The Princess and the Pea (Fairy Tale Adventures Book 1)

by A. G. Marshall

  Lina slipped into an uneasy sleep filled with dreams of the war. It was still dark when she awoke, but she couldn’t bear to stay still any longer. If they held the same traditions, the archive would open at sunrise. She hesitated for a moment. It seemed ungrateful to leave without saying goodbye to Eva.

  The goat herder’s soft snores still filled the room. Lina decided against waking the girl and slipped out of the cottage.

  4

  “Wake up.”

  Alaric hit Stefan with the pillow again. Stefan rolled over but didn’t open his eyes.

  “Go away.”

  Alaric sighed. He had expected this and come prepared. He poured a vase of water on Stefan’s head.

  “Hey!”

  Stefan sputtered and rolled out of bed.

  “What are you doing? It isn’t even breakfast time yet!”

  “You still wait to get up until breakfast?”

  Stefan glanced in a mirror. His short brown hair stuck out from his head like a hedgehog. He smoothed it down, but it popped back up.

  “Wear a hat,” Alaric said. “Weigh it down with your crown. We’re going to the archives.”

  “It’s dark outside!”

  “They open at sunrise, and the Council of Kings arrives this evening. We don’t have time to waste!”

  Stefan rubbed his eyes.

  “You were serious. You’re going to choose a bride based on trade records.”

  “Aeonia will benefit from a strong trading partner. Are you helping or not?”

  “I will help. After the sun is in the sky, and I’ve eaten breakfast. Like any normal person would.”

  “Fine. I’ll meet you there.”

  Alaric wrapped his cloak around his shoulders and left his brother to go back to sleep. He hurried through the city, dodging the early morning crowds as they rushed to start the day. He reached the archive a few moments after the sun slipped over the horizon.

  Simon, the archivist, was already up to his elbows in ancient scrolls. Strategically placed windows and mirrors lit the massive building from sunup to sundown. Simon wasn’t one to waste daylight.

  “You’re up very early,” Simon said.

  Alaric smiled. The white-haired archive keeper returned his grin with a bow. Alaric breathed in the welcome scent of thousands of parchment scrolls stored in the archive.

  “The first researcher awake is the first to find his answers.”

  “Oh, you’re not the first today,” Simon said. “A young lady was here waiting for me when I unlocked the doors.”

  “Really? How unusual.”

  “Not as unusual as she is. Her clothes- well. She must have traveled a long way. Talk about travel dust! I was reluctant to let her in. All that dirt isn’t good for our scrolls. She finally agreed to wear an extra smock over her clothes and wash her hands in the courtyard fountain before touching anything.”

  Alaric smirked. Simon protected the scrolls like they were his children. He took the loose cotton smock the archivist offered him and slipped it over his clothes.

  “You think this is a joke?” Simon said. “You know how long it takes to clean a dirty scroll? The restoration can take months.”

  “I’m sure. The scrolls of Aeonia are fortunate to be under your watchful eye.”

  “Humph.”

  Alaric bowed and walked deeper into the archives. It held historical parchments on every topic imaginable. Shelves bursting with scrolls covered the walls and even the domed ceiling thanks to enchanted glass. The center room held popular topics like royal histories and building records, but that was by no means the extent of the archives.

  The trade records were housed in one of the exterior rooms that surrounded the central chamber like spokes on a wagon wheel. Alaric found the parchment he needed and settled into a chair in a corner.

  Time to learn about exports. He skimmed the top of the scroll. Ostenreich exported wheat. They had not had a bad crop in fifty years.

  Promising.

  But was it the best choice? Aeonia grew enough food for the people. Maybe textiles would be better. Alaric read further down the parchment. Two of his top five princesses came from countries with textile imports. Darluna specialized in silk. Santelle grew cotton.

  And Aeonia had goats enough to clothe the country in cashmere. As his stepbrothers often reminded him. He had learned a lot about goats from them.

  Alaric rubbed his forehead. This was impossible. Perhaps trade wasn’t the best way to choose his bride. Political alliances could be just as powerful. He slid the scroll back into place and wandered across the archive. He was so distracted he almost ran into the only other patron.

  “Oh, excuse me, miss.”

  The young woman nodded and ducked her head. Alaric stared at her. She wore two oversized white smocks over her clothes. At least, they had been white once. Now they were coated in patches of dirt. How filthy was she to transfer that much dirt to the smock? She was lucky Simon had let her in at all.

  “The fault is mine. Please excuse me.”

  Her voice caught Alaric off guard. It was lower than he expected and lilted like music. She had an aristocratic accent. Both old fashioned and familiar.

  She tilted her head up. The intelligence in her green eyes caught Alaric’s breath.

  “Where are the histories kept?” she asked.

  She was a puzzle he couldn’t work out. Everything in her manner suggested sophistication and confidence, but her hair was a tangled, filthy mess. Even goat herders weren’t this disheveled.

  “The histories?” she repeated. “Do you know where they are?”

  Alaric gathered his wits and pointed across the archive.

  “Histories of royal families are that way.”

  She smirked.

  “You think I’m here to dig up ancient gossip?”

  “I- Well, most women-”

  She raised an eyebrow.

  “Do you have no female scholars here?”

  “No. Of course! Yes, we do. Please, forgive me for assuming. The histories of royal families are simply the most popular scrolls.”

  “With women?”

  Was she teasing him? She looked amused under all the dirt. Alaric felt uncomfortable. He wasn’t often teased by anyone. Even among his brothers, Stefan was the only one who joked with him.

  He took a deep breath and reminded himself he liked the anonymity of the archive. The smocks covered clothes and jewelry. Any signs of wealth. Everyone was equal here.

  If she had traveled as far as her dust suggested, she probably had no idea he was a prince. Alaric smiled at her.

  “The royal histories are popular with everyone,” he said. “I think because they are more personal. They make the past come alive.”

  A flash of sadness crossed her face. Tears gathered in her eyes. What had he done now?

  “Are you alright?” he asked. “I’ve hurt you somehow. I meant no offense.”

  She wiped a tear out of her eye. The moisture left a trail in the dust on her face.

  “No, the offense is not yours.”

  Alaric watched the struggle on her face as she pushed away the emotion and regained focus. His stomach growled. Right, he had skipped breakfast. He reached into his smock and pulled two apples out of his cloak.

  It had been wishful thinking to pack one for Stefan, but he was glad he had. He offered one to the girl. She raised an eyebrow.

  “We’d better go to the courtyard to eat. The archivist will kick us out for sure if he sees that.”

  Alaric laughed and followed her to the courtyard in the center of the archive. They sat beneath a tree and ate the apples.

  “How did you know about the courtyard?” Alaric asked. “Have you been here before? I haven’t seen you around.”

  The girl swallowed a bite of apple.

  “Oh. No, I haven’t. Simon made me wash my hands in the fountain. And I studied a blueprint of the building before I came. It has changed since that was made though. The side rooms are new.”

/>   “Hardly. They’re over seventy-five years old.”

  The girl choked on her apple. Alaric patted her on the back until she regained her breath.

  “What? Really?”

  He nodded.

  “Oh.”

  She looked around the courtyard.

  “This place hasn’t changed at all. The trees are bigger.”

  Alaric shrugged.

  “Yes, I suppose they would be. Speaking of the fountain, we’d better wash our hands before we return.”

  “Yes, we don’t want to bring the wrath of Simon on ourselves.”

  She scrubbed her hands for a long time under the running water. The water in the basin was a dark gray from her previous washing. They walked back to the archives side by side.

  “So what are you looking for?” he said. “Not the royal histories.”

  “No, I don’t need historical gossip today. I’m looking for the histories of countries. Important happenings. Wars and alliances.”

  “Oh. That will be in the historical archives. They’re in one of the side rooms. I’m actually looking there as well.”

  She walked with him across the archives.

  “What are you researching?” she asked.

  “Political alliances.”

  “Ah. For a project? Are you a scholar?”

  Alaric shrugged.

  “Something like that. What about you? What are you looking for?”

  She blinked at him.

  “I expect the information I’m looking for will be ancient. Are the scrolls arranged chronologically?”

  “Yes, the older scrolls will be in the back. They’re pretty dense reading. Writing styles have changed a lot over the centuries. A lot has changed.”

  “Yes, I expect it has. Thank you.”

  She nodded her head and ran to the back of the room. Alaric stared after her. Had he done something else wrong? Maybe she was just in a hurry to find her answers.

  He watched her browse the scrolls and realized he didn’t know her name. He stopped himself from walking over to ask. It didn’t matter. She was intriguing, but he had already wasted too much time. He needed to research his future bride.

  Still, he couldn’t help glancing her way. What information in Aeonia’s history was so important that she would travel that far to find it? That she would feel so passionate about it that just the mention of history brought her to tears?

  Alaric shook his head and pulled a scroll from the shelf. That was her business. He needed to mind his own now.

  He pushed the girl out of his mind and threw himself into the study of political alliances. Yes, these were much more profitable. An alliance with Santelle would secure the western trade routes and amicable relations with Darluna and Htar. But would it aggravate relations with Gaveron?

  “Have you found what you’re looking for?” Simon asked.

  Alaric shook his head. He needed to look at older records. He slipped further into the side room.

  The girl was still there. She pulled scroll after scroll from the shelves, skimmed them, and replaced them. She moved methodically back down the hallway. Back in time to the oldest parchments.

  Alaric swallowed. There was no reason he shouldn’t go talk to her. She seemed to be looking for something specific. He had read many of the scrolls in this room. It would be only right to offer assistance. What could be more princely than helping a traveler learn about his country?

  He smoothed his hair back. Yes, he would walk over to her and-

  “Alaric!”

  Alaric groaned. Stefan bounded across the main archive room. Simon followed waving a white smock. He caught Stefan and shoved it over his head.

  “Stefan, the archive is supposed to be quiet,” Alaric hissed.

  “Pull the smock over your clothes!” Simon demanded. “You can’t be here without a smock! The parchments are delicate!”

  Stefan pulled the garment over his torso.

  “Have you decided yet?”

  “You’re still too loud,” Alaric said.

  He glanced at the girl. She frowned at him and moved deeper into the chamber. No wonder. Those ancient texts were hard enough to read without the distraction of someone yelling. He pulled Stefan back to the main archive to avoid disturbing her further.

  “So, have you?” Stefan said. “Have any trade routes won your heart?”

  He whispered dramatically and fluttered his eyelashes. Alaric sighed.

  “This is a difficult thing. Not to be rushed.”

  “Yes, but you’ve been here for hours! You should have found something by now! Don’t tell me. They’d all benefit Aeonia. You’ll have to marry for love after all.”

  “I’ve narrowed it down to the best two,” Alaric said through gritted teeth. “But yes, an alliance with any of the nations that are sending true princesses would benefit Aeonia in some way.”

  “Excellent! You can experience my surprise for you with your new love on your arm.”

  “Is there really a surprise? I had hoped you were joking about that.”

  “Never! I talked father and Marta into putting me in charge of the entertainment for the grand ball.”

  “Stefan. No.”

  Stefan’s smile could have lit the archive without the sun’s help.

  “Yes. The Aeonian Royal Theater Troupe is producing a new play by our very own crown prince.”

  “Stefan, you didn’t. You can’t have. I burned all the copies of that.”

  “And I found one! It’s amazing! The Theater Troupe has been rehearsing for weeks.”

  “Stefan, I wrote that years ago! That was never meant to be produced.”

  “That’s not what you said when you finished it. You said it was a masterpiece. An artistic triumph! Oh man, Odette’s face when you asked her to play Evangelina Shadow-Storm for the premiere. Priceless.”

  Something crashed deep in the archives. Stefan and Alaric leaned over to look. The green-eyed girl stood motionless. A pile of fallen parchments surrounded her. She stared at them, her jaw dropped.

  “See?” Stefan whispered. “The ladies can’t resist a playwright.”

  “Shut up.”

  Alaric pulled Stefan towards the door. He had done all the research he could today. Simon met them at the front of the archive.

  “Did I hear your obnoxiously loud brother correctly, Your Highness? You should have told me you wrote plays.”

  “I don’t. I mean, I did once when I was young. It was nothing. Just a setting of Evangelina Shadow-Storm.”

  “He loves Evangelina Shadow-Storm,” Stefan said. “Loves. Her.”

  “Shut up. They are not producing that play for the Council of Kings.”

  “Oh yes they are. I specifically told them not to prepare any backup entertainment.”

  “What? Stefan! You- Excuse me, Simon.”

  Alaric pulled his smock off and threw it in Stefan’s face. He ran towards the door. Stefan shrugged his smock off, dropped both onto the floor, and chased his brother out of the archive.

  5

  Lina stood frozen at the back of the archives. She dropped the handful of parchments. They scattered around her. The men leaned around and looked at her. She should speak to them. Ask them for more information. She tried, but her voice wouldn’t work. Her mouth hung open and wouldn’t shut.

  They had said her name. Surely she hadn’t misheard. They had said her full name.

  Evangelina Shadow-Storm.

  She gathered her wits and shoved the ancient parchments around her back in their places.

  They knew of her. Those two men remembered her. She would have to be careful. Who knew who they were? But she could finally find out what had happened!

  Lina hesitated. The council had enemies. She shouldn’t give herself away. She could ease into the conversation. The blond scholar was friendly. He had shared breakfast with her. He had helped her find the scrolls she needed. She could present the questions as more of her research. As information needed for a project.


  Lina rushed to the main room. It was empty. Where were they? She gritted her teeth in frustration and ran to the archivist.

  “Those men, where did they go?”

  Simon nodded his head to the door.

  “Rushed out. Typical.”

  Lina swallowed her disappointment. It didn’t matter. The blond scholar, however charming, couldn’t be the only person who knew of her. The archivist would know.

  “What were they talking about?”

  “Oh, the Council of Kings is meeting here this year. A fascinating opportunity for a scholar. Every country in the Myorian region will be present. They arrive tonight.”

  Lina shook her head.

  “No, the play.”

  “Ah, yes. It is traditional to provide the Council with entertainment that reflects the culture of the host country.”

  Was he trying to misunderstand her? Lina forced herself to smile.

  “What of the girl they mentioned? Evangelina Shadow-Storm. I didn’t see her mentioned in any of your histories.”

  Simon chuckled.

  “No, you wouldn’t have. She’s a popular local children’s tale.”

  Lina’s heart dropped. A lump formed in her throat. A children’s tale.

  “Are you well, girl?”

  “Do you have scrolls about her?”

  “Of course not. This archive holds only the most important historical documents.”

  Lina’s heart beat faster and faster. She bit back her anger. Important? Historical?

  “Most stories are rooted in truth,” she said.

  “True, but this is a most implausible tale. You’d have a hard time finding the fact in that fiction.”

  Tears filled Lina’s eyes. She turned and ran from the archive before Simon could see them. Lina left her filthy smocks on the stairs and searched the streets for the men. They were gone. She had wasted too much time speaking to the archivist.

  Lina bit back a scream of frustration. A children’s tale? It wouldn’t have mattered if she had found them. Even the kindest scholar wasn’t likely to believe a children’s tale had come to life.