Collection 1

by Therese A. Kramer

  Collection 1

  Thérèse A.Kraemer

  Copyright Therese A. Kramer 2013

  Published by Spangaloo at Smashwords

  Spangaloo Edition

  http://spangaloo.com

  ©Thérèse A. Kraemer

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  Four short stories

  PRINCE CHARMING

  DREAM WEAVER

  PEOPLE OF THE MIST

  THE DUKE’S DAUGHTER

  PRINCE CHARMING

  Chapter One

  “Damn! Nothing on the boob tube but repeats,” Zoë mumbled beneath her breath and then plopped herself down on the couch with a dramatic sigh. Sheesh, here I am twenty-nine years old and my only friend is the TV, and that freaking thing is boring. And the bar scene was okay for, maybe twice, but now it became depressing, and seemed mindless, as all the men she met.

  “Okay, Zoë,” she scolded herself. “Open a book and read.” She got off the couch and gazed at her book case deciding to pass over a romance novel, since she was already in a blue funk. Besides, men in those books are simply obsolete, and it was a damn shame! She smiled at her conclusion, and then shrugged. On second thought, just to be fair, men nowadays had their good points. Heading for the fridge she declared aloud, “When one is bored, one eats.” After a minute of indecision, she grabbed a big red apple. Strolling back to the living room she sat once again and bit into the juicy fruit. Too late she realized she had swallowed too big of a piece. She choked and gasped for breath but was unable to dislodge it. Oh God, I’m going to die.

  Her lungs screamed for air and tears formed behind her lids. Panicking she tried to think of what to do but she was so frightened that her mind refused to focus on a solution. Clutching her throat she again tried to cough but the object felt like a rock and the obstacle continued to block her air passage. Zoë staggered to the phone but the room tilted and tears clouded her vision. Now her head was buzzing, and all she could think about was that a freaking piece of fruit was about to take her life.

  If she only knew that eating a piece of fruit was not good for her health, she would have opted for a dish of ice cream.

  That was her last logical thought.

  Chapter Two

  “Your Highness, perhaps ’tis time to give up this foolishness,” proclaimed Walter. There were times, like now, when he felt that he had been the prince’s servant for too long.

  “Never Walter! There has to be some one who is---”

  “Sire, ye have tried ye best but….” Walter sadly shook his head. “Ye’re becoming the talk of the kingdom. The gossipmongers are having a---”

  “Just hand me my sword, ye old fool,” grumbled his prince. “Yer jawing ’tis grating on my nerves. Being a mother hen does nae become ye. If I wanted to be nagged I would still be living with the queen at her castle, and yer rolling of yer eyes ‘tisn’t a deterrent, ye are my servant nae my conscience.”

  Walter snorted. “Ye are Prince Albert Drake Charming, not a feeble minded youth. Sooner or later ye will meet yer princess; ye need not scour the countryside to search for a lass.” He sat on a bench by the brazier; even with a fire his old bones were chilled from the dampness of the room.

  Prince Albert sighed as if he had been punctured and deflated. “I am almost thirty and one years old and I have yet to find my true love.” He tied his tunic and adjusted the ruffle on a sleeve. “A princess is nae going to just appear,” he snapped his finger, “like that!”

  Walter had the urge to again roll his eyes but refrained himself. What was the use? “Milord, last month ye tried to free a princess who had been locked in a tower.” He scratched his whiskered chin. “What was the lassie’s name? Rachael? No. Repunsel. Humph! After ye risked yer foolish neck climbing up the tower by just the hair on her head, the wench refused to be set free saying ye were nae her type.” His hands went up in frustration. “I say my prince, what’s the matter with the weaker sex today? Ye would think that…. Oh, what’s the use? Ye do nae listen to me,” he grumbled.

  Walter stood hearing a few bones creak and shuffled over to a window to look out, he felt as bleak as the gray clouds. His rounded shoulders seemed to slump more and more each new day. He was not getting any younger and cared for the prince since the lad was weaned from his mother’s breasts, and he loved the man, but Albert had always been a handful.

  His queen mother had been widowed before the prince’s birth, and he was the only father figure for the youth. The queen wasn’t and would never be a mother to the prince; she was vain and loved only herself. And he knew his place, a mere servant but he also knew he had the right to lecture the man. After all, it was he who taught the prince all he knew. Walter was father, teacher and servant all in one. Oh, the prince tried to be stern with him but Walter knew Albert loved and respected him.

  Again he would speak his mind and said, “And what about that one, err… Beth. Betty. No, Bell. Said ye were too handsome and said she liked men who looked,” he groaned, “more beastly. And---”

  “Oh, all right! I get yer gist Walter! But I am nae giving up!”

  Walter turned with a shrug and handed the prince his gloves. “Ye’ll be the death of me.” But he was not a man to give up easily either and said, “Do nae forget the princess who had been asleep for a hundred years. Ye were nae even given a chance to save her when three fairies threatened ye with a spell if ye did nae leave. Have ye forgotten that?”

  “Nay, Walter but I am still going to find my princess this time. I shall nae return without one.”

  Stubborn fool. His master isn’t exactly like one would someday read about in story books, thought Walter, but he had to admire the man’s constitution. He just prayed that the prince wouldn’t lose his handsome head in his quest. There are things worst than being a bachelor, like death!

  Chapter Three

  Three months later Prince Albert entered a clearing in the middle of a forest. To say that he was tired and frustrated would be the understatement of the century. He had met a strange little man named Rumplestilkin, who was in a foul mood. And then he stayed in a charming house that would have been more pleasant if it weren’t for two ugly sisters drooling over him. The only pleasure was someone singing so beautifully in what he believed was the attic. When he asked about the voice and its owner, he was told that she was only a step-sister who lived apart from the others. He could only assume that she must be even uglier than her sisters, but she had a voice like a bell.

  Maybe Walter was right, he mused as he sat on his steed. He was about to turn and give up his quest when he heard weeping. Nudging his horse forward he came upon a strange sight; seven dwarfs were kneeling around what appeared to be a glass casket. Curious, as to why a glass coffer lay in the middle of the forest, he dismounted and came forward.

  “She’s dead,” he overheard one little man sobbed. Another blew his big red nose. Then another teary eyed man stood not adding much to his height, only reaching his waist.

  “What happened to her,” asked Albert. His heart almost stopped upon looking at the beautiful maiden lying in state.

  “She was poisoned with an apple,” informed another and then he went into a fit of sneezing.

  “Bah, humbug!” growled another. “She was tricked by the wicked queen.”

  Another came forward. “She was too lovely to bury so we put her in a glass coffin.”

  Albert wanted to agree, she was
the loveliest maiden he had ever seen and it was just his luck to find the one he could love for eternity, and discover her too late. He swallowed and cleared his throat. “Please, I have never seen such white skin and red lips on a maiden. I must kiss her, with yer permission, of course.”

  All mumbled among themselves, and then one shyly said, “We cannot see any harm. We all loved Snowy, and she had given us so much happiness for a short time.” He blushed and stepped back.

  The cover of the glass bubble was lifted and Albert held his breath. “She’s exquisite,” he whispered before bending to place a kiss on those desirable lips. The softness sent shivers down to his booted feet. To every one’s shock, the beauty gasped and her eyelids fluttered; astonished, all stared in disbelief. Albert leaned closer and she gasped and coughed again. Something flew from her mouth, hitting him on his chest.

  Dumbfounded, he jumped back.

  Zoë felt a rush of fresh air fill her lungs; it was painful at first. Somehow she realized that she was alive but her eyes remained closed thankful that she was finally able to cough up that piece of apple. She swore at that moment that apples were off her list of fruit. So much for an apple a day keeping the doctor away, she thought. But she should be thanking God and not complaining because by some miracle she was alive. At least she believed she was until she opened her eyes.

  If this is heaven God, I must have been one hell of a good girl.

  Zoë was staring into the face of the most handsome man she had ever laid her eyes on. Or was it the countenance of an angel? She blinked.

  The face smiled and with a shaky hand she dared to touch it.

  He was warm; flesh and blood! “Oh, my!” she gasped, “You are indeed real.” The face nodded. “You must be my knight in shining armor,” she whispered jokingly.

  He took a hand and kissed it tenderly.

  She smiled and sat up. “You saved my life, but how?” she asked mystified.

  He shrugged. “I only put my lips on yer sweet mouth,” he explained.

  “Oh! You gave me mouth to mouth resuscitation. Well, thank you again.” Still oblivious to her surroundings, she asked, “What is your name doctor?”

  “I am Prince Albert Drake Charming,” he bowed.

  Zoë giggled thinking that he was taking this a bit too seriously. Prince Charming, indeed! Well, she was just too happy to be alive that she would play his little game. “Prince charming, huh?” she murmured and then she finally took her gaze off his handsome face and looked around.

  “What the…? Hey, what’s going on? Is this a joke?”

  I knew this was too good to be true, she thought.

  She was definitely in a coma and maybe she had jumped the gun and thanked the Almighty too soon.

  Chapter Four

  A small voice made her look down. Dwarfs? Okay, God, I admit that I wasn’t a good girl, but this… She shook her head trying to shake some sense into it. Either I’ll wake up, or I’m really dead. She glanced again at the handsome man and thought, Well hell! The other side might not be so bad after all.

  From a high-pitched voice, she heard, “Snowy, you were poisoned by a witch.”

  Could she open her eyes any larger in astonishment? This was all too unreal. Here she was surrounded by a handsome man claiming to be Prince Charming and … one, two, three, four, five, six, no, seven little men. Damn! This was preposterous! Not to mention asinine! “Look, I don’t know what is going on but…

  Snowy? Seven little drafts? Poison apple! This was definitely a joke.

  But of course, she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Laughter won out but she laughed only to hide how frightened she was. Swallowing her fear she said, “Please do not tell me that you think I am this….” no, she covered her face. Maybe if she waited a moment or two before looking again this would all be gone and she’d be in a hospital room. Yes, all she needed was a few minutes to come around and wake up, and then she’d have a real laugh at all of this. She ordered herself to take a few good deep breaths and then---

  “Snowy!” a voice called and she groaned aloud. Apparently, they were still there but she continued to cover her eyes.

  “Go away; you’re all a figment of my imagination! A strange dream. And furthermore, my name is Zoë, not Snowy.”

  Albert was not about to be cast aside again. He was thrilled; at last a princess who believed in him. His determination wasn’t for naught. Overwhelmed with joy, he was going to take her back to his kingdom if he had to tie her to his horse! She was a little strange, but he figured that the witch had put a hex on her. It mattered not; he would break the spell and make her his queen. Although, she was far from being a princess, he believed that this was his true love. While he was contemplating his dilemma, he heard the little men were murmuring over the same conclusion that the witch had put a spell over her.

  Zoë still refused to open her eyes and accept her fate ignoring the men mumbling amongst themselves. “Snowy,” one called to her again. She moaned and peeked through her fingers.

  “Go away! I’m not this Snowy. My name is Zoë White. “Oh, no!” she gasped realizing how much her name sounded like Snow White. Dear Lord! Maybe it would have been better if she had died. Well, at least this wasn’t hell, and it certainly wasn’t heaven, so… it must be limbo. Then, she might as well make the best of it. When she’d wake up from this, what ever this was, she’d finally have a good laugh. Might even write a book. Girl wakes up in story book character’s body. But who would believe it? It was happening to her and she couldn’t believe it. I mean, really?

  Zoë sighed, “All right,” and threw her legs over the side of the casket noticing that she was no longer in her jeans but a cream colored dress.

  Why not, she had to look the part, didn’t she?

  “What now?” she looked into puzzled faces. No less befuddled than she was of course. No one spoke. Suddenly, she was swept into the strong arms of the prince. For a dream, he was certainly the stuff that dreams were made of; handsome, strong, and gallant. She snuggled closer deciding that she might as well enjoy this to the fullest before she awakened to reality.

  Zoë was carried and placed onto a giant white horse. It was magnificent and naturally it had to be white, they were always white, especially in her childhood fantasies.

  Never atop of a horse before she felt quite nervous but when the prince mounted behind her, encasing his strong arms around her, her fears evaporated. She melted against his hard chest, now whishing that she might like to stay in this coma forever. She definitely wanted to get to knew her knight in shinning armor; her Prince Charming.

  Bye Snowy!” Voices chimed in. “Have a happy and healthy life. We will miss you. Bye. Bye.”

  Zoë turned and waved not seeing a dry eye amongst them. Caught off guard for a moment she realized that the dwarfs had to have loved the woman very much. The woman’s body she was now occupying temporarily. But the thought of returning to her own body and lonely world did not please her right now. Being in Albert’s strong arms was sending thrills up and down her spine and his hot breath on her ear was a sensation she didn’t want to stop.

  “How are ye feeling princess?” he whispered into her ear that was already tingling.

  “Like a popsicle on a hot day,” she was tempted to say but swallowed the words instead. Now, Zoë was a modern girl and had had her share of romance and she wasn’t afraid to tell a man what she liked, but this wasn’t an ordinary male. He was living in the past, and men didn’t like forward woman she knew. She played coy and sighed, “Oh, just fine.” Then she realized that he called her a princess.

  Well, why not, this was her coma.

  He rested his chin on the top of her head, not saying anything, but she was full of questions, of which she wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answers. She figured that it mattered not since her fate had been sealed by a kiss.

  Chapter Five

  Zoë awoke. The continuous rocking of the horse had put her into a deep sleep and she opened her eyes disoriente
d. It took her only a second for all that had happened to come crashing back into her head. She jerked straight up wondering how long she had been out and where they were. But she was surprised and pleased to find that she was still wrapped in strong arms. She let out an unladylike yawn hearing the man behind her chuckle. She jabbed him in the ribs and he grunted but she knew that she had done little damage to his hard body. Suppressing a giggle she smiled a little but a moment later, to her chagrin, she had to relieve her bladder. Now how does one go about telling a prince, in this century, whatever era this was, that one had to pee? Luckily, he reined the horse and dismounted.

  “We shall camp here this evening tide, milady. I am sorry that there are nay Inns about, but I shall make ye as comfortable as I can.”

  She smiled not caring a whit where she spent the night with this hunk! In fact, she was not a stranger to camping. You wouldn’t call her a Girl Scout, but she could manage nicely in the woods for one night, thank you very much!

  “This will be okay, my prince,” Zoë smiled sweetly.

  “Okay?”

  “Err, um, fine,” she blurted out forgetting about using her modern slang. “It will be just fine.”

  He gave her a puzzled glance then shrugged. “I shall go and catch us something to sup on. Ye should be able to have started a fire by the time I return, princess.”

  Not knowing how to answer that she simply nodded, but as soon as he left the area, she ran into the bushes and relieved herself praying that the leaves she used were not poison oak. Back at the campsite, she frowned as she looked about the area wondering about her dilemma.