by Paige Elwood
The inside of her car was stifling, and she flicked the air-conditioning on immediately after staring the engine. The time on the clock was flashing 8pm, and she’d promised to call her parents today. She gave the voice command to her phone, and within seconds her mom’s familiar voice filled the car from the Bluetooth speaker.
“Hey honey, are you all packed yet?”
“Almost. I’m sending a few boxes off with the courier tomorrow and then it’s just my suitcase and carry-on bag.”
“How exciting! Your father and I have never been to Prague, have we?” her voice trailed off a little at the end as she questioned Sarah’s father. She heard the soft click as she was switched to speakerphone.
“We’ve not.” Her father’s voice filled the car now. “Much to Gramma’s dismay.”
“Oh, did she want you to visit Prague?” Sarah asked.
“Did she never tell you that’s where her grandparents were from?” Her father sounded surprised.
Sarah couldn’t remember her ever saying that. She’d alluded to Eastern European roots a couple of times but had always been very vague. “No,” she said.
“That’s strange. She was always talking about it to me,” her father said, his voice taking on a wistful tone as he remembered his mother. “Anyway, we’re doing a little traveling in Europe over the summer ourselves and we thought we might add on a stop to visit you.”
“That sounds great. Make it over a weekend so I’ll have time to show you around. It’s a working trip for me, remember.”
Her mom laughed. “We understand that, honey, we had plenty of working trips of our own when you were little. In fact, we’re helping at a dig site in Austria for a few weeks on our trip.”
“Next to Melk Abbey,” her father added. “It looks like a beautiful place.”
“That’s awesome!” Sarah knew how much her parents loved to stay involved in the archaeology community. “And it will be great to see you for a visit.”
“We’ll look forward to it. What time do you need taking to the airport on Saturday?” her father asked, getting straight down to business in his usual way.
“My flight’s at 1pm, and I’d like to be there with plenty of time, so could you pick me up at 9am?”
“Sure thing,” her father said.
“Awesome. Thanks so much. I’ll see you both then.”
“Bye honey,” her parents both chorused before the car fell silent again.
When she arrived home, she found her DNA testing kit in her mailbox. She took the required swab of her cheek cells and a small hair sample and popped it straight back into the mailbox. If she was really lucky, she’d get the results before she left. If not, she could ask Katie to forward her mail on for her. She’d already pre-addressed twelve large padded envelopes for exactly that purpose.
Chapter 5
Sarah awoke to the sun streaming in through the edges of her blinds. It was her last full day before her trip, and she had a busy day ahead of her. She hopped out of bed and pulled her slipper socks on, padding to her bathroom and splashing water on her face to rinse the sleepiness away. She showered and dressed in comfortable clothing — yoga pants and a sloppy tee. She then threw her hair in a messy bun atop her head.
She began with thirty minutes of meditation, like every morning. Her room was fairly empty — a lot of her stuff had been packed into two large boxes already, and a third was almost full and ready to take to the courier. The emptiness of the room made it look neat and sterile, and it felt a little strange.
She’d normally have breakfast next, but she was way too excited to eat, so instead she padded down the stairs to the den. She grabbed the key from the top of the doorframe and turned it in the lock, pushing the door open. The hinges creaked slightly as she did, and she made a mental note to oil them before she left.
Gazing around the room, she admired for about the thousandth time the shelves and shelves of books lining the room. It was her favorite room in the house, her own mini library. There were floor to ceiling books on beechwood shelves organized in accordance with the Dewey Decimal system. The one whitewashed wall that wasn’t covered with books had a large window set into it with sunlight streaming through onto the plush gray overstuffed armchair in the middle of the room.
She took a seat in the chair and picked up the well-worn copy of Northanger Abbey on the small beechwood reading table beside the chair. This was the only place she was going to miss. It was her safe space where she could daydream, think, and sometimes even meditate uninterrupted. She made a point to never bring her cell phone or laptop into this room. It was for reading and relaxation, and nothing else. Katie thought it was weird that she didn’t just use it as a general office, but Sarah liked to keep it pure. It was the only room in the house that Katie didn’t have access to, and even while she was in Prague, Sarah intended to keep the key with her to ensure the sanctity of the library.
She browsed the shelves, pulling out several heavy reference works that she intended to take to Prague. These were the final items for the courier boxes. Even though she’d be working in one of Europe’s largest research centers, there were some books she wanted to take with her as she doubted they’d be available. Many of them were old and not even available as eBooks. Not that she’d ever bought an eBook. She couldn’t imagine not having the weight of a book in her hand, and she would miss the smell of the pages and tactile feel of the paper under her fingertips as she traced a particularly good line of text.
On one shelf rested her favorite picture of her with her gramma. A twelve-year-old Sarah smiled out from the image, a little on the skinny side with her blonde hair down to her waist and prominent freckles across her nose. Her gramma was the same height as Sarah in this picture, but over the next few years Sarah had grown a little taller than her. She’d been a short woman with a big personality. She’d have thought that Sarah’s trip was a wonderful adventure, and sadness swept over her that her gramma couldn’t share the experience with her.
Her arms laden with books and the photograph, Sarah headed back upstairs and filled the last box with the books. She left the photograph out on the bed. She sealed the box with packing tape and labeled it carefully on all four sides. She wasn’t taking any chances of it getting lost. Just the idea of these books not arriving made her heart thud painfully in her chest.
She retrieved her battered old suitcase from its hiding place under her bed and began to pack, but she was distracted by the photo of her gramma. She picked up the photo of her again and sat on her bed, memories flooding back to her.
She supposed that some of her romantic notions came from her gramma, who had given her the ring. Her gramma was full of stories of all kinds; particularly stories about love, often where people overcame incredible odds to find each other and live happily ever after. She had also told Sarah stories of dragons, knights, witches and other fantastical creatures. For some reason the stories of true love had always stuck with Sarah, and she not only wanted that for her own life, she expected it.
Her gramma had been adamant that her ring would show its powers and help her find the one person she was supposed to spend her life with. And it was an idea that Sarah was just not willing to let go of no matter how ridiculous other people might find it. Something in the story just spoke to her heart and her sense of true love and romance and adventure. Her grandmother had been a little crazy, but she was a good woman who had taught Sarah to have good morals. She was sure that her gramma was at least partially the reason that she was so able to ignore the opinions of others and follow what she knew in her heart to be right.
She’d been twenty-five for a few months already and there was no sign of any Prince Charming yet. Perhaps her trip to Prague would be where she met someone special. She imagined how amazing it would be if from the chance to go and do the thing she loved most in the world, she then got the chance to find the one person she would love most in the world. That was just a silly daydream, and silly daydreams had already almost gone and gott
en her killed once recently, so she put that to one side in her mind and carried on packing methodically.
The sound of the doorbell startled her, and she raced down the stairs to answer the door. Throwing it open, she found Louise on the doorstep, a parcel in one hand wrapped in gaudy ‘Congratulations’ gift paper.
“Hi!” Sarah greeted her, confused. She was sure she hadn’t said anything about coming by. Sarah’s day had been planned out meticulously, and she didn’t have much time for an impromptu visit, but it would be rude of her to turn Louise away.
“Hi.” Louise smiled, oblivious to Sarah’s discomfort. “I brought a going away gift.” She thrust the parcel towards Sara, who took it from her outstretched hands.
“You didn’t need to buy me a gift,” Sarah said. “I’m not leaving forever, just a few months.”
“I know. I just felt bad about the other day, when I almost bit your head off about Chris.”
Sarah shook her head. “Don’t worry about that. You were having a bad day, happens to us all.”
“Well, I’d feel better about it if you’d accept my gift and my apology.”
“Of course. Thank you.” She stepped back from the door, suddenly realizing that she’d kept Louise on the doorstep. “Come in!”
Louise stepped in. “I thought I might help you with the packing.”
“I’m almost done,” Sarah said, but at Louise’s sad expression, she added, “But I do have my suitcase and a flight bag left to do.”
Louise beamed. “I’m an awesome packer. We’ll be done in no time!”
Sarah led the way to her room, Louise following closely behind. Once inside, she opened the parcel that Louise handed her. Inside was a large Michael Kors tote bag, perfect to use as hand luggage.
“This is lovely,” Sarah said, gaping at the bag, it was the most expensive bag she’d ever owned. “I can’t accept this.”
“Please,” Louise said. “I really want you to have it, you can use it to travel and while you’re in Prague.”
Sarah hugged her. “Thank you, I love it.”
“You’re welcome,” Louise said, her hands on her hips as she surveyed the room. “Now, shall we pack?”
Sarah gave Louise some of the basic packing tasks — folding shirts, etc. She watched from the corner of her eye as Louise folded the shirts she’d handed her and cringed a little when she saw they weren’t being done the way she would do them. She tried to stop watching and concentrate on organizing her toiletries bag, but after ten minutes it was too much for her to take.
“You know what?” she said. “What I really need a hand with is taking these boxes to the couriers.”
“Sure,” Louise grinned. Sarah returned the smile with a genuine one of her own. Perfect, now she could get a hand with the heavy boxes and not offend her friend.
They hauled the three boxes down the stairs and into the trunk of Louise’s car, which was roomier than Sarah’s. While she was outside, Sarah grabbed the mail from the mailbox and threw it into her purse to open later.
“Thank you so much,” Sarah said as they drove the ten miles to the depot where they could drop the boxes off.
“My pleasure,” Louise said. “I’m just glad I could help.”
With the boxes checked in and insured, Sarah was one step closer to being ready for her trip. She stared out of the window on the drive back home, making a mental list of things that still needed to be done.
“I’m giving Chris a second chance,” Louise blurted out, starling Sarah out of her reverie. “Please don’t hate me.”
Sarah stared at her in amazement. “Why would I hate you?”
“I know it’s not what you advised me to do, but I have to give it another try.”
“Then I will support that. I just want the best for you, Louise.”
“I know,” she said. “I hope that I’m making the right choice.”
“Well, at least you know you’ll have done everything you could,” Sarah offered. She hoped that Chris could keep himself in check this time and not hurt her friend again. Anger bubbled in her at the thought of that.
When Louise pulled up outside her cottage, Sarah leaned over to hug her. “I’ll miss you,” she said, squeezing tightly. Louise returned the hug just as enthusiastically.
“Text us every day,” she said, giving her one last squeeze before she got out of the car.
“Promise,” Sarah said, hopping out of Louise’s Ford estate car and waving as she drove off.
She was really going to miss her friends, she thought as she opened the door of the cottage and headed back to her room. She redid all of the shirts that Louise had folded and placed them carefully in the suitcase. She had a tried and tested system for fitting as much as possible into the medium-sized case, and by the time she was done there was nothing left to pack, and the suitcase was just full enough that it would zip closed if she sat on it.
Sarah remembered the mail she’d picked up and put into her bag to open later. She retrieved the two envelopes and made a snack in the kitchen before opening them: turkey on rye with heaps of mayo. The first one was just a bank statement, and she tucked it back into her bag. The second one had an Ancestry.com logo printed on the envelope, and she tore it open eagerly. She scanned the letter inside, confirming the results of her recent DNA test.
It showed that she had some Germanic and Czech ancestry. She couldn’t keep the delighted grin from spreading over her face. How amazing! She was literally on her way to the place of her ancestry. This just made her trip even more special. She’d suspected, with her pale blonde hair, blue eyes and lightly freckled pale skin, that she had European or Scandinavian roots, but this was the perfect result. Now she could try and learn even more about her own family history as well as conducting her research. If her father was right, she had some Czech roots on his side of the family through her gramma.
She plugged in the information she now had to an ancestry website with a very comprehensive database. While it searched for her family history, she wrote out a list of instructions for Katie, including some simple recipes that were healthier than pizza and used simple ingredients. She hoped her ditzy housemate would actually follow them. She also included details on forwarding her mail and the contact number of the hotel in case of emergencies. Katie had her cellphone number, but she wasn’t sure what the coverage would be like and she didn’t want to leave a single thing to chance.
When she was done, she checked her laptop. The search was complete and she had six pages of ancestry results. She pulled up a seat at the kitchen table to read through them. They’d managed to trace her lineage back to the 1500’s, and then before that it became a bit sketchy. She read through the information quickly. Although her roots were Eastern European, it seemed that a few of her family members had lived in Paris over the centuries.
At the bottom, there was a possible link to a Czech nobleman named Peter Romanov. The report noted that the records were incomplete as numerous records from that area had been destroyed in a fire. Sarah printed it off and tucked it into her bag. It would be good reading in between her research.
Chapter 6
Max shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He’d been waiting in the alley for what must have been over ten minutes now. The forger had said to meet him at sunset, but the sun was long set and darkness had fallen across the city. His hand touched the hilt of sword, concealed again beneath Henry’s cloak. The cold steel against his palm calmed him a little.
He heard footsteps behind him and turned rapidly to see who was coming. He let out a long breath when he saw it was the forger.
“I told you it would be a stretch,” the forger said. Max’s heart plummeted.
“Did you…” he began.
“I only just managed to finish them in time,” the forger said, passing a small pouch to Max. Max opened the pouch and tipped the replica rings into his hand. The meager light was barely enough to see by, and he picked up the female ring, twisting it this way and that, trying to g
et a better look. In the minimal light available, it looked like a good match. Besides, time was up. Even if it wasn’t a good match, he had no time to get anything better made now.
He thanked the forger and hurried back to the castle, slipping through the secret entrances and into the passages, under cover of night. He had no candle and he struggled to navigate the pitch-black passages. He felt his way along the damp walls, relying on his memory to guide him. Eventually his hands landed on the door to his workshop, and he fumbled to get his key in the lock.
Inside the room, he could hardly wait to light a candle and inspect the rings closely. He took both sets of rings out and placed them side by side. A smile stretched across his face. They were perfect. They looked exactly like the real things. The main difference he noticed was that he didn’t feel the same pull towards the replicas. They were just rings. The real set, however, held a certain fascination for him.
He remembered the day his old nanny had given him the rings, claiming that they were made for him, that he was destined to have them. This nanny had been full of lots of different stories; fantastical stories of dragons and beasts and the men who slew them. She also told him tales of true love and lovers brought together across time and space to fulfill their true destiny. Even though she had only lasted for several months, Max could still recall most of the tales that she had told. He particularly vividly remembered the tale of the rings and the tales of the lovers who traveled across time and space to be together. They had stuck with him all the way through his life.
His father had not liked the stories the old woman told and had fired her because he said that she was filling the Prince’s head with fantasies that would do him no good when it came time to be king.
After that, all of his nannies had been very serious creatures who talked only of manners, history and politics, and political literature. There had been no more fantastical tales of knights and beasts and true love. Luckily, the castle had an extensive library that both his father and his mother kept stocked and maintained. And in amongst the dusty tomes there were many works of literature that stoked Max’s childish imagination. He still loved to sit in the library and read a book. His favorite topics were science, inventing, and astronomy. But more recently, his reading material had also included the hefty political tomes and the manuals on strategy and war.