He joined me. Vines and leaves had started to encroach, but it had clearly once been a dirt path leading down to the beach. I guess it hadn’t gotten much traffic since the hedge had gone up.
“Princess Melisande must have a home somewhere on this island. Perhaps this path leads there. I can’t think what other purpose it could have.”
I strode two steps down the path before the prince’s arm pulled me to a halt. At the same moment a sharp pain shot through my stomach. I clenched my teeth. I had forgotten the role I had to play. I couldn’t let that happen.
I allowed William to pull me behind him. “I think I should go first, Princess.”
“Please do.” I shivered. “I think I might have seen a monkey.”
The pain faded as we set off into the jungle, me cowering safely behind William. He glanced once more over his shoulder towards the hedge before we were fully swallowed up by the jungle. I pretended not to notice.
A surprising amount of moonlight made it through the canopy, perhaps because it wasn’t as dense as I had expected. Less light filtered through than on the open beach, however, and my eyes needed time to adjust. Safely out of William’s eyeshot, I put extra effort into scanning our path carefully, watching for signs of danger or anything that might lead us to my aunt.
Sailing in, the island had looked small, but on foot it seemed to go on forever. We trudged along the overgrown path in silence. How far behind us would our uncle and the guards be? Far enough to give us a chance to talk to my aunt first, but not too far, I hoped. Whatever she had to say, I couldn’t risk the kingdom. And I didn’t want to put William at risk.
He moved confidently through the darkness, his sword gripped lightly in front of him. Had I made a mistake dragging him into this? I trusted him so implicitly at this point, that I sometimes forgot he wasn’t Lanoverian. If this went badly, our kingdom would be in an even worse position than before.
In several places, a large fern had grown across the path, almost completely obscuring it. No more screeches sounded from the monkeys, but a constant undercurrent of flutters, chirps, clicks and rustles reminded me that the jungle lived around us.
Every time I heard a whoosh, I couldn’t help flinching slightly. The bats’ attack might have turned out to be relatively harmless, but it hadn’t felt like it at the time. I let the twitches continue, in case William was monitoring me.
After over an hour of walking, William called a break. The ground had been mostly flat, so I had to fake some breathlessness. In reality, I felt far from tired yet. I wanted to push on, but I made myself sit on a fallen log beside him.
My eyes had finally adjusted to the new lighting, and the jungle seemed to come to life around me. I couldn’t relax, remaining on high alert, ready for any possible danger.
William laid the sword down beside him. “You’re doing well, Princess.”
“I often walk around the gardens at home. This is just like that, except darker.” I smiled. “Perhaps when we return it will be light, and I’ll have the chance to admire the flowers.”
“Perhaps I can find some for you now.” He reached into the foliage behind the log, but his eyes seemed to have caught on my face, and he wasn’t paying attention to his questing hand.
My stomach seized. I had spent enough time in the southern jungles as a child to know you never put your hand somewhere you couldn’t see. Far too many poisonous things lived here. I opened my mouth, but my brain stalled over how to deliver the warning in a curse-approved manner.
A slither of movement flashed in the corner of my eye, and I couldn’t delay any longer. I lurched forward, throwing myself against his chest, and his hand pulled back to catch me.
He clasped me against him, making no move to push me back upright. Another flicker from behind us showed a snake, sliding off into the underbrush. I sighed in relief at the averted catastrophe, and felt William’s indrawn breath in response.
Looking into his eyes, I saw danger. I knew how I looked in the moonlight, and I had just thrown myself into his arms unprovoked. I bit my lip, wondering how to extricate myself gracefully, and his eyes flicked down to my mouth. Another mistake. It didn’t help that he could feel my heart beating as fast as his own.
I squeezed my eyes shut, and buried my face in his chest. I managed to produce a dry sob. “I’m so glad you’re here. I could never do this without you.”
A quiver ran through him, and he patted my back. “No, I imagine not. But what has brought this on.” When I didn’t answer immediately, he added, “Not that I mind in the least, of course.”
I manufactured another heaving sob. “Those bats. I suddenly remembered them all around me, and…”
He patted my back again and waited until I pushed myself off him.
I smiled, injecting a small tremor into the expression. “Shall we keep going?”
“If you need longer to rest…” William once again looked back the way we had come.
I shook my head. “Oh, no. I feel much better now, thank you.” I projected a brighter smile this time and stood up.
He reluctantly followed. Enough time had passed that I could see a faint lightening in the jungle around us. Would all of the guards be preparing to mobilise in preparation for their dawn meeting? Or had my uncle only intended to take a small unit with us? Either way, it would take them a while to realise that William was gone and not just oversleeping in his tent.
We had been walking for long enough, that I started to wonder if we had passed the midway point of the island and were heading towards the opposite beach. The path looked no more well-travelled than it had previously, and small prickles of doubt began to creep in. Perhaps this old trail didn’t lead to my aunt at all.
I examined the path itself and our surroundings more closely as we walked. Some distance further along, I noticed a slight break in the foliage. As we approached it, I slowed, examining the ground. Another path appeared, intersecting with ours. I paused between strides to stare down the new trail. Did it look more defined? Less invaded by green?
William hadn’t noticed my pause, and I had already received enough warnings from the curse that night not to call out my findings. I flung myself forward onto the ground, a sharp cry falling from my lips. He spun around, sword at the ready, but could see no danger. Stepping back, he knelt at my side. I rolled over and half sat up, clutching at one of my ankles.
“I’m sorry.” I squeezed out a tear. “I tripped.”
He shook his head, brushing away my apology, but I noticed frustration lurking in the line of his brow. He had been expecting a partner, not a burden, on this trip. He had one, of course, he just didn’t know it.
I pointed to the side of our path, towards where the other trail broke off. “I think I can see a large branch over there. If you get it for me, I might be able to use it as a sort of crutch.”
He looked sceptical but followed my directions anyway and started rummaging through the underbrush. “I’m afraid I can’t see anything that would be tall enough…Hey!”
“You found one?”
“No, but I’ve found something else. Another path.”
“A path?”
“Yes. Stay there for a minute.” He straightened and took off down the new trail at a much faster pace than we had been travelling previously. He disappeared from sight from my lowered vantage point, but I soon heard the sounds of his return.
“I think this path looks more established. We should try it.” His enthusiastic voice broke off when he saw me still sitting on the ground. “Oh. Your ankle.”
“It’s feeling better already. Perhaps it isn’t sprained after all.”
“Let’s hope not.”
I reached my hands up towards him, intending for him to assist me to my feet. Instead he leaned down and scooped me into his arms.
“I’ll carry you for a while.” He started down the new path before I could protest. For a moment I worried he would end up skewering me with his sword. But he successfully juggled us somehow, and I
had to admit his arms felt comfortable around me.
We moved at a faster pace than on the previous path – he had been holding himself back before, an indication of his perception of Celeste’s capacity. I still didn’t know what we would face if we found my aunt, however, so I soon insisted he let me walk. He needed to conserve his strength.
He set me down gingerly, and I made a show of testing my foot, before beaming up at him. “Not twisted at all. What a fortunate thing.”
He shook his head slightly, his eyes narrowing. “Indeed.” He didn’t complain, however, and I wondered what had truly motivated him to carry me. I had to confess to having dreamt about it once or twice myself.
It soon became apparent that we had made the right decision. The path grew more and more defined. And, after a while, we even saw the occasional distinct footprint showing in the dirt. My nerves intensified. What awaited us? Would my aunt attack us on sight? Was she alone, or had she somehow accumulated a rebel guard? I did a mental count of the knives I had hidden on my person. I hoped I wouldn’t have to use them, though. Not as Celeste.
Dawn broke as we stepped out into a large clearing. The increased light clearly illuminated a large pool, what appeared to be a small, cultivated garden, and a large stone house.
I blinked twice. My aunt could not have built such a habitation on her own. William nudged me and pointed to the chimney. A small waft of smoke drifted out. My eyes flew back to the doorway. Someone was home.
He raised both eyebrows, gesturing for me to retreat to the protection of the jungle. I shook my head. After a moment he sighed and started towards the house. I trailed behind, fighting the itch in my palms that told me to draw one of my knives.
A storm as big as the one we had weathered on the Viktoria erupted in my stomach. If the evening meal hadn’t been so long ago, I feared I would have lost it. How many times over the years had I imagined confronting my aunt? What would she be like after so much time alone? My usual confidence seemed to have crumbled under the eruption of a lifetime of anger and hatred and confusion. But the burn that had replaced it pushed me forward just as surely.
When we reached the wooden door, William checked that I was close behind him. When I nodded encouragingly, he lifted the latch and flung it open, entering the house blade first.
Chapter 27
The door crashed against the inside wall with a loud bang, and a blur rushed towards us, chattering loudly. William, caught off guard, swung towards it with his sword.
“No!” The scream made him halt, just as the small animal corrected its course and streaked away from us. Swinging across the furniture, the monkey jumped onto the shoulders of a middle-aged woman standing next to a small fireplace and attempted to hide in her hair.
She held a ladle in her hand, a small pot hanging over the flames in front of her. Clearly we had interrupted her breakfast preparations. In her simple garb, she looked like any other island dweller. Only her bearing and her beauty gave any hint of royal lineage.
She stroked the animal clinging to her neck absentmindedly, her wide eyes fixed on William. “I always knew someone would come eventually.” Her gaze slid to his naked blade. “I didn’t expect it to be a northerner, though. How do you come to be in possession of the Sword of Lanover?”
“Excuse me?” William seemed completely thrown off balance. “The what?”
She raised her eyebrows in polite incredulity. “You don’t know the weapon you carry? You did use it to breach the hedge, did you not?”
William shifted his weight from one foot to the other and didn’t answer.
She sighed. “The Sword of Lanover is an heirloom of the Lanoverian royal family. Gifted to us generations ago by the godmothers.” So that was how Uncle Horace had come to have it. Although my mother didn’t seem to have been aware of its presence on board the ship…
When William still said nothing, the woman continued. “Able to cut through any substance or barrier when wielded by a bearer who is pure of heart and full of truth. I suppose I should be grateful for such a noble executioner.”
William found his voice at last. “I’m no executioner, Your Highness.”
“No?” She looked slightly incredulous. “What other purpose could you have here?”
“I am an escort, nothing more. For someone who wishes to speak with you.”
“Who could possibly wish to speak with me?”
William stepped forward and to the side, revealing me standing in the doorway.
My aunt’s curious expression changed to wonder and then shock. She gasped loudly and staggered backwards, collapsing into a chair.
“Celeste,” she whispered. “You’re so beautiful. Even more beautiful than I imagined.” Tears streamed down her face entirely unheeded, as she clutched both hands to her chest. “I never thought I would get to see you again, but I’ve imagined what you must be like so many times. My imagination could not conjure such a vision, however. And you’re so grown up!” For some reason this last thought seemed to tip her over the edge, and she buried her face in her hands and wept with great, shuddering sobs.
William visibly swallowed, looking at me helplessly. In any other situation I would have smiled at his ineptitude. He had no more idea what to do with a crying stranger than any of my brothers would have.
But I was as paralysed as him. I had imagined so many variations of this scene – but none of them had ever looked like this.
For two whole minutes the three of us remained in awkward stillness. Eventually my aunt’s sobs slowed and then stopped altogether. She looked up at us, wonder still transforming her face when it fell on me.
“If my godmother had appeared and asked me what I would most like to do before I died, I would have said to have the opportunity to speak to you. And here you are.” She shook her head.
I shifted uncomfortably as William had done in my spot minutes earlier. It felt jarring to think of my aunt having her own godmother. But, of course, she was a princess and had once had a Christening of her own.
Had I entered some sort of alternate world? I hadn’t come here to fulfil my aunt’s dreams. This woman wanted me dead – had always wanted me dead. Could this be a strange attempt to lull us into a false sense of security?
I remembered her expression when William had stepped aside to reveal me. She had no reason to expect me and had clearly been taken by surprise. If this was a plot, she was incredibly fast thinking as well as an amazing actress. I didn’t believe it. But what did that mean?
My aunt stood and crossed back over to her pot. “You must tell me your story, of course. But first, can I offer you some breakfast? We can talk while we eat.”
Neither of us said anything, but she doled out three bowls of porridge anyway. When she sat and still neither of us moved, she looked up enquiringly. William glanced over at me, clearly waiting for me to take the lead, so I moved forward. None of it felt real. Perhaps I had strayed into a dream?
I sat at the table but made no attempt to eat. The storm still raged in my stomach, and I wasn’t sure it would stay down. William, on the other hand, took my acquiescence as permission to tuck in hungrily. Although I noticed he placed the sword down in easy reach.
My aunt looked between the two of us, her gaze lingering on my untouched bowl but said nothing. After several bites, she laid her spoon down on the table. “Godmother told me that I would have my chance for redemption, but I never imagined she meant it so literally.”
My mind churned, but I didn’t dare reveal any of it externally, I didn’t think I could take any more activity in my stomach. Which meant keeping my face blank. I had no approved emotions for this moment.
Her godmother visited her? Here on the island? I looked around the small, tidy home. I could see a half-finished sewing project and a makeshift broom leaning against the wall. The visions of a rebel leader faded further and further from my mind. Every indication suggested Melisande was exactly who she was supposed to be – an exiled princess living alone on a small
island.
But the rebels had been interested in her. They had sent someone to investigate her records in the palace. A vague unease stirred in the back of my mind. Had I made a terrible mistake?
“I should have guessed it, though,” said Melisande. “The Sword of Lanover was the logical tool to break through the hedge. And who better to wield it than my innocent victim?”
A surge of bile rose up in my throat as I remembered her earlier words. …when wielded by a bearer who is pure of heart and full of truth. An unpleasant tingling broke out across my scalp. Without William we would still have been stuck on the other side of the hedge. I could never have successfully wielded the sword. I had exalted at the thought of seeing this woman killed. There was nothing pure about my heart.
For years I had let myself be consumed by hate. And I had thought it was all right, because she deserved it. But it wasn’t her crime that prevented me from wielding that sword. Her guilt was irrelevant. It didn’t matter if she deserved the hatred, because I was the one being consumed by it.
For so long I had lived under a shadow. And I had believed the curse and my activities as Aurora to be responsible. Now I recognised the true source of the shadow. All these years I had been waiting for someone else to lift it from me, when I had always been the only one capable of freeing myself.
I sat there unable to speak–even after everything, I was still constrained by the limitations of the curse. And for all her surprising welcome, I had yet to hear my aunt apologise for the murder she had tried to commit. And yet, the thought of the curse reminded me of my godmother’s words all those years ago–about the lessons I still had to learn. I suspected I had finally discovered her meaning.
I was finished letting the wrong my aunt had committed against me define my life. I would relinquish all desire for revenge so that I could finally be free.
A darkness I hadn’t even recognised lifted from my heart. I breathed deeply and wondered why the air tasted so much sweeter.
My aunt watched my blank face curiously. “Is she always like this?” she asked William.
The Princess Game: A Reimagining of Sleeping Beauty (The Four Kingdoms Book 4) Page 20