As the hours passed, Marisa realized that each step toward Crocetta was one step closer to a new life without Prince Darian. The first chapter in her life was coming to a close. She hoped that the next would be a significant improvement.
No matter what the future held in store, she was resigned to accept one point as fact—there could never be a happy ending with Darian.
CHAPTER 17
CROCETTA
AS THEY ROUNDED THE bend of a large hill, a great, walled city loomed in the distance. Strategically situated on top of a mountain, the citadel resembled Abbadon, but even from a distance, it was obvious that Crocetta Castle was much larger in scale than Savino’s fortress.
When she smelled the saltwater air, she looked and saw that the hillside sloped down to meet a bustling harbor far below them. The masts of at least a dozen ships moored at the docks jutted up from the water as wagons transported people and goods from the port up to the city. The cries of seabirds pierced the skies as she glanced up to see them circling in search of food.
Waiting for them on the road was a large company of more than fifty soldiers dressed in dark, elegant uniforms with shields, swords and helmets. As they sat patiently on their horses, Marisa wondered how the men knew that they were coming and how long they’d been waiting for them. Arrie must have read her thoughts.
“These men are guardsmen of the Order of the Crimson Paladin Knights,” he whispered. “They have probably been awaiting our arrival since early this morning.”
A dark-haired, handsome man in the lead moved toward them.
“Your Highness, Lord Arrigo, the kingdom is pleased to welcome you both back safe and sound,” he said.
“Lord Domenico,” Darian said with a smile. “It’s good to see you, my friend.” He gave him a friendly slap on the shoulder.
Marisa’s jaw dropped. If she had been standing further away, she would have thought he was Darian or at least his brother. With roughly the same build as Darian, Lord Domenico had the same dark hair and square jaw. She guessed they were about the same age and noticed he wore the same military uniform.
“So, Darian, aren’t you going to introduce me to this beautiful young maiden whose heart you’ve obviously already captured?” he asked, eyeing Marisa mischievously. “How do you ever expect the rest of us to keep up with all of your conquests?”
She turned to Darian with a puzzled expression.
“Ah—right. Lord Domenico, it is my honor and privilege to introduce to you the Lady Marisa,” Darian said. The man who could easily have been his clone maneuvered his horse alongside Siena and took Marisa’s hand.
“I am most enchanted to make your acquaintance, milady,” Domenico said. He kissed her hand gently as his eyes flirted with her.
“Pleased to meet you, sire,” she answered in English.
Domenico raised an eyebrow. “And just how did you manage to stumble across such an exotic gem, Your Highness?”
“Lady Marisa was—we found her stranded near Andresis. She comes to us from a land far away.”
“Are you two somehow related?” she asked, pointing at them.
Darian and Domenico exchanged amused glances. “No, Lord Domenico is no relation to me whatsoever,” Darian said. “However, we are often asked that same question.”
“The likeness is uncanny!”
“Yes, well, some have said that Lord Domenico is my alter-ego,” Darian joked.
“What Prince Darian means to say is that I’m his better half,” Domenico said with a chuckle.
“Lady Marisa, I would beg you not to believe a word this man says,” Darian said. “For he loves to mix truth with falsehoods in such a way that one never knows when he is joking and when he is serious. But enough with the introductions—I am eager to return to my home.”
As the company turned to escort them into the city, Marisa studied the faces of the young soldiers. The men were roughly the same age as she and they were all unusually tall and broad. She wondered if there were certain height and weight requirements to serve as a Crimson Paladin guardsman.
It was already late afternoon as they entered the outer edge of the city. The houses, shops, and halls surrounded the massive citadel on three sides in the shape of a crescent moon. The fortress sat on the highest point of the mountain and towered above all the other buildings.
Crocetta was teeming with people that mingled in groups at the side of the road and individuals that hurried down the street on their way to somewhere important. The men, women, and children were all dressed in beautiful garments, and just like the soldiers, they also seemed sturdy and tall. Deciding that they must be some kind of super race of people, Marisa was stunned to note that most of the women were at least six feet tall or more.
People stopped their daily business to bow and courtesy to Darian, clapping and cheering as he passed. Most people just stared at Marisa—not in a rude way but more out of curiosity.
Once they reached the citadel, she stared in awe up at the fortification walls towering high above them. Unlike the gate at Abbadon, the iron portcullis of the citadel at Crocetta was raised, allowing people to move in and out of the castle freely. Here, the guards didn’t seem to stop anyone from entering.
They passed under an impressive stone archway and through a long tunnel under the rampart wall that ended in a large stone courtyard. The massive ramparts were at least sixty feet wide. Inside the walls at the highest point of the hill was a large fortress with seven round turrets and four larger turrets in the middle around a central tower.
In the main courtyard, several rows of colorful banners containing various coats-of-arms were draped along its walls. Arrie whispered to her that each of the banners represented a nobleman’s family crest from different provinces all across the land. She couldn’t identify some of the strange beasts on the crests.
Since the time she’d visited Disneyland at the age of five, Marisa had imagined castles to be pretty buildings with quaint pink-and-blue turrets. But now as she stood in the main courtyard of Crocetta Castle, she felt an invisible force surrounding the mighty stone citadel and the stereotype was instantly shattered.
Massive in size and constructed from the hardest rock, it was an absolute fortress and the most imposing structure she’d ever seen. The castle walls dwarfed them all in size, and all of a sudden she felt small and insignificant.
“So, what do you think of your new home?” Darian asked.
“Very impressive,” she said. “But I’ll only be staying for a few days until I can get a place of my own. Any longer than that and I might get spoiled.”
Arrie laughed. “Maybe that’s the whole idea.”
Darian escorted Marisa up a long purple carpet leading toward the main door of the castle. She started to giggle.
“Just what is so amusing, milady?” he asked with a smile.
“Oh, I’m just in another one of my surreal moments. I’m being escorted down a red carpet—uh, purple carpet by a handsome prince into his fantabulous castle. Yep, this kind of thing happens to me all the time.”
Darian chuckled as he gestured them all to go inside. As soon as they entered the Great Hall, Marisa’s jaw dropped.
The dark brown beams supporting the wooden roof were enormous and ran the entire breadth of the hall. The ceiling itself was a dark shade of indigo with intricate curls of gold trim around the edges. Beautiful stained glass windows near the vaulted ceiling cast vivid colors with the last rays of sunshine.
The hall was graced by eight golden chandeliers fitted with thousands of crystals, giving the room a particularly grand feel. The walls inside were a pale, polished stone, and the bricks themselves were several feet wide each. As Marisa was admiring the castle’s interior, three men and a woman approached and nodded to Darian.
“Lady Marisa, I would like to introduce you to the members of my household,” Darian said. “This is my head political advisor, Faustino, but we all call him Tino.”
A tall man in his early fifties with a mu
stache, graying sideburns, and a beard stepped forward. He smiled warmly at her and he exuded confidence as if he knew everything and everyone in Crocetta like the back of his hand.
“I am very pleased to meet you, Lady Marisa,” the man said with a bow.
“Nice to meet you, sir,” Marisa answered in English.
Everyone looked at her with surprise and Darian raised a hand to reassure them.
“Please do not be alarmed. Lady Marisa comes to us from a land far away, and she is our honored guest here in Crocetta. I would appreciate it if you all made her feel welcome.”
Tino nodded to her. “Milady, you are most welcome here in Crocetta, and I pray that you will afford me the honor of assisting you in whatever way I can.”
“It is an honor to meet you, milady,” said a fair salt-and-pepper-haired woman in her early fifties. She stepped forward to curtsey.
“This is Cinzia, the Baroness Macario, and member of the royal household,” Darian said, smiling at the woman. “She is the mother of Lord Arrigo, and I call her aunt, even though she is of no blood relation to me,”
Marisa smiled at Arrie’s mother. The woman was so beautiful for her age, and she admired her grace and elegance. She remembered to curtsey and made a mental note that she needed to practice that evening.
“The baroness lost her husband years ago in the shipwreck that took most of the royal family—the one I told you about,” Darian explained. “And please meet Bruno, my Paladin military advisor.”
A handsome young man with sandy blond hair and brown eyes bounced forward. He bowed to Marisa and took her hand to kiss it. She noticed he was wearing a military uniform and breastplate that was similar to Darian’s.
“This is indeed a great pleasure, milady,” Bruno said with a lopsided grin. Somewhere in his late twenties, the young man’s expression was friendly and flirtatious. He took a step backward but didn’t take his eyes off her.
“And finally, this is Cozimo, my historical advisor, head of the royal household and my personal mentor,” Darian said. “He’s been at the castle for nearly sixty years now, assisting other royals before me.”
An old man in his early eighties wobbled toward them and slowly bowed. Trying to keep his balance, Cozimo took Marisa’s hand and kissed it before raising his wrinkled face to study her.
“Eyes so beautiful—I remember eyes such as these when I first came to the palace…” Cozimo gazed intently at her and blinked several times before his eyes glazed over.
Marisa curtseyed and tried to suppress a giggle. Arrie motioned silently that the old man was a bit eccentric.
Darian said, “You will meet my mother, sister, and the rest of my staff later, but for now, you may go and rest before dinner. Baroness Cinzia will show the way to your chambers.”
As the baroness smiled gracefully and took her arm, Marisa felt clumsy. The woman led her down a vaulted corridor that emptied into a magnificent lobby. A grand staircase split in the middle and curved gracefully up on both sides to the second floor. The marble floor contained intricate mosaics of battle scenes and there were several life-sized portraits hanging on the walls.
As they ascended the stairs, she studied the paintings’ subjects and noticed that they all seemed to possess similar traits. It was downright eerie the way the faces in the portraits seemed to be staring right at her.
After they had reached the second-story landing, the baroness led Marisa down a plush, carpeted corridor. From the ornate details on the ceiling and walls, it was obvious to Marisa that these were the rooms where important guests stayed. The doors were hand-carved with nature scenes of trees, rivers, and flowers. Every bit of available space along the wall was covered with a royal portrait. Her eye caught on a particular painting when she suddenly recognized a face.
In the portrait, there was a much-younger version of the baroness standing next to a strangely familiar young man. Marisa studied the painting. He looked a lot like Arrie.
“Is that...”
Somehow Cinzia understood what she was asking.
“Yes. That was my husband and I just after we were married. He was Arrigo’s father,” she said sadly.
As Marisa listened to the translation, she felt sorry for this woman who had lost her husband so young. She suspected there was more to the story but since she was unable to speak Crocine, Marisa could only nod to Arrie’s mother.
The baroness walked to a door half way down the hall with an intricate flower carved into the wood. When Cinzia opened it, Marisa was astonished by what she saw.
The chamber was a bedroom and living room suite all together with a fireplace, a separate bathroom, and a dressing room. Although it was slightly smaller than her room at Abbadon, it was much more exquisite. There was a wooden four-poster bed large enough for two people but not nearly as large as the ridiculously oversized one she’d slept in at Savino’s castle.
After the coolness of the corridor, the room felt like an oven. Marisa struggled to unhook the clasp of her cape but impatiently pulled the whole thing over her head. Realizing the clasp had gotten caught in her hair, she groaned and tried to work it loose. Finally free of the cape, Marisa threw it over the back of a chair and explored the magnificent room.
“Beautiful,” she said, admiring the comfortable sitting area. There was a couch and bookcase filled with all kinds of books written in what Marisa guessed must be Crocine.
Cinzia opened a side door and showed her a smaller bedroom where a young woman sat. “This is Anna. She will help you during your stay at the palace,” she said.
The young girl with long dark hair jumped to her feet and curtseyed to them. Marisa nodded warmly. Cinzia moved to a large set of floor-to-ceiling windows that opened out onto a large stone terrace. She opened them and the two women stepped outside. Noticing that her room shared a balcony with rooms on either side, Marisa wondered who the occupants were.
The sweeping vista beyond the citadel walls was spectacular. Because her room faced west, Marisa had a magnificent view of the setting sun as it slowly dipped behind the distant mountains. She spotted the nearly-full moon rising on its path across the sky. The heavens were turning pink and purple with slight tinges of orange.
Still in awe of the amazing view, Marisa walked over to the railing and leaned over. Everything below her began to spin and she hastily drew back from the edge. She closed her eyes and willed the dizziness in her head to stop.
“Lady Marisa, you must prepare for dinner now,” Cinzia called to her.
Marisa walked to the cabinet to find something to wear for the evening and began ruffling through the dresses. Her hand flew to her ear when she realized the earpiece was missing. Guessing that it must have fallen out when she was messing with the cape, she dropped to the ground and began searching the floor. When she finally found it under the nightstand, she put it back into her ear and froze.
Marisa glanced at Cinzia. “Were you just speaking English a minute ago?” she asked.
Cinzia just looked at her, smiling and shrugging her shoulders, clearly not understanding what she was saying.
“Okay, that was weird,” Marisa muttered.
“Dinner will be served shortly, milady. We will fetch you once you’ve had the opportunity to freshen up.”
Cinzia had been speaking Crocine all along, so how could she understand her? Marisa listened to the English translation in her right ear as she smiled and curtseyed to Cinzia.
As soon as Cinzia left her room, Marisa peeked into Anna’s room and motioned she wanted to take a bath. Anna scurried around to fill the tub.
Strolling out onto the balcony, Marisa watched as the sun disappeared behind the mountains and the stars began to twinkle. Below her window, the night watchmen were lighting torches along the walls of the citadel, creating a soft glow across the courtyard.
A door shut loudly behind her. As she saw a candle being lit in the room next to hers, Marisa drew back quickly into the shadows. She slowly leaned over and peered through the window.
Sitting on the bed at the far side of the room was a beautiful young woman slightly younger than Marisa. She had dark eyes and an olive complexion, and her long, black hair was twisted into an elaborate braid down the entire length of her back. She wore a dark blue dress and a single strand of sapphires around her neck. From the elegant way she was dressed, Marisa guessed she must be a member of the royal family.
The young woman was engrossed in reading a letter. Marisa leaned over to get a better look. Her earpiece dropped from her ear and bounced across the stone floor of the balcony. The young woman glanced up at the windows and Marisa quickly pulled back. She waited a couple minutes before she stepped over to retrieve the translator. When she peered into the room again, the letter lay crumpled up on the floor next to the bed. The woman was sobbing pitifully into her pillow. Marisa knew those tears could only have been caused by a man.
Nobody is immune to shattered dreams, she thought.
CHAPTER 18
ENCOUNTERS
ANNA HAD CHOSEN AN elegant evening gown for Marisa. Although she thought it looked too formal, she didn’t feel like second-guessing the young woman who seemed to know her way around a closet.
Marisa had slipped into the gown and was quickly running a brush through her hair when she heard a soft rap at the door. She opened it to find Arrie washed, dressed, and looking dapper.
“So what do you think of your room, milady?” he asked.
“It’s amazing.”
“Perhaps we can persuade you to stay for a while?”
She shook her head. “Only until I can get a place of my own.”
“Darian and I have been discussing that, and we have a few ideas. We’ll talk about it after you’ve had the opportunity to settle in.”
Marisa looked at him but said nothing. She knew Arrie had been charged with keeping Darian’s engagement a secret. The idea of him marrying Matilda was so depressing that she immediately pushed it from her mind.
The Carnelian Legacy Page 16