The Princess Fugitive

by Melanie Cellier

  Evelyn just rolled her eyes but Ava noticed a slight flush to her cheeks. The whole conversation made her think of Hans’ jokes about his dancing abilities. She assumed they would dance together and she found the idea more appealing than she would have supposed. She discovered she was very curious to see how well Hans could dance.

  “What do you think, Anna?” Sarah asked, startling her out of her reverie. “Who will Hans ask to dance first? Care to make a wager on it?”

  Her suggestion only made Ava laugh.

  “You’re such a merchant, Sarah,” she said, “always looking for a way to make an extra coin. But you won’t be making it from me. My limited funds are staying safely in my purse. Besides, I’m sure I wouldn’t have a clue who Hans would ask first.”

  “Really?” asked Sarah. “He hasn’t breathed a word to you?”

  “Well,” said Ava, drawing the word out long and assuming a reluctant expression. “He did mention…”

  “What, what? Tell me!” exclaimed Sarah, her eyes wide and voice even more breathless than usual.

  “He mentioned a certain blonde haired, brown eyed merchant girl… Renee, I think her name is?” Ava assumed a look of confused innocence.

  “Renee? Renee?!?” spluttered Sarah, apparently too outraged for words.

  But Evelyn gave Ava a small, amused smile and her cousin a sharp poke. “She’s teasing you, Sarah, you idiot,” she said. “Anna knows perfectly well who Renee is. We only listened to you go on and on about her two nights ago.”

  “Oh,” said Sarah, breathing again. “That was a good one, Anna!”

  Ava was relieved her attempt at a joke had been so well received. “I will admit, your ongoing feud with your arch nemesis has come to my attention,” she said, keeping her expression grave.

  Evelyn actually gave a short bark of laughter at this pronouncement and Ava felt a small stirring of pride.

  It hadn’t taken Ava long to realise that a merchant train was a miniature village in its own right and even a train as well managed as Caravan Hargrove had its fair share of alliances and rivalries.

  Sarah and Evelyn’s mothers were sisters and their family seemed to have a long running rivalry with the family who owned the three wagons directly after theirs in the train. Apparently the order of the wagons was determined by annual revenue and it was only in the last two years that Sarah and Evelyn’s families had moved ahead of Renee’s.

  Evelyn and Renee maintained a polite but distant tone but Sarah seemed to have thrown herself as enthusiastically into the family conflict as she did into everything else. Ava suspected she did it for entertainment as much as anything since her general demeanour was one of cheerful friendship towards everyone. And so far Ava had failed to observe Renee in any particularly offensive behaviour. In fact, the girl had been quite friendly towards her, despite Ava’s position in Sarah’s family’s wagon.

  After fuming for several minutes about Renee’s general perfidy, Sarah once again bounced back to her usual levels of enthusiasm. Sometimes the girl’s moods were so volatile, Ava wondered how she could keep track of them herself.

  “What about you, Anna?” asked Sarah. “What are you wearing?”

  This was actually a question that had been causing Ava some concern. She had packed the most practical of her gowns when she had fled the palace but they were still much too fine for a merchant girl. So they had all remained safely hidden in the bottom of her saddlebags. Instead she had been wearing the practical merchant style gowns she had purchased in the town the day before they joined Ariana’s wagon.

  Unfortunately, she had not foreseen a dance and had not purchased any party gowns. Anna would undoubtedly own such garments, however. It was a dilemma.

  “I’m not sure,” she said after the pause grew too long.

  “Oh, did you have to leave all your nicest gowns behind?” asked Sarah. “It sounds like your family sent you packing as soon as the news broke about the king. I suppose you had to leave most of your clothes in Rangmeros.”

  “Yes,” said Ava with relief. “My cousin wouldn’t let me bring any evening dresses with me.” She sacrificed Hans without hesitation, merely making a mental note to let him know of his new harsh attitude towards ladies’ wear. She wouldn’t put it past Sarah to chide him on it.

  “He said I had enough waiting for me in Arcadia.” She made a face as if offended by this perspective.

  “We’ll find something for you,” said Sarah with determination. By now they had reached the creek and were filling their buckets.

  “I’m sorry,” said Evelyn. “There’s no way you’ll fit into any of my dresses.” She looked genuinely apologetic about not being able to help. But since she was both taller and broader at the shoulder than Ava, none of her clothes would have a hope of fitting the much more petite princess.

  “Mine will be a better fit,” mused Sarah, assessing Ava with narrowed eyes as they made their way back towards the wagon. “You’re a little slimmer at both the bust and waist than I am but we’re a similar height so it should work.” She began a complete verbal inventory of all the party dresses she owned and Ava wondered at the number. Clearly her parents were more indulgent than their gruff manner suggested.

  “The silver one,” said Evelyn eventually, cutting off Sarah’s rambling monologue. After a moment’s silent consideration, Sarah nodded her agreement.

  “You’re right, as always, Evie,” she said, earning a satisfied smile from Evelyn that quickly became a glare at the use of the hated nickname.

  “You wouldn’t think it, considering what she usually wears,” said Sarah, “but Evelyn has an amazing sense of style. I’m always telling her she should put more effort into her outfits.”

  “I’m a guard,” her cousin reminded her with a shrug. “Most of the time I’d rather be comfortable than stylish. Plus, it’s hard enough getting respect as a female guard without making myself conspicuous with impractical clothing.”

  Sarah sighed but seemed to accept this argument as reasonable, letting the topic drop.

  Chapter 7

  When the first strains of music permeated the wagon, Ava realised they were going to have to give up on a perfect fit.

  “It will have to do,” she told Sarah who was standing behind her and intermittently pulling on the laces of the dress Ava was wearing.

  “I think, if I just…” the strain in Sarah’s voice gave Ava a half second of warning before all the air was expelled from her lungs by an overly enthusiastic tug.

  “Eeep,” she managed, the sound squeezing out with the air. The whole dress immediately loosened as Sarah let go.

  “You might be right,” Sarah said, circling her with a dissatisfied air. “Evelyn knew what she was talking about, the colouring is perfect on you, but it just hangs there.” She pulled a face.

  Ava had an inspiration. “Get a couple of pegs,” she said, diving towards her saddlebags.

  Sarah raised an unconvinced eyebrow but rummaged around until she found several wooden pegs.

  “Peg me up,” Ava said, presenting her back to her friend.

  “Are you sure?” asked Sarah. “It’ll look great from the front but from the back…” Even as she voiced her concerns, her hands were busy pegging the other girl into the dress.

  When Ava could feel that the dress was a snug and flattering fit, she pulled her hand out of her saddlebag, her fingers clutching her red cloak.

  “Voila!” she exclaimed, proudly.

  “Oooh,” said Sarah, instantly grasping the idea. “That’ll be perfect! And it’s still cool enough in the evenings that no one will find it overly strange for you to wear a cloak. Good thinking.”

  Ava had almost forgotten about the red cloak she had insisted on purchasing and was glad now that no one had seen her wearing it. She let it fall open at the front so that the silver dress could be seen and faced towards Sarah.

  “Ready?” she asked.

  “Ready,” Sarah said with a smile. “Now let’s get out there before Evel
yn steals a march on us.”

  Both girls tumbled out of the wagon and rushed towards the sound of a fiddle and panpipes. The musicians who had previously been tuning their instruments had just launched into the strains of their first dance number. Couples were beginning to step onto the large area of cleared dirt that had been left open in the middle of the circle of wagons.

  The space had been enclosed by a ring of logs and behind the logs was a second ring, this one made up of campfires. Many of the older members of the caravan were sitting on the logs, warming their backs and smiling at the dancers. Ava noted a surprisingly large number of faces that she didn’t recognise.

  “Where did all these people come from?” she asked Sarah.

  “Oh, didn’t you hear? Another large caravan set up camp just down the road late this afternoon. Ariana rode over and issued an invitation for any of them who wished to join us. This’ll be the best dance we’ve had all year!”

  For a brief moment Ava felt all the excitement of a girl attending a dance and knowing she looked her best. And then she remembered who she was.

  New people were unknowns and therefore represented a potential danger. She looked around a little wildly for Hans. She couldn’t see him in the crowd of people and she began to feel nervous. The circle of firelight was throwing out unusual shadows and the wagons loomed over her in a threatening manner. A flicker of darkness to her left made her flinch and peer into the gloom between two wagons. Was someone there?

  “Anna? Anna!” Sarah had continued several steps before realising her companion had stopped but she now doubled back and grabbed the other girl’s arm. “Come on! What are you waiting for?”

  She dragged Ava between two fires and into the circle of the logs.

  “Can you see Evelyn anywhere?” Sarah was standing on her toes and peering around the dancers.

  Safely ensconced inside the circle, Ava felt her heartbeat subside and even felt amused at her previous fear. She didn’t normally scare so easily! Anna was starting to consume her.

  Before she could get caught up in her own thoughts, she spied Evelyn in a gap created by the twirling dancers. The tall girl was standing talking with Hans and the sight of him erased the last of Ava’s fear.

  “Over there!” she yelled into Sarah’s ear and this time she was the one dragging her friend along. Evelyn was looking stately and elegant in her long ice blue gown and she and Hans made a beautiful, if deadly, looking pair. Looking at them, Ava felt a pang at her own short height. It was the first time she had ever considered herself wanting in physical appearance and she didn’t like the feeling.

  Sarah pulled herself from Ava’s grip and ran up to her cousin, exclaiming loudly about her dress and hair. Ava took the opportunity to turn towards Hans.

  Hans was standing completely still and staring at her and she felt suddenly self-conscious under his gaze. She thought again of how short she was compared to Evelyn.

  “There are so many new people,” she blurted out, attempting to bridge the awkward moment and then wincing internally. She didn’t think she’d said anything so gauche since she was a child. What was happening to her?

  Hans didn’t seem to notice, however. Her words had snapped him out of his daze and he stepped forward to greet her, reaching out to grip her upper arm.

  “Don’t worry,” he said, leaning down to whisper the words into her ear. “I went over to the other camp with Ariana.”

  “What?” asked Ava stupidly, struggling to focus on his words. This is the first time I can remember him choosing to touch me, she thought.

  “I volunteered to accompany Ariana when she went to issue the invitation to the other merchant caravan.” His words penetrated the fog that seemed to have descended over Ava’s mind.

  “Oh?” she asked, the word sharp and questioning.

  “Ariana knows the caravan well and she didn’t seem to notice anything amiss. She was looking sharply too. These are troubled times after all and you don’t get to be leader of the most well regarded caravan in the Four Kingdoms without paying attention.

  “I looked them over closely too. There was no one I recognised from Rangmeros.”

  Ava felt herself sag a little in relief and Hans squeezed her arm reassuringly.

  “I guess we have nothing to fear then,” she said. “That was quick thinking, well done.”

  Hans nodded an acknowledgement of her praise and then quickly stepped away from her, letting his hand drop. Sarah turned towards them eagerly and demanded both Hans and Evelyn’s admiration of the effect they had produced with Ava’s dress.

  “Sarah’s just been telling me how you got it to fit so well,” said Evelyn. “It looks great.”

  Ava smiled and felt some of her earlier good spirits return.

  “Well, are we going to dance or are we just going to stand here?” she asked the other girls.

  “An excellent idea,” said Hans, surprising her.

  “Would you like to dance?” he asked, turning towards Evelyn. She looked surprised and flattered and quickly took his offered hand. In the next breath they were both swept up into the mass of moving bodies.

  “That answers that question,” said Sarah and for once her cheerful tone sounded forced.

  Her friend’s disappointment pulled Ava out of her own chagrin. She had found the joking competition between the two cousins amusing but she had secretly assumed that Hans would ask her to dance first. She was his princess after all, even if no one else knew it.

  But hearing the emotion so clearly in Sarah’s voice embarrassed Ava. She wasn’t some merchant girl, hoping for a sign of Hans’ favour. She was the Princess of Rangmere and he was her guard.

  “I’m sure it doesn’t mean anything,” Ava said. “He’ll probably ask you to dance next. Evelyn was here talking with him first, after all. I’m sure he’s just being polite.”

  This thought seemed to cheer Sarah up because she glanced at Ava mischievously.

  “And in the meantime, there’s no need to wait around,” she said. “Hans isn’t the only newcomer here tonight as it turns out.” She threw her glance towards a group of unfamiliar young men and put on a bright smile.

  Two of them seemed to notice the girls, who were now standing alone, and broke away from their own group to approach them.

  “Would you like to dance?” a tall, dark haired young man asked Sarah, bowing over her hand with exaggerated grace.

  She smiled flirtatiously and nodded an agreement.

  “And you?” asked his friend, holding out his hand towards Ava. When she also nodded, both boys led the girls into the dance.

  Both caravans must have freed the majority of their guards to attend the event since there seemed to be a never ending supply of fit and graceful young men anxious to dance with Ava. She soon lost track of her friends, although she caught the occasional sight of them as they flashed past on the temporary dance floor. The constant shift of the dancers and the flickering light from the fires made it hard to see amidst the crush of bodies and she quickly gave up looking for them.

  Instead she gave herself over to the enjoyment of the dance, allowing all thoughts of Princess Ava to drain out of her head. She had always loved to dance so she was determined not to allow this opportunity for simple pleasure to be marred.

  The dances were slightly different from the ones she was used to dancing in the ballrooms of palaces and noble residences. They were easy to pick up, however, and there was little variation between them so she soon had the feel of it. Many times throughout the evening, she was complimented by her partner for her grace and the lightness of her feet. She drank in the praise and allowed herself to become giddier and giddier.

  The dresses of the dancers were much simpler than the ones that usually filled ballrooms but they were bright in colour and the many full skirts filled the dancefloor with swirling material. In the uneven light of the fires, the dresses flashed brilliantly and she decided that she preferred this dance to any that she had previously attended.


  There was no one watching her, no one measuring and judging, looking for weaknesses or opportunities to exploit. Instead there was the rhythmic melody of the traditional caravan music, the whirling movement, the flash of firelight on happy faces and an endless stream of enthusiastic young men who grasped her hand or her waist as the music required and swung her easily through the dance. It was intoxicating.

  Once she saw Sarah and Hans swing past her and she flashed a quick thumbs up at Sarah who grinned in response. Ava was interested, but not particularly surprised, to note that Hans was a graceful dancer.

  Usually an excellent judge of the passage of time, she quickly lost all sense of the hour. She had no idea how much time had passed when she finally collapsed onto a log. Waving away two young men who approached her, she instead accepted a cup of water offered by an older lady from Caravan Hargrove.

  Downing it in two gulps, she fanned herself with her hand and wished she could remove her cloak. Watching the remaining dancers whirl past had a strangely hypnotic effect and she began to feel fatigued. Looking around for Sarah, Ava wondered if the dance would soon be winding down.

  Before she could muster the energy to act on her thoughts, Ava was distracted by a discordant sound, coming from the other side of the dancefloor. Slowly the sound of conflict and of loud angry voices rose above the sound of music. First the pan piper and then the fiddler stopped playing. The dancing couples slowly revolved to a stop and then the dance floor erupted into pandemonium as people began to call out in fear and push in every direction.

  Ava leapt to her feet, attempting to see past the mass of bodies to the cause of the disruption. Climbing onto a log, she peered above the heads of the crowd and was met with a familiar sight. Men wearing the light armour of the Royal Guard.

  Chapter 8

  Ava quickly dropped back to the ground and looked around wildly, wondering where she should run. Before she could make up her mind, Hans materialised out of the crowd. He grabbed her hand and without a word pulled her between two fires and into the darkness beyond.