The Princess Fugitive: A Reimagining of Little Red Riding Hood (The Four Kingdoms Book 2)

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The Princess Fugitive: A Reimagining of Little Red Riding Hood (The Four Kingdoms Book 2) Page 12

by Melanie Cellier


  She sucked in a horrified breath unable to believe that he would send her to her greatest enemies.

  “But, the Arcadian royal family hate me. And they have good reason to.”

  “Then you must go to them and ask their forgiveness,” said the High King calmly. “You must help them see the justice of your cause.”

  “I don’t know if I can do it,” she said, wishing she could have back the certainty and strength that had come with her old coldness.

  “You will not be alone,” said the High King and over his words, Ava heard the sound of another voice. It was desperate and anguished and it was calling her name over and over.

  She realised that her eyes were closed and when she opened them she saw the face of Hans, leaning over her as she lay on the ground.

  Chapter 14

  The first thing Ava registered was the relief on Hans’ face. The second was that she was back in the forest. Except there was moonlight again and the undergrowth seemed to have subsided to a normal density.

  “You’re alive!” There was lingering concern in Hans’ voice. “What happened to you? The forest was acting strangely - I couldn’t get through.” Ava could still hear an echo of his urgency and the sound triggered her guilt. It had been foolish and selfish to run away and cause him so much trouble. Instinctively she began to suppress the emotion and then she remembered. The wall was gone. For good or bad, she would have to face her emotions from now on. She waited a moment and was pleased when the guilt didn’t overwhelm her.

  “I’m sorry,” she said and now it was Hans who looked startled. She gave a wry chuckle. “That might be the first time I’ve ever said that to you,” she acknowledged. “But a lot has changed. Help me up and I’ll tell you all about it.”

  Gently Hans placed an arm behind her back and helped her into a sitting position. As soon as she was stable, he dropped his arm as if she was hot. Rocking back he squatted beside her and continued to rake her up and down with his eyes as if he didn’t quite believe she was safe, and was waiting for a wound to spring into existence.

  “I’m fine, truly,” she said to him. “Please sit back, you’re making me nervous.”

  Reluctantly he settled himself onto the ground, resting his back against a tree trunk, one leg stretched out in front of him. The other, he kept bent, poised to spring into action. She decided it was the best she could hope for.

  Drawing a deep breath, she launched into her story.

  “I don’t know quite how it happened, but I went to the Palace of Light.”

  Hans’ eyes sharpened but she ignored him and continued.

  “I saw the High King and he told me something.” She hesitated briefly but then pushed on. “It was Konrad.”

  Hans tilted his head in a silent question.

  “The assassin, it was Konrad. He killed our father and he sent Joran to kill me.”

  “That worm,” said Hans in an angry growl. “I’ve never trusted him – not with the way he treats you – but I’ll admit I never suspected him of something like this.”

  “No, no one did,” Ava agreed. “That’s why it was such a brilliant plan. He has all the sympathy of a grieving son and brother and the perfect excuse to tighten control over the kingdom. Apparently he got sick of waiting around for our father to die.”

  “It’s despicable!” Hans actually looked a little sick and Ava couldn’t disagree with him.

  “We can’t let him get away with it.”

  Hans started to nod his agreement and then paused, his eyes narrowing.

  “And what exactly does that mean, Princess?” he asked. “Because if you think I’m letting you get anywhere near your brother now…”

  “Hans,” Ava cut him off with a stern look. “You can’t stop me doing the right thing.”

  He raised his eyebrows at her and she flushed with embarrassment.

  “I told you a lot has changed,” she said and proceeded to fill him in on what had passed between her and the High King.

  “I wish you could have seen the palace,” she said at the end, “it was beautiful.”

  “I have seen it,” he said and she jerked her head towards him.

  “It is definitely a wondrous and enchanted place. I, too, travelled there and spoke with the High King but I saw no sign of you.”

  “And I saw no sign of you,” said Ava in amazement. “Clearly it is not a place one can reach by any normal means of travel. I understand now why my godmother laughed at me when I claimed I would find it.”

  “Yes,” agreed Hans. “The High King told me that the Palace of Light can only be reached through your deepest fears.”

  Ava considered this for a silent moment and then looked at Hans quizzically.

  “And what personal demon did you have to brave, Hans?” she asked.

  He looked away, gazing into the forest for so long that she thought he was refusing to answer.

  “There was a wall of thorns,” he said, finally. “And you were lying behind it. Dead or asleep, I couldn’t tell which. I hacked at the branches with all my might but it made no difference. Eventually I ran out of strength and despaired. And then, miraculously, the branches parted before me. But you and the forest were gone and instead I found myself on a grassy hillside beside a magnificent, shining palace.” His voice trailed off as he relived the incredible memory.

  “After I had spoken with the High King, he told me that you had need of me and I found myself back here, kneeling beside you. You thrashed and screamed but I couldn’t wake you. I feared you truly had fallen into an enchanted sleep but then you went still. And when I called to you, you woke up.”

  Ava gazed at him, a slight flush warming her cheeks. No matter which way she turned, there he was, steadfast in his devotion. In her darkest moment, he had knelt beside her and she had felt the clasp of his hand. Now that her emotions were freed, she no longer felt afraid of the idea of love nor did the reaction he evoked in her confuse her the way it had before. But she was still unsure what her emotions meant and she was still afraid of losing his love and, therefore, his loyalty.

  At some point she knew she would have to tell him the truth about how she had treated Hanna and she knew when that day came, she would lose him. That thought had lost none of its sting.

  I can’t tell him now, she thought, we have a nearly impossible task to accomplish and I need his help. It’s not for me, it’s for the people of Rangmere.

  And perhaps, her mind added, I can use the time to work out exactly what it is I feel for him.

  It took a great deal more conversation, including evoking the High King’s authority several times, before Ava convinced Hans that they had to head for Arcadie. He was still grumbling about it when they found their way back to the clearing where they had left their supplies.

  They saw no sign of her discarded satchel during their return journey so she was glad she had so few of their provisions. Thankfully, she had woken in the forest wearing the cloak she had abandoned by the enchanted stream. She was grateful to the High King for considering this detail. It would have been too much to hope that Hans had a second spare cloak for her in his saddlebags.

  Amazingly, Dusty was still there, calmly grazing as if they had been gone for mere minutes. The look he gave them when they reappeared seemed to say, ‘Oh good, there you are. Are you ready to stop fooling around and get on with things?’ Ava felt a rush of affection for the horse and a pang of sadness at the loss of Cinnamon. She reached out and gave him a hug. Dusty responded by huffing into her hair and then returning to the patch of grass he had already partially devoured.

  When Ava turned back to Hans, he was watching her with sympathy.

  “Whatever they may think about us, Your Highness,” he said, “the merchants will treat Cinnamon well.”

  She nodded, grateful for his sympathy and that he refrained from commenting on all these new displays of emotion. She was still adjusting to the changes in herself and her emotions felt fresh and raw.

  Thankfully she h
ad plenty of time to find an emotional equilibrium in the two weeks it took them to reach Arcadia’s capital city. Hans still had the gold and jewels she had brought with her from Rangmeros. In her hurry to flee she had forgotten to pack them in the satchel, and they purchased a second horse and a side saddle from the first town they encountered. It had been slow going until then but they were able to pick up the pace considerably once they were both mounted.

  They didn’t push themselves, however. Although neither said it out loud, it was obvious they both felt apprehensive about the possibility of catching Caravan Hargrove before it reached the city. They were certain the caravan would have made it across the border and equally certain that they would be greeted with anger and hostility if they ever met again. Ava’s hair and eyes had returned to their natural colouring but Hans looked the same as he always had and Ava suspected many in the caravan would recognise her even with the changes.

  But there was one familiar face that Ava wanted to see. As they journeyed through Arcadia, she couldn’t stop herself from closely examining every white-haired lady they encountered. If her grandmother had fled, Ava believed she would have hidden herself in the Arcadian forest. She had always rather liked Arcadia and she loved the forest.

  Now that Ava had been transformed, she longed to see her grandmother again: to have the opportunity to tell her she was sorry and that she’d changed. But there was no sign of Ava’s missing family member.

  It was a full fifteen days after they emerged from the forest before they saw the distant walls of the capital. Ava had been projecting a confident front for Hans’ sake but she felt a shiver of unease when she saw the city come in to view. An even deeper shiver rocked her when they actually passed through the great gates. Glancing back over her shoulder, she wondered if she would ever be given the opportunity to return through those portals. It was quite possible the Arcadians would simply throw her in the dungeon without hearing anything she had to say.

  Or worse, her mind whispered, they might wash their hands of the whole affair and turn you over to your brother.

  Before her fear could build, she felt a steadying hand on her elbow. Looking over, she saw that Hans had pulled Dusty in close beside her and was squeezing her arm reassuringly. I will protect you, his eyes seemed to say and she felt grateful for his support.

  The sight of him also reminded her of the past. She couldn’t have counted the number of times she had felt his silent presence behind her as he stood guard during some diplomatic meeting.

  You can do this, she reminded herself. You’ve been trained for exactly this sort of situation. She knew her brother would never have attempted to kill her unless he saw her as a threat. It was a strangely reassuring thought.

  They rode up the broad Palace Way, passing crowded row houses that gradually grew into more and more spacious homes as they travelled through the Merchant’s Circle and into the Noble’s Circle. They were making directly for the palace and Ava felt even more of her confidence return the closer they got. The gracious estates of the Noble’s Circle felt familiar – amongst royalty and nobility she was on home turf.

  When they reached the main gate in the palace wall, they were stopped by a guard who asked them to state their business in a bored tone. Ava’s first instinct was deception. Her mouth opened to tell him she was Anna, a merchant’s daughter, but before she could speak, she remembered the High King’s words.

  The time for disguise has passed. She knew in that instant that whether she succeeded or failed, she would do so as herself. No disguises.

  “I am Princess Ava of Rangmere,” she announced and felt herself grow taller and stronger as she said the words. “This is my personal guard, Hans. We have come to claim political asylum.”

  The guard seemed dumbfounded at her words. He had stiffened at her name so he was obviously aware of at least some of what had passed in Arcadie the year before.

  “I seek an audience with King Henry and Queen Eleanor,” she said when he didn’t speak. “Call for your captain if you must.”

  He greeted her last suggestion with relief and, looking across the courtyard beyond the gate, he signalled several other guards to join him. Leaving three men to watch over them, he disappeared towards the guardhouse.

  When he returned, he was accompanied by a tall, commanding man who Ava remembered as Markus, the captain of the palace guard. She had marked him out as one of the first targets during her intended coup and the memory made her uncomfortable. It took all of her training to keep her face and manner impassive.

  “I am Princess Ava of Rangmere,” she repeated but the captain cut her off.

  “I know who you are.” His voice and eyes were cold. “What I don’t know is what you’re doing here, unannounced and without an escort. It seems unusual behaviour for a princess.”

  Officially she had visited Arcadia last summer to discuss a marriage alliance and had departed on amicable terms when the union had fallen through. Of course, both Ava and Markus knew that she had come with much less friendly intent and had only been narrowly thwarted. Unfortunately for Markus, Ava was still a princess so despite their history he would be hesitant to overtly threaten her. All he had were barbed words and they were something she had long since learned to ignore.

  “My guard and I have narrowly escaped Rangmere with our lives. We have come seeking political asylum.” Her eyes challenged him to contradict her. “I wish to place my claim in person with their majesties.”

  The request was within her rights as a royal but she couldn’t think of a single instance in the last two generations when such a thing had been required. Markus regarded her for a long moment with narrowed eyes and then jerked his head in agreement.

  “Of course, Your Highness,” he said. “I apologise for the delay. I will personally escort you.” Ava didn’t miss the emphasis or the intended warning. She nodded gracious agreement and signalled to Hans to help her dismount. Once a groom had run forward to take their horses, she allowed the captain to lead them towards the palace.

  Markus signalled an entire squad of guards to form up behind them, although they stayed far enough back to be out of earshot. Hans seemed tense and she knew he was weighing the odds of getting her out safely if things turned ugly. Ava herself felt unbothered by their presence. If anything, she felt amused and rather flattered that Markus considered the two of them to be such a threat. She hoped that this meant progress, emotionally speaking, and not that she was falling back into her old ways.

  Chapter 15

  Markus led them to a small reception room and ushered them inside while the guards were instructed to wait in the corridor. The space was designed to host royal meetings that were too small to warrant the throne room and it was decorated in an elegant and slightly intimidating way, all white marble and gold. It featured an extremely large and obviously new portrait directly across from the door. Prince Maximilian and his bride made a beautiful couple and the feature piece was imposing but Ava’s father had long ago trained her not to respond to such subtle manipulations.

  Casting a quick glance around the room, she was confronted by the sight of the actual prince and princess. She had been expecting to see the king and queen and the sight of Max and Alyssa was such a shock that she took an involuntary step backward. The vivid memory of the last time she had seen them overcame her. It had been one of the few occasions when her calm control had given way to an embarrassing display of emotion and it made the bitterness of humiliation even more potent.

  It had been Hans who had rescued her then, just as it was he who stepped forward now and placed a reassuring hand on the small of her back. The touch reminded her that she was a different person now. She was no longer her father’s puppet and she was determined to make the rulers of Arcadia realise that.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, finding her voice. “I was expecting to see King Henry and Queen Eleanor.”

  “Their majesties are away on a tour of the kingdom,” said Markus, speaking up from behind her. �
�Their highnesses have regency in their absence.” He sounded a little smug and Ava was savagely sure that he had meant her to be shocked by their presence. She straightened her spine.

  “Yes, we have been given complete authority in all matters such as these,” said Max and while his tone was level, his eyes were blazing at her from across the room. “And you’d better give me one good reason why I shouldn’t have you arrested right now!”

  “Max,” said Alyssa, her voice a gentle reproof. “Ava has requested asylum and the laws on such matters are clear. We must give her full opportunity to make her claim.” She placed her hand on her husband’s arm and slowly his clenched fist relaxed.

  He shot her a look that was both affectionate and amused.

  Ava couldn’t help but feel a grudging swell of respect. When they had met the summer before, Alyssa had been merely the daughter of a woodcutter although she had the role of Princess Companion to Max’s younger sisters. She would never have addressed a foreign princess by her first name. Although she was speaking to the prince, Ava recognised the subtle power play in her choice of words. She was asserting her authority and reminding Ava that, unlike in the past, they were now on even footing.

  Not even, Ava thought wryly. Alyssa’s gentle words and gracious manner only emphasised that she was the one in the position of power. Apparently Prince Maximilian was inclined to ignore international conventions in his anger at her past behaviour. Ava’s safety depended on Alyssa’s forgiving attitude and respect for the law. This knowledge burned a little but Ava tried to tamp the sour feelings down.

  She truly had changed when she had chosen to give her allegiance to the High King and she wanted to be different. But looking at Alyssa, so beautiful and so confident in both her new role and new husband, Ava felt off balance. The other girl sparked a storm of emotion in her and it took her some time to register the strongest feeling. But when she did she was surprised.

  Respect. While Ava would never be the sweet, fun girl that Alyssa was, there were other ways she could learn from her. Ava wanted to be someone who could use political savvy within the confines of the law. Someone who could be at peace with herself. And as she watched Max gaze down at Alyssa, his eyes shining with love, she acknowledged to herself that she wanted love. To love and be loved. She was sick of being alone, she wanted to have friends and family again, true family.

 

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