by Cara Coe
Seth regarded her solemnly. “Your point is beyond driven into the heart of this argument, Amelie.” His hand rose to grasp hers, but he remembered his place and lowered it again. With an uncomfortable cough, he resumed their walk.
“It’s about time I won one,” Amelie muttered under her breath. The prince could not hold back a full-bodied laugh.
“We’ve been arguing over Draedean laws for two days. I clearly had the advantage since you’re Candorian. The moment we switch topics, you spear me through the middle with your sharp points.”
“I like our debates, Seth. You’ve taught me much about your customs and made me think about our own.”
“I have enjoyed them as well.” He paused thoughtfully. “I hope to keep enjoying them.”
Amelie squeezed her eyes shut. The burden of her truth suffocated her.
The second night of Prince Seth's return, he had slipped into her room. She heard the door crack open and she’d leapt to her feet from a lying position in her bed, crouched in self-defense. Seth held up his hands at her reflexes and chuckled. A small candle lit the mischief on his face.
“If you want me to leave, a simple command will accomplish that,” he teased.
She relaxed but only slightly, still feeling startled. “What are you doing here?” she demanded.
The prince wiped the last of the mischief off his face seeing her stiff posture. “On the road you had nightmares. I was always there when you awoke. I…I just didn’t want you to suddenly have no one.”
Amelie’s muscles melted and she sank to her knees into the bed.
“Well, then. If you are quite all right, I’ll just…”
“I have not had one tonight, but the threat still lingers,” she interrupted quietly. She vacated the space closest to him on the bed, creating a spot for him. An invitation.
He took it gingerly, keeping his clothing on which at present was more than anyone needed for sleeping. She wondered what he’d been doing these last hours. She didn’t ask. Instead, she tucked herself into the space of his side and arm and rested her head on his shoulder. He let out a slow breath. And that’s how she stayed, fluttering in and out of sleep until he left her with a kiss on her forehead right before dawn.
She had wanted to tell him then, reveal to him the impossibility of their situation. She wanted to tell him every night he was with her when he came into her room with the single candle to lay next to her and will her nightmares away. When the world seemed no bigger than the feather bedding they laid on and she could reach out and hold him close to her physically as the realization tore him away.
Now in the chilly air of the garden and their purposeful distance from one another, she could not bring herself to do it. He continued to look at her expectantly. She returned his expression with a weak smile.
“It is a lovely notion,” she said simply. The prince stood for a moment, looking at her. He knew her thoughts sometimes before she did. He’d learned her giveaways somewhere along the journey here. He nodded his understanding once and extended an arm in the direction of the castle.
“Shall we head back?”
Amelie’s agreement came in the form of a silent retreat towards the wing she was housed.
Chapter 26
Amelie
The shaft of Derrick’s wooden weapon came down hard on Amelie’s thigh. She had turned to her left, but she was not quick enough to avoid it. Enough of her wits cut through the pain to raise her own staff to block the second blow. The contact of the weapons caused a painful vibration in her knuckles, but she gripped tighter and attempted to land the butt of hers in Derrick’s stomach. He blocked it and used his foot to sweep her own feet out from under her.
“Oomph!” She landed in the grass on her back, knocking the air from her chest. Her eyes watered.
“Careful, Derrick,” Talon scolded from his perch on the low fence next to the stables. “Her delegation will think we mistreated her and his majesty will seek out someone’s head.”
Derrick extended a meaty hand towards Amelie which she grasped. She groaned as he pulled her to her feet.
“I’m quite all right,” she protested, positioning herself for the next sparring match. She crouched, holding her staff diagonally as Derrick had shown her. “It’ll take more than that weak attack to keep me down.”
Talon and Derrick laughed heartily. “That weak attack had you on the ground in under ten seconds,” Talon taunted. “And don’t pretend your leg doesn’t hurt. I’ll keep my mouth shut when you knock on my quarters later tonight for a salve to ease the bruising.”
Amelie grinned and twirled her staff teasingly. “Round two?”
Derrick tipped his head in agreement. Before they could begin, they were interrupted by a slam of the stable door. A horse whinnied nervously and Prince Seth stomped out to their practice spot on the pasture.
Amelie straightened warily. “Oh no,” she whispered under her breath.
“A moment, gentlemen,” the prince commanded. Talon and Derrick scurried from their spots, sparing Amelie a questioning glance before disappearing into the stables.
She stood tall, the staff now vertical in her hand. She looked the prince square in the eye. She owed him at least that.
“A page has arrived announcing the arriving party,” he said. He could barely spit the words out. His breath came in large huffs. “The king’s top advisor. His personal head of security. The queen herself.”
Amelie stood stone still.
“That is a powerful delegation for one spy.”
“Not if the spy is a princess.”
Prince Seth’s eyebrows raised then narrowed and he opened his mouth several times to speak though no words came. His face held an expression she’d never seen aimed at her: a mixture of disbelief, anger, and doubt.
“I wanted to tell you,” she began feebly.
The prince’s voice finally caught hold of some words. “Did you now?” he demanded. “When was this? The first or the hundredth time I asked you who you were?”
“I couldn’t tell you. I couldn’t compromise the mission. I couldn’t betray my kingdom.”
“And yet I betrayed mine!” His rage cut off her protests. “By confiding in you, I betrayed my kingdom by your very definition Princess.” Amelie flinched at his pointed address.
“I didn’t ask you to.” Her voice was quiet, swallowed by the wrongness of the statement.
He wasn’t finished with her yet. His eyes hardened at her words. “What you consider betrayal, I considered the beginning of a friendship. I told you my missions. I gave you my information. I trusted you and waited patiently, stupidly for you to trust me.” He sighed and leaned against the fence Talon had been teasing her from minutes before. How differently her world felt from those minutes to now. She was standing in the exact same spot but she now felt removed from camaraderie she’d had with these people. She once again felt on the outside.
“So your name isn’t Amelie? Princess Claudia?”
“Claudia is my younger sister. I am Princess Gabriella. Amelie is my middle name, which the family always addressed me informally and which I now go by. Because of my magic I was removed from the palace at the age of thirteen and never came out into society.”
Dawning realization lit the prince’s eyes and he straightened from the fence. “You mean…”
“The rumors of the hidden princess are true. I am she.”
An expression of awe and anger warred on his face. Amelie pressed on before he could speak.
“Prince Phillip died when I was thirteen.”
“I remember learning of his death,” the prince said quietly, settling against the fence. For now, the anger subsided and his eyes held a note of curiosity.
“He killed himself.” Amelie steeled herself against the stab of pain that hit her whenever she remembered. “Though he was like my brother, he was not immune to my magic. He tried to rape me. He stopped himself just in time when he realized what he was doing. He was so wracked with guilt…�
�� Her voice shuddered, thick with tears. “I found him hanging from a beam not long after the incident. The king’s advisor thought it best if I was removed from the castle. Live with a group of nuns at a small monastery. I think he could tell Phillip was not the only one. Other guards were getting antsy. The cook attacked me.” Amelie gulped. “The king had begun to seek out my company more than usual.”
She settled herself on a patch of grass. She no longer trusted her legs to hold her as she let flow the story she had not even voiced to Millie. Not even to her sister, Claudia. Though they knew through pieces and circumstances, no one had heard this account through the one who lived it. Through the Hidden Princess.
“A day’s ride from the castle and time were enough to make the kingdom forget me. To wonder if I’d fallen ill, run away, question if I even ever existed. It was enough to reinvent me. I spent my days at the monastery living like a commoner among the nuns with little more than Millie for companionship. I was only visited by my mother, my sister, and my king.”
“Your stepfather,” Prince Seth surmised.
“Yes, King Byron is my stepfather. My father died before I was old enough to know him. When I was sixteen, the assassination attempts began. One of the failed attempts was captured. He had a note on his person that bared the name Rankor. Even through torture, he wouldn’t reveal information. It was the king’s advisor who thought to summon me. Through my…persuasion…we were able to extract a lot of information in a short period of time.”
Amelie spared a short glance to the prince. He was enthralled. She continued.
“Over time, it wasn’t just uninvited guests in our kingdom that I was working my magic on. It was thought that I could be of use trying to find out what this Rankor wanted with us if I intercepted his spies. I began training in defense at the monastery with my daggers. Training in poisons. My etiquette lessons increased since I’d never been out in society and I learned how to dance, how to make small talk, to identify the royal family of the neighboring kingdoms and current issues so that I would blend in. Millie trained alongside me and became more than a companion. We depended on each other to get through these missions. For six years, I’ve done nothing else. Rumors spread throughout the kingdom that the middle royal child had gone missing. And I became the Hidden Princess. We left it that way. I serve my kingdom in a different way now. Claudia is the face. I work under a cloak.”
The Prince stared at her intently as she spoke. She finally looked at him, squarely, signaling him to respond.
“You’ve never told anyone this?” he asked.
“Only the royal family, the king’s advisor, Millie, and the head of the royal guard Captains who trains me knows the whole story. Not even the nuns know where I go when I am summoned. No one in my kingdom knows I still exist save for a handful of castle servants and soldiers. I live in near solitude.” She sighed. “I prefer it that way. You. Your men. It is the first time I have spent any length of time in the company of men without fear or intent. It is the first time I was able to just be Amelie. Not a princess. Not an assassin. Not a mage. Just me.”
“But I am different, Amelie. How can you love me but not trust me? What is that split like? I could not know. I trust you with my life.”
“And I yours!” Amelie cried. “But you asked for your days. I tried to answer you finally but I could see the fear of heartbreak in your eyes so I said yes when you asked me to wait to give my answer.”
“I didn’t know you were royalty! You knew that. You should have told me anyway.”
Amelie smiled sadly. “You knew an answer of no was coming so you wanted to avoid it for as long as possible. For whatever the reason, the no is what you wished to escape for a while. So I gave it to you. Oh, Seth, I am a princess by title only. I am still the woman you came to know on the road. It just so happens that title, however hidden, complicates even further an already complicated situation.”
The prince stood quiet for a long time, shaking his head in disbelief. He wore only a light colored tunic over his linen pants, the most casual Amelie had ever seen him. She wanted to reach to him, place her hand on the side of his tunic where his tanned skin was showing beneath his arm, but she remained in her spot on the dry grass waiting for his words. The words he always so carefully chose. That he always spoke after putting the full weight of his thought upon them. That’s why he surprised her when he said, “Then perhaps I shall be the one to un-complicate this situation. Princess.”
And he turned away from her making his way back to the palace in long, sure strides.
Chapter 27
Amelie
The prince did not come to her quarters that night. This was the thought Amelie had when Henna bustled into her room, releasing the sunlight from behind the wooden window slats as she flung them open. The drapes were brushed aside, revealing the stone balcony. Amelie sat perched in a sitting chair next the bed where she’d spent the majority of the early morning hours in thought.
“Good morning, Henna.”
“Good morning, my lady. We must hurry. Your party arrived two hours ago and have been quartered. The Queen wishes to see you but I begged her Grace to allow me to prepare you for the day first.”
“It is not necessary, Henna,” Amelie said quietly, rising from the chair. “Please. Show her in.”
“My lady?” Henna paused in her bustling to administer a confused look to her charge. “Under the circumstances…with the accusations against you…and your queen present…do you not wish to be presentable?”
“Queen Gala is my mother. She’s seen me in a far worst state. Show her in, Henna.”
The confused expression made way for disbelief. Amelie noticed her eyes clouded in thought but the maid shook her head and cleared her expression. Her mouth broke into her usual morning grin but Amelie could have sworn it was strained. Henna took her bustling to the door chamber door. “Yes, yes, of course,” she kept repeating as she disappeared from view.
Amelie clutched a bedpost and willed the sharpness in her breath to calm itself. Prince Seth’s absence was inevitable and she should have not let herself get so carried away. She straightened herself as Queen Gala swept into the room. Amelie’s head dipped slightly in a hollow show of respect.
“Mother.”
“Amelie.” The queen looked over her daughter with a frown. “They have been treating you well?”
“Yes, Mother.”
“Your room is acceptable?”
“Yes, Mother.”
“The food. It is fit for your station?”
“It is far beyond fit for a prisoner, Mother.”
The Queen’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Your sharp tongue comes from your father. I’ve never cared for it.” She sighed and absently ran her hand over a vase on a side table. “I have not seen you these six months at least, daughter.”
“The king has needed my services on several missions. This you know.”
“And yet you have seen Claudia.”
“I have no quarrels with my sister.”
The queen’s eyes flashed. The same emerald green she’d passed on to Amelie. Her skin, several shades lighter than her daughter’s and subtly lined around her eyes and mouth flushed an angry crimson. “An old and tired argument,” she hissed.
“Not to me.” Amelie felt her own anger bubble into her chest.
“The sooner you accept your gift, the sooner you can utilize it.”
“My using it landed me a prisoner in Draeden,” Amelie snapped.
“Not these petty missions the king has you running about on. True power. On the throne. Use these missions as practice for the things you can achieve. This is a blessing.”
“You cursed me.”
“Enough!” Queen Gala rubbed her temples. Weariness etched age into her face. “This mission did not go so well?”
“It has been less than satisfactory. But not all together a waste. I’ve learned much from the people of Draeden.”
“Erase what you’ve learned, they are o
f no consequence to us. They hate magic.”
“Right now, so do I.”
Amelie and the queen glared at one another. Amelie truly did not hate magic, just her own ability. Even that wasn’t completely true. Her newfound healing talent was something that sparked her interest, something that she was eager to share with Sir Duncan the first chance she had. She withheld the information from her mother now. The only ties left between them were blood and Amelie would sever that one as well if she could.
“Besides, Mother,” Amelie added. “It seems as though they are of consequence to us. Or used to be. You were friends with Queen Emelda?”
Amelie rarely saw her mother with anything other than a cool, careful expression. The look of shock she wore now hadn’t contorted her features like this since learning of Phillip’s death.
The door opened then and Prince Seth walked into the room.
“Amelie, I-“
He stopped short upon sighting Queen Gala and gave a short, embarrassed bow. “Your majesty,” he addressed her hastily.
Queen Gala composed herself, raised her shoulders, and circled him slowly. She was an impressive woman, dark straight hair coiled into a bun, sharp, wide eyes cornered cat-like at the temples and a slender frame. She wore heavy maroon fabrics draping the length of her arms that pronounced her movements. She regarded the prince harshly.
“This is how you address my daughter?”
The prince did not flinch.
“I would not reveal my title,” Amelie put in quickly before he could speak. “No one in the palace knows I am a princess.” She concluded this statement with a quick glance to Prince Seth. He confirmed her silent question with an imperceptible nod. Amelie felt braver as she continued. “In fact, your presence exposes the fact that there is still an elder princess. It won’t be long before the other three kingdoms know.”
“Millie returns to the castle with word that the Draedens have taken you prisoner and you will be executed for espionage. What did you think would happen? You are still my daughter, whether or not you wish to see me. You do not belong to those nuns.” She paced the length of the room. “The king was beside himself. But the kings do not cross border lines so I came as the next powerful option. We would not risk any less.”