
But Hans seemed untouched by it, which was another reason she liked him. He was one of the few who never seemed affected by her beauty.
Her father had taught her how to influence those around her even as she learned her first words. She clung to the sense of control manipulation gave her. And yet, at the same time, she liked knowing that there was one person unaffected by her skills. She had never stopped to consider the strangeness of this dichotomy. Another thought to be pushed down, to be left for another day.
The Princess Companion: A Retelling of The Princess and the Pea (The Four Kingdoms Book 1) Page 29