by Sarah Olson
Almost at once, the guests bowed.
“Welcome my people,” said King Luther as he stood by his throne.
Everyone straightened at his greeting.
“I would like to thank you all for coming and helping celebrate this year’s harvest. It is wonderful to see so many of you here, since the Autumn Ball would not be possible without its guests. So my ladies, my nobles, and all my other guests, without further ado, let the dancing begin.”
Perfectly on cue, the musicians began to play a waltz, and the guests cleared the middle of the ballroom as couples began to dance.
“May I have this dance,” Rupert asked Emily with a bow and outstretched hand.
“Of course!” she exclaimed excitedly. “It was good to meet you Layla. Have fun!”
Rupert twirled her onto the dance floor and disappeared among the other couples leaving me alone. I left the dining tables and sadly found myself by a bowl of fruity punch.
I watched the rainbow of fabrics swish around the dancers as the men spun their partners. It was mesmerizing. As I watched, my hand ended up with a glass of punch that I used to erase the taste of wine from my mouth.
I am not sure how long I stood there, but a voice snapped me out of my daze.
“Are you going to drink all the punch, Lady?”
I spun around quickly to find the prince watching me. I looked down into my glass shyly and noticed it was filled to the rim except I clearly remembered drinking it.
“I’m sorry,” I apologized, bowing my head so my confusion would not be taken as disrespectful.
“No apology is necessary,” he said, his finger gently raising my chin so I could look at him. “I will just make sure the cooks know how much their punch was enjoyed.”
His touch sent a tingling down my spine, and I resisted the urge to pull away.
“I don’t believe I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting you, Lady. What is your name?” he asked, smiling.
His hair was blonde and neatly combed back. If I remembered correctly, he was two years my senior and looked it. He was very handsome and his gentle brown eyes made it difficult to look at him. The prince resembled a much younger version of his father and I felt like I was looking upon King Luther himself. His chest was fairly broad, but that was the only thing that could be interpreted as menacing. Except for his well-tailored doublet and blonde hair, something about him reminded me very much of Tristan.
“Layla Fallon,” I replied, focusing on his mouth so he would not think I was being rude.
“That’s a unique name. I’m Prince Richard.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” I said with a curtsy.
“I must say that dress is quite stunning. I’m sure every young lady has envied you tonight.”
“You flatter me, your Highness, but I doubt any of these women would see me worth envying.”
“Then they haven’t seen your eyes.”
I felt the blood rush to my cheeks.
Was I in a dream, or was the prince actually complimenting me?
I was tempted to pinch myself to see if I would wake up in my bed back home and find out the day had not even begun.
“I don’t know what to say,” I said, still avoiding his eyes.
“Say you will dance with me,” he said, offering me his hand.
I stared down at his gloved hand for a second, then put my glass down and took it. He led me out to the middle of the floor between the waltzing couples and slid his hand around my waist. I hesitantly placed my hand on his shoulder and he began to whisk me around in perfect tempo with the current waltz. I concentrated hard as I remembered the steps Robert had taught Charlotte and me one summer—Tristan teased us the whole time. That was up until Robert paired him up with me.
As we spun across the dance floor, I felt the eyes of jealous women boring into my back, appalled that a commoner was dancing with the prince.
The taste of blood sprang onto my tongue as I realized I had bitten down on the inside of the cheek.
“Do I make you nervous?” he asked, laughing. “Relax, I don’t bite.”
“Oh, forgive me—I haven’t danced in a while,” I said, focusing on his mouth.
“Stop apologizing—and smile, won’t you? You look like a frightened lamb.”
I was not sure whether that was a compliment or insult. He must have seen it in my face, for he quickly added, “A very beautiful frightened lamb.”
Did he just call me beautiful?
My mind screamed in confusion, but despite it, I managed a smile.
“There you go,” he said, spinning me with one arm.
We danced in silence for quite some time, allowing me to concentrate on loosening my muscles. He was an excellent dancer—which was expected, and the longer we danced, the more at ease I felt.
“Are you feeling more comfortable?” he asked.
“Yes, I think so.”
“Good, so where are you from?”
“Maplewood Forest. Close to Eagle’s Nest. My aunt and uncle own a farm in the outskirts.”
“I didn’t know commoners dressed so well,” he said jokingly.
“We have our moments,” I grinned.
“What’s it like to live on a farm?”
“Well, it’s much different. First of all, we never have parties as extravagant as this. I have to admit turning sixteen and finally being allowed to attend the royal balls is really the only thing us girls dream about.”
Richard laughed. “That seems a bit extreme don’t you think? Or am I offending you because it is what you dreamt about?”
“None taken,” I replied. “And it has been a dream of mine but, I’d also say my dreams are of one day marrying and raising children.” I almost bit my tongue at my words. The blatant honesty of my answer surprised me. I had just met the prince and I was speaking as if I had known him forever.
“Well I’m glad you were able to, and your dreams seem simple but delightful. You cannot imagine what some girls tell me. It’s like they want to impress me so they say things like ‘I want to live in an estate where servants wait on me and I can have whatever I want.’”
“It must be awful to have to listen to them,” I said with a laugh.
“I know— it’s as if that is supposed to impress me.”
“Do you want to be impressed?”
“Sometimes, but not like that. In the end, they try so hard they make it worse for themselves.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m expected to announce a royal engagement in three months,” he sighed.
“That’s so soon and you can’t think of anyone? I mean you’re the prince, any young woman would be happy if you chose her.”
“I have a few in mind,” he said, winking.
It surprised me his wink did not make me nervous. I was feeling rather comfortable with him and I was enjoying his obvious flirting. I no longer felt like I had just met him. I felt rather at ease and his attention made me feel important.
“Would you like to take a break from all this dancing and go for a walk?” he asked.
“I would love to.” The prince wanted to walk with me!
He smiled and gave me his arm. Prince Richard led me past the wide-eyed guests and through some doors that led to a brightly lit patio and a garden that sloped downwards, glowing in the moonlight.
We walked in silence, and then he said, “It’s probably the reason I chose to greet you.”
I kept my eyes forward on the winding path through perfectly trimmed bushes and flowers. “I’m not sure I quite understand, your Highness.”
He stopped and I let go of his arm.
“Well, you were the only girl that didn’t follow me around the entire ballroom with your gaze. But that could easily be explained by the way you were so engrossed with that punch.”
“It was a very good punch,” I said in my best flirtatious tone.
I could not believe I was trying to flirt with him. This was absurd. I was not the type of girl to rec
eive the flattery he was giving me, especially when we had only met less than an hour before.
“And I believe it. But you see, I find interest in people who don’t seem to find it in me.”
“Don’t let that get around, or you’ll find yourself becoming interested in every female in the kingdom.”
“Then you better not tell,” he said with a wink.
I wondered how many girls he had taken on this walk and had spoken to in this manner. “I’ll try, but you are just lucky I don’t have any friends that like you enough to want to be your princess.”
“That so?” he asked, crossing his arms and leaning against a tree.
“I’m afraid so, your Highness,” I said sadly. “It looks like your only choices will have to be nobles’ daughters.”
“Except I don’t like any of them. They are stuck high among the clouds—completely lost in their riches and glory.”
“And you aren’t?” I asked. “Forgive me, your Highness, but isn’t that what a royal family is known for?”
“King Hector wasn’t known for it, neither was his queen.”
“What about your family?”
“I’d like to think we aren’t, but I’m not sure. What do you think?”
“I wouldn’t be able to judge right now, I don’t know you well enough.”
“Hmm,” he said after a moment, “you intrigue me, Layla. I would like to get to know you better if you would allow me. Then perhaps after a while, you can tell me what you think.”
“I’m flattered, your Highness, but I live far and would be unable to come see you.”
“I’m the prince, I’ll find a way,” he said, flashing a sly smile.
Behind us, I heard the clock strike ten. The time had flown by and my driver said he would be waiting outside at this time to start the journey back.
“I had a wonderful evening, your Highness. But I’m afraid I must go, it’s a long way home,” I said, curtsying.
“Please, call me Richard. And expect to see me sometime, Layla,” he said, taking my hand and gently kissing it.
“I shall, good night.” The thought of him coming to see me sent butterflies fluttering in my stomach.
“Good night.”
I walked away with my thoughts in shambles. The way I acted with him perplexed me. I was so comfortable with talking to him, and even flirted with him. It was difficult to believe he actually could have meant everything he said. Perhaps he did not and would laugh this night off with his friends and I would never see him again, but I felt like he did. Why else would you spend much of the ball with someone you barely knew, and a commoner for that matter?
I had no idea how I was going to tell Betsy and Robert I had danced with Prince Richard, so I settled with feigning sleepiness when I returned home, all the while dreaming of the prince.
Chapter 5
THE NEXT MORNING when I woke, I stayed in bed and watched the flickering rays of sunlight dance across the ceiling. My thoughts were spinning uncontrollably as I replayed the events from the night before. They dwelt on Richard. I hoped he would come and visit.
I got up and headed to the kitchen that greeted me with silence.
Where was everyone?
I took an apple from the fruit bowl and wandered out to the barn. Robert and Betsy were nowhere to be found. It was strange of them to disappear on a Sunday without a word. I gave up my search and opened the back door in Dusk’s stall so she could graze in the small paddock behind the barn.
“I had the most wonderful time at the ball last night,” I told her as I stroked her mane. “I met the prince, and we danced and danced. All the women were so jealous but I did not mind. I’ve never felt so special.”
Dusk perked her ears and I hugged her neck.
I stared up into the bright blue and cloudless sky, and hummed a waltz as I imagined dancing with the prince. The cool breeze rustled the golden leaves on the trees and sent them cascading down to the ground. I spun, laughing, as they fell around me. Nothing could undo the happiness I felt at this moment. I pictured Prince Richard’s handsome face as I leaned into Dusk and closed my eyes. For once, it felt like impossible dreams could come true. Someone as common as me could really mean something.
After about an hour, I heard the wheels of Robert’s wagon roll up. I ran to meet them as he helped Betsy down from the wagon.
“Good morning, Layla!” he said, cheerily. “Help your aunt inside while I put the wagon away.”
Betsy and I walked into the house as she coughed into a handkerchief.
“Where did you go?” I asked.“To town. I’ve been coughing these last few nights and you know your uncle, always worried over me getting sick, so he took
me to go see the town’s physician.”
The truth was it was probably the other way around. Betsy was the worried one, not Robert.
“Regardless,” she said quickly, “the physician said I’m fine and it is just a cold.”
“No, he said it’s probably just a cold,” Robert said, joining us, “and that you need to take it easy for a few days so you can get better.”
“Same thing.”
“By the way, Layla,” he continued, “your aunt and I heard the most peculiar rumor in town today. A girl with a beautiful emerald gown went to the ball last night and swept the prince off his feet.”
I shrugged as blood rushed to my cheeks but tried to keep my composure. “I had no idea there was another young lady with a dress like mine.”
Betsy raised an eyebrow at my pitiful attempt to lie.
“I’m sorry!” I blurted out. “He was just so kind and friendly. He asked me to dance and I did and then we started talking, but I cut him off so I wouldn’t be late coming home.”
Robert’s face hardened. “Layla,” he began quietly.
“It’s dangerous to be around him!” Betsy exclaimed.
“Not necessarily dangerous—but he is not to be trusted.” Robert cautioned. “You don’t know what types of things his father is involved in.”
“I don’t know, because you won’t tell me! I don’t even know how you would!” I heard my voice rising. “You don’t live there—you live here, on a farm in the forest! You have never been involved with kings and queens!”
Robert opened his mouth to say something, but closed it instead. He looked hurt and I wanted to run to him and hug him, but I knew that would undermine my argument. I never disrespected Robert or Betsy like this. But I could not—would not—give in, so I bolted up the stairs and into my room.
“Layla!” Betsy yelled after me. “Come back down here!”
“Let her go,” said Robert. “It’s impossible to explain things she doesn’t understand.”
Things I do not understand? Why not just be honest with me and explain why they hated King Luther and his family so much?
I slammed the door hard behind me.
Today I had woken up full of dreams and now they were being shattered. If Prince Richard did come to visit me, what would Betsy and Robert say? Would they tell him to leave even if it hurt me—or would they try to get to know him and together, as a family, we could decide if he is evil like his father.
I sat by my window and stared out at the trees draped in their fall colors, ignoring Betsy when she called me down for lunch.
After another hour, she brought up a plate of food. “Layla,” she whispered, “your uncle was much more involved in the war Luther caused than you realize. He doesn’t just hold opinions . . . he holds memories of what he saw.”
I kept my eyes on the world outside. “It has been almost sixteen years. We have to move on sometime.”
Betsy sighed and stood there for another minute then left me in silence.
I ate the food she brought, barely registering what it was, and changed out of the chemise I was still wearing. Slipping down the narrow stairs, I snuck outside, saddled up Dusk and took her on a ride. It was time to return to the old castle I had not seen since Tristan left.
The familiar wall
s and turrets lifted my spirits as I rode up to it. I tied Dusk to a tree and climbed the crumbled wall onto the castle grounds. Everything looked the same as I headed toward the broken window and crawled through it. The candles and flint we used to use lay on the floor beside a barrel Tristan had put there to help us get down into the cellar.
I lit a candle and wandered through the corridors. I remembered how I would cling to Tristan’s hand, and how Charlotte would lag behind but catch up when an eerie sound rang through the still halls. I took stairways that seemed to last forever and found myself at a door I had never seen. The door was old and jammed, but after some pushing, its rusty hinges gave way and the door slammed into the wall behind it.
The candle cast an orange glow around the unfamiliar room. There was a large bed against the wall with torn yellowed sheets and pillows. Dark velvet curtains hung from the bed’s canopy with gaping jagged holes. Sunlight seeped in through cracks on the boards that had been crudely hammered to the wall on both sides of the bed. I placed the candle down on a small table and ran my hands down the sides of the boards trying to find a weak spot.
I pulled on a loose corner but it was no use. I scanned the room and spotted a stone fireplace by the door with long iron fire stokers piled next to it. I took one and jammed it underneath the loose corner. After a few failed attempts, it ripped away from the wall and I fell backwards onto the dusty wooden floor. Blinding sunlight poured into the room.
I had thought the boards were covering a window, but I was wrong. Behind it was a door with symmetrical square windows, like the doors Prince Richard had taken me through to the garden. I stood up quickly and pushed it open. A salty breeze hit my face as I walked out onto a balcony.
I gasped when I reached the railing. The balcony was hundreds of feet over a blue-green ocean that crashed onto the cliffs below. The expanse of it was breathtaking. It stretched out for as far as the eye could see, and the sun’s reflection glittered on the surface, making it look like it was made of thousands of mirrors. I had never seen anything more terrifying and incredible. The ocean roared below me with a great fury as its waves tried to grab hold on the cliffs. The wind blew my hair as I stared down into the jagged black rocks covered in the ocean’s foam. This was nothing like the sandy seashores I had visited when I was a child. I shuddered at the thought of trying to swim in the massive blue-green waves that thundered below me.