The Princess Fugitive

by Melanie Cellier

  His words warmed a part of her heart she hadn’t known was cold. She felt elated and victorious. There could be no stronger tie to bind him to her, after all. If he loved her, she needn’t fear his abandonment. And if someone like Hans could love her, it was justification for her actions. She hadn’t known that being loved could feel so good or so affirming.

  Without thinking about it, she leaned into his arms and tipped her face up to his, invitingly. For one long moment he stared hungrily down at her and then his arms were around her, crushing her to him and his lips came down hard on hers.

  For one breathless moment, Ava felt safe and loved and desirable. But the kiss ignited a fire that burned through her and as it went, it unleashed the torrent of emotions that she had been keeping in check ever since the night of the dance. The emotions were confusing, but much worse, they felt uncontrollable. Ava wasn’t sure how she truly felt towards her guard but she knew, instinctively, that she could not trust herself to let go. To find out and, perhaps, to fall. She could not lose control.

  With a gasp, she broke off the kiss. For one moment Hans still held her, breathing roughly and staring down at her with longing and confusion. Then comprehension filled his eyes and he stepped back, releasing her so quickly that she staggered and nearly fell.

  “Your Highness,” he said, shame filling his voice. “I don’t know what came over me. I didn’t mean… I would never… Please forgive me and believe that I will never do such a thing again.” He turned and paced the short length of the clearing, returning to stand in front of her.

  “I know that you are not for me; I have made my peace with that. Protecting you, being your guard, will be enough for me. It must be enough.”

  The last sentence was said quietly, as if to himself and for a brief second Ava wondered which of them was more scared of their own emotions.

  Taking a deep breath, Ava tried to control the flush of embarrassment that now raged across her cheeks. Her own loss of control was far more inexcusable than his.

  “This journey has been taxing on us both,” she said at last. “We’ll feel better when we’ve rested.”

  She knew she was ignoring something that could not be ignored forever but for now it was the best she could do.

  Hans seemed relieved to let the matter drop and when he set up their bedrolls, he positioned his as far from hers as was possible within the confines of the clearing. She crawled into bed and for the second night in a row, lay down with her back towards him.

  Chapter 12

  The night before she’d been sure she wouldn’t sleep but she’d been wrong. Eventually sleep had found her, plagued though it was by bad dreams. This time, no matter how she tried to empty her mind, she could not calm herself enough for rest.

  Eventually she gave up trying and faced the fear that had so quickly replaced the elation of Hans’ confession. She had thought, in those first heady moments, that his love would be the tie that ensured he never left her. But with further reflection came doubt. Only that evening he had admitted that his feelings for her were based on a lie of kindness told to him by his sister. He didn’t love her, not truly. Like so many others before him, he had constructed a fantasy to go with her beautiful face. The princess he loved did not exist.

  And one day, something would happen to shatter the false image he had created. No illusion could last forever. The more strongly he loved now, the more disgust and revulsion he would feel when the truth was revealed. And the more Ava herself relied on him, the weaker she would be when that day came.

  The more hours that passed, the clearer it became. She had no choice really. She would have to leave and leave now. For years she had prided herself on her strength. She would not fail this test.

  At first Hans had also only been feigning sleep – she could tell from the complete absence of sound coming from his still figure. But eventually, his breathing grew louder and his limbs twitched in the small movements of slumber.

  Carefully Ava eased herself out of her bedroll, keeping a closer eye on Dusty than she did on Hans. Fortunately, the horse seemed as deeply asleep as his master. There was no way she could take the horse without waking Hans and she wasn’t sure how easily she could mount or dismount on her own either. She would have to rely on her own two feet.

  Without a horse, she couldn’t hope to carry her bedroll but she did recover a small shoulder satchel from one of the saddlebags. Into this receptacle, she placed half of the food that Hans had packed and one of the waterskins. After some consideration, she added an extra knife to complement the one she had already requisitioned for her boot, and a flint.

  Fortunately the moon was mostly full and some light managed to filter through the branches. At first she made fairly good progress, buoyed on by the relief of physical activity. After an hour or so, however, fatigue began to overtake her and her pace slowed. She found herself stumbling over fallen branches and fumbling as she pushed bushes out of her way.

  At one point she followed a small creek, wading in the shallow flow of water. She had seen only glimpses of Hans’ tracking abilities but she was certain they far exceeded her own.

  After several hours, she had well and truly left the clearing behind and couldn’t have found her way back to it if she tried. In her desperation, and still unable to come up with any sensible plan for finding the Palace of Light, she had struck out into the depths of the forest rather than back towards the road. She had no more desire to run into the phantom pursuers who had chased them during the day than to be found by Hans. That he would search for her she never doubted.

  After another hour she began to question whether she could go on and to think longingly of rest. I am well and truly lost, she thought to herself, surely no one will be able to find me here. It can’t do any harm if I rest for a while.

  She hadn’t seen or heard any sign of animals so she felt no fear of being attacked while she slept. Concluding that she needed sleep, she looked around for a small clearing that would allow her to lay flat.

  And looked and looked and looked.

  The changes had been so gradual that she had somehow failed to notice the forest becoming denser. The trees stood much closer together and the undergrowth and bushes grew so thick, she couldn’t find a single flat space large enough for her body. The moon had also set as she travelled so that she could see no more than a few feet in any direction. She felt an irrational surge of fear.

  Shaking it off, she pushed onwards, hoping to make it to a clearer section of forest. But the further she went, the thicker it became until she needed to tread carefully with every step. Still she pushed doggedly on.

  When she struggled past a particularly dense bush, only to be confronted by another even thicker one, she let out a grunt of frustration. But there was no good stopping in the middle of a bush. She simply had to push on.

  As she wrestled her way free of the second bush, she was jerked backwards. Turning, she saw that her cloak had caught on a long thorn. Staring at it, she felt a shiver work its way down her body. She had never seen this sort of bush carry thorns before and she was sure that the thorn had not been there earlier. Turning and glancing around her, she was sure she saw a branch move, shutting off a small opening between two trees.

  Fighting down panic, she pushed forward at a faster pace. Everywhere she turned, her path was blocked and she began to wonder if she was hallucinating in her exhaustion. She had heard tales in her childhood of forests that had a will of their own but she could not believe that such a thing was happening here. If she was being directed down a particular path, there must be some other hand at work.

  And then, although no wind had picked up, she heard a peculiar whooshing sound around her. It seemed to swoop past her head and she ducked, cradling her face in her arms. As the sound grew louder it began to come from all around her. She tried to convince herself it was just the sound of rustling leaves but it sounded far more like whispers. Ghostly echoes that swirled around her and bounced back at her out of the shado
ws.

  Panting for breath, she kept going, pretending she didn’t see the thorns that now sprouted from every bush or the way the trees leaned menacingly towards her. At some point, she had dropped her satchel but she didn’t even give it a second thought, glad to be free of anything that hampered her flight.

  “Stupid girl.” She whirled around but couldn’t see anyone through the gloom. Her heart had already been hammering at superhuman speed but impossibly it managed to pick up a notch. She stumbled and nearly fell over a fallen branch that lay twisted into a shape of agony. Her breathing hitched and broke as she found her footing again and then, completely panicked, she started to run.

  She ran blindly, her arms out in front of her to ward off the branches and bushes that seemed to spring into her path. The voices followed her.

  “Fool.”

  “Why do you even bother?”

  “No one could ever truly love you.”

  “Don’t you know?”

  “You’re already dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead.”

  The last one seemed to echo in her mind until she felt it surrounding her, clawing at her. Pulling at her clothes and climbing in through her nose and eyes and ears and mouth.

  At last she couldn’t take it anymore and poured all her energy into a final, desperate scream. It was a broken sound and she wasn’t sure if it was a cry for help or a final surrender to the darkness and the voices.

  She began to fall but was consumed by blackness before she touched the ground.

  Part 2 - Asylum

  The Guard

  When Hans was fifteen years old, his life fell apart. In the years that followed, he often thought about the suddenness with which everything unravelled.

  By fifteen, he had already earned a reputation amongst the guards. The captain had taken him under his wing and there were rumours he was being groomed to fill the role when the older man retired.

  Hans’ father was a groom and his mother a general servant so his rapid advancement was a great honour for the family. With Hans’ younger sister starting to make a name for herself in the palace kitchens, his father often boasted that he had the two best children in the kingdom.

  And then it all came crashing down.

  Everyone knew the queen was dying, had been dying for years. And everyone agreed that the king was a harsh man; court was a cold place without his wife’s influence. But the king was also intelligent and Rangmere’s economy still prospered.

  Some of the older folk muttered that the kingdom wasn’t as safe as it used to be and predicted a dire future for a kingdom so lacking in love. The most cautious folk moved away, resettling in Arcadia or Northhelm or even the more southern Lanover.

  But most people stayed and if they kept their sons and daughters a little closer to home they figured it was worth it to avoid the disruption of uprooting. Hans’ aunt and uncle had been amongst those who chose to leave, establishing themselves in Northhelm, but his parents hadn’t even considered joining them. Not when Hans and Hanna were doing so well.

  And then one day Hanna had come home in tears. She was leaving that night, she had announced. The princess had arranged passage for her with a merchant caravan leaving for Northhelm. All chance of an apprenticeship to the pastry chef was gone and if she didn’t leave that night she would be subjected to a public flogging the next morning.

  In growing outrage, Hans had listened to her story and realised that the king was responsible for this crime against his sweet sister. His sister who had never done anything but support the royal family.

  His first thought had been to accompany her but his parents had vetoed this suggestion.

  “You are committed to the guard,” they had reminded him. “If you leave now, they will consider you to have abandoned your post. They would pursue you both. Hanna’s best hope of escape is without you.”

  He had been forced to acknowledge the wisdom of their words.

  “We will pack up our belongings and follow you with the next merchant caravan,” his parents had promised Hanna.

  And so, with one fell swoop, King Josef had deprived Hans of his entire family.

  Of course, Hans was rather inclined to place some of the blame on Princess Ava’s shoulders. After all it was the princess who had led Hanna into the prank she was being punished for. But Hanna had pleaded with him not to blame her friend.

  “You don’t understand,” she said. “She’s grieving for her mother and her horrible father hounds her to death. I’m scared for her. I don’t know how she’ll cope without me. I saw it today when her father threatened me: she shut herself off and she’s going to lose herself entirely. I won’t be the cause of that. You can’t let her father win!”

  “What am I supposed to do?” the young Hans had asked, resenting this suggestion that he extend his protective instinct to cover the princess.

  “Guard her, of course!” Hanna had said. “Keep her safe!”

  Reluctantly Hans had agreed. And with all his family gone and his loyalty towards the king in tatters, he found himself glad of a cause.

  It was only two months later that the princess was attacked. The attackers had been hired by the king to test her personal guard. Princess Ava was unharmed but only because the attack had been a test. Her guard had failed and King Josef had responded by executing the man.

  The Royal Guard had been in an uproar with none of the senior guardsmen willing to take over the position. Some even began to mutter about taking their families and joining the general exodus. Hans, however, had seen his opportunity and stepped forward. It was both a significant promotion and a significant risk but he had more than proved himself capable. The captain of the guard, reluctant though he was to lose his protégé, could do nothing but agree to the request.

  That had been five years ago and many things had changed since then. Only one had not. Hans would do whatever it took to protect Princess Ava.

  His first thoughts of the day were usually about her location and security but when he awoke in the early hours of the morning after their kiss, he was assaulted by a bewildering array of emotions.

  He had been reliving their embrace in his dreams and he could still feel and taste her as he became aware of the world around him. But the joy of the dream was immediately soured by a certainty that something was wrong. All the anguish of loss and shame from the night before rushed over him. He had been weak enough to give in to his feelings and it made the burden of his hopeless love harder to bear. For a moment he thought it was this harsh reality that he sensed. But in another moment he was sitting up, staring around wildly, his heart pumping with fear.

  The moonlight illuminated an empty clearing. Ava was gone.

  Her bedroll remained and there was no sign of a struggle, nothing to indicate she had been dragged from it unwillingly. He leapt out of his own bed but forced himself to wait, listening carefully in case she had merely stepped out of the clearing to relieve herself.

  He could hear no sound of movement in the surrounding forest and he was able to force himself to wait and listen for only a minute before he launched into action. With great rapidity, he considered and rejected several impossible explanations for her disappearance. The fear he felt at losing her was greater than any he had felt before. The only exception had been several moments during the height of the battle between the merchants and the guards when he had been unable to locate her. But on that occasion it had been two minutes at most before he heard her calling for him. And already he could feel his panic escalating beyond the fear of that occasion.

  A close examination of the clearing revealed their supplies had been tampered with. Kneeling beside the saddlebags, Hans quickly identified what was gone. Given what had been taken, there was little doubt that Ava had packed a bag and taken off into the forest.

  Hans was immediately swamped with guilt. The situation was his fault. He had allowed himself to be overcome and had acted recklessly and now Princess Ava had fled from him. If anything happened to her, he would be doubly
responsible.

  Hans had no illusions about the girl he loved. He was aware of the way she had locked her emotions away. He had admired the strength that allowed her to do it even while he cursed her father for making it necessary. He had watched over her for years, even before his feelings had transformed into something stronger. No one knew Ava better than he did.

  As a commoner towards his princess, his actions had been treasonable; as a guard towards his charge they had been unprofessional and irresponsible. But worst of all, his actions had recklessly endangered the emotional wall with which she protected herself. And he had done it at a time when they were both vulnerable and unable to afford any distractions.

  He had to find her and find her quickly.

  It wasn’t hard for Hans to locate Ava’s trail. She had headed into the deeper forest and with regret, Hans was forced to un-hobble Dusty and leave the horse to fend for himself. He could only hope the animal would be waiting for them when they returned.

  Their supplies he left in a small hollow on the edge of the clearing, covering the bags with several branches. He took only the remaining waterskin since he needed to move as fast as possible. Bending almost double, he confirmed the direction of Ava’s tracks and set out after her.

  He was able to pursue her swiftly and he felt confident he was gaining ground until he lost the trail in a shallow creek. He wasted valuable time picking it up again, hampered as he was by the waning moonlight. The whole time he tortured himself with thoughts of the many disasters that could befall her, alone in the forest. Two knives seemed little defence against the dangers conjured up by his imagination.

  Thankfully, the trail became easier to follow after the creek since the undergrowth thickened considerably. Signs of her progress were everywhere and he could even smell the sharp aroma of leaves crushed by her passage.