The Escape of Princess Madeline
Page 3
“I can try to help,” he offered with a smile.
“I’m sorry, you must excuse me.” She pulled out of his grasp.
“Of course,” he said, but she noticed his eyes darken.
The staircase that meant her freedom kept moving. She hadn’t noticed how far they had danced until she looked at the stairs, positioned at the far side of the room. Her escape still remained out of reach.
The music continued, and the trumpets blared in a rising crescendo. She moved in rhythm to the music, matching its tempo. Each step took her closer and closer until she felt the cool surface of the handrail. As the trumpets reached their final note and she took the first step up, someone grabbed her hand.
As she turned, her father greeted her disappointment with the next suitor. Her plan had not worked. No matter what she did, he kept bringing men over. What would it take to get him to understand?
Baron Elliot, a quiet, middle-aged man, ran the sheep farms near Morengo. Not royalty, but a wealthy merchant with business interests and extensive trading routes. Crinkling her nose slightly at the lingering smell of sheep mixed with wine, she curtseyed and touched his outstretched hand with her fingertips.
Having had a bit too much to drink, he stumbled into her as he bowed. She shot her father a look of disbelief. King Theodore raised his eyebrows in warning before walking away.
The Baron’s words were slurred as he attempted to be charming. His already-strong accent was garbled by wine, and she didn’t understand anything he said. His gestures left even more to the imagination. But she understood his eyes. Bulging and red, they raked over her body. His hand slid along the railing at her side until he leaned against her.
Madeline looked at Baron Elliot and bit her lower lip, then gave in and ran up the stairs.
She didn’t look back or stop until her bedroom door locked in place behind her. Leaning against the back of her door, she savored the victory. She had made it.
Smiling to herself, she undressed, humming a melody while pulling up the covers. She tucked herself in and smiled, prepared for the sweet dreams of success.
***
King Theodore fumed as Madeline ran up the stairs. Her attitude needed adjusting before people knew of her disobedience. His eyes wandered from potential suitors to the decorations to the dancers, and settled on a guard. An idea filtered in.
He raised his glass to the surrounding crowd.
“It seems,” he began with a glance around the room and a deep chuckle, “that the excitement of the evening has caused our Princess to feel faint. I can only hope that a good night’s rest will leave her ready for tomorrow’s feat. Instead of our normal summer tournament, I suggest we find her a champion. May our Princess have sweet dreams of suitors,” he said, winking to the gentlemen. “And may we drink and dance to the celebration at hand.”
The room roared with excitement as the band started back up. An upbeat melody left dancers laughing as they spun. Colors twirled like a living rainbow.
King Theodore sipped his glass and smiled. A few unplanned events, but everything still progressed. He had a plan, and it was nothing that a tantrum could stop.
CHAPTER THREE
The morning sunrise burst into the armory, its ruby rays matching the hot coals. A group of knights gathered around the fire pit, putting the finishing touches on their armor. The air was filled with a multitude of sounds—rhythmic ringing as they hammered out dents, the soft scraping of sword against stone, and the hiss of steam as cool water dripped onto hot coals. Discontent rose over the commotion.
The king’s enthusiastic announcement about the change in tournament translated into tedious work and an early morning for the knights. It changed today’s event from a simple afternoon tournament to an all-day ceremony with a serious prize. That accounted for the majority of the grumbles.
“It’d be one thing if the king had given us notice to prepare,” muttered one of the knights, dripping in sweat.
“The king’s messenger woke me late last night with the news. That’s hardly enough time to get ready or even get most of the bumps out of my breastplate,” another knight chimed in as steam hissed around him.
Murmurs of agreement rolled through the small room. The mugginess of the air amplified their agitation.
“What a prize too,” the first knight grumbled again. “To win the chance to be the princess’s champion and protect her wherever she goes. My loyalty is to the king.” He continued sharpening his axe without looking up to see the others nod. Several grunts of agreement sounded from the knights.
“She’s not bad, she’s just a kid,” another said.
“Well, one thing is for sure, whoever wins will be getting a handful.” The room burst into laughter.
One knight knelt to the side, refusing to join in the conversation.
Quiet and pensive, Daniel worked in silence. His steel gray eyes focused on his work. He gave this preparation his full attention, the same way he worked on all his tasks. His calloused hands, rough from work in the armory and on the battlefield, polished his shield. He unconsciously blew his sandy blonde hair out of his eyes as the steam and sweat rolled down his forehead. It was Daniel’s first tournament; he wanted to win. He felt pressure, not only for himself—he needed to make his family proud.
He carefully lifted his armor. Originally his grandfather’s, it had been refitted specifically for him. Their family crest was etched into the shield and breastplate, indicating their lineage, loyalty, and strength. A modified oak tree covered the bottom half, with a sword for its trunk. The top showcased the emblem of the red dragon for the Kingdom of Soron.
The coals from the nearby fire burned red hot. Every once in a while, a blast of steam shot toward him as the hot steel touched the cool water, setting the metal in place. His reflection in the armor winked back at him. Only a few more dents to go, and he would be ready. His mind wandered into memories while he finished the tedious tasks.
Nervousness wracked Daniel’s body as he approached the king. His leather boots scuffed the floor, and his sword jingled at his side against the chainmail. He knelt stiffly on the floor in front of the throne. The king must have sensed his apprehension because he smiled down at him with a rich, warm laugh.
The grand hall overflowed. Villagers from Soron and travelers from the nearby territories had come to see the ceremony. Every year, a new batch of apprentices swore their loyalty and devotion to the kingdom, with the hope of becoming a knight. After years of studying, training, and serving, it was his turn. With five other boys from the village, Daniel waited, feeling the eyes and expectations of the crowd. Sparing a quick glance behind him, he saw pride beaming from his parents. His heart beat wildly waiting for the ceremony to begin.
And then he saw her. For the first time, his heart skipped a beat, and the world slowed down.
The king spoke of duty, loyalty, and chivalry, all the sacred rites of knighthood, but Daniel barely heard. The beauty that stood before him mesmerized him.
Standing at the right-hand side of the throne, she held a handful of white roses. Her dark hair contrasted with her ivory gown. A faint smile rested on her lips as she looked over the crowded hall. Poised beneath the focus of the crowd, she represented the image of what they served to protect, a reminder of the innocence of their people and the beauty of their kingdom. Daniel knew, in that moment, he would give his life to protect her.
In a moment quicker than he imagined, the king lifted his sword. The cold steel pressed down on him, and his focus returned to the king and the responsibility attached to his words. A breath later, the ceremony ended, and the crowd erupted in cheers.
He felt the congratulatory hugs of his family and the other knights. Above the rising noise and gathering crowd, he lost sight of the princess.
And then the crowds parted and she reappeared, smiling at him. He froze under the spell of her emerald eyes. Princess Madeline walked toward him and handed him a single white rose. The softness of her touch surprised him, as
did her whispered words.
“My knight,” she whispered before disappearing into the crowd.
That marked the start of a new life for him.
Two words, spoken softly, gave him a new direction. They drove him through the hard work and training, healing his bruises and pain. Today he would prove her words true and become her knight.
Lifting his breastplate into position, the warmth of security washed over him. The weight of the armor settled onto his shoulders, putting him at ease. A blast of the trumpets announced the tournament’s approach. Daniel moved quickly to join the other knights, staying quiet amidst the cheers and triumphant cries. He was focused and ready.
***
Madeline awoke to Sophia shaking her roughly in her bed.
“Wake up, Princess, you don’t have much time,” Sophia pleaded, leaning over her.
“A few more minutes,” she murmured, pulling the covers over her head.
Even under the covers, she could not escape the start of the day. Sunshine peeked through the eyelets on her blanket, birds chirped, and Sophia poked her ticklish sides. She may have faked a headache last night, but it was real this morning. The bright sunlight and sharp chirps made her head want to explode.
Sophia snatched the covers and shook her head. “You don’t have any more time,” she insisted.
Madeline rubbed her eyes before seeing Sophia’s scowl. “What?” she asked.
“What?” Sophia repeated incredulously. She paced across the room, tightlipped, her hands on her hips. Madeline, still groggy, felt dizzy watching her friend move. “You have to get ready. They’re all waiting for you downstairs,” Sophia said, rummaging through the closet.
“Who is waiting, and for what? The tournament doesn’t start until this afternoon,” Madeline mumbled, truly confused. Yawning, she sat up, watching dresses pile up on the ground and the edge of the chair as Sophia selected and discarded her gowns.
“Plans changed,” Sophia sighed, holding a deep blue gown against herself in the mirror. Madeline saw the longing in Sophia’s eyes as she stared at her reflection. “After last night, you should be grateful they stayed and are still pursuing you. You missed out on quite the celebration.” Sophia shook her head and pushed the blue gown into Madeline’s hands. “Here, this is perfect. Now get up, I need to get you ready.”
Madeline looked down at the dress and then up at her friend. “I don’t understand what you’re talking about.” She stood to slip the dress over her head. “I met the men last night and then came back up here. That should be it. I didn’t choose any of them.” She pulled the dress down and looked over at Sophia, who was staring back at her, her eyebrows raised.
“You are a princess, Madeline. Do you not realize how this works?” Sophia berated her. “Did you honestly think your father would back down so easily? He’s been setting this up for months. If you don’t choose, he will.”
“Do you really think so?” Madeline asked quietly.
“Yes,” Sophia said, more softly, moving around to tie the back of the dress. “After you left the ball, your father apologized profusely and announced a change of plans. Instead of the normal summer tournament, today marks the tournament to find your champion. I’m afraid it’s not over. Not even remotely.”
She took a deep breath and cringed as Sophia tugged on the back of her dress, tightening the bodice.
“Before every princess gets married, she is awarded a knight champion to guard her once she leaves the kingdom. Today, you get yours.”
Sophia’s harsh words started to sink in. “He still plans to make me marry one of them?” she asked, her voice shaking.
Sophia had lost all her patience at this point, and laid both her hands on Madeline’s shoulders.
“Madeline,” she said, “you’re a princess—our princess. It’s your duty. You should be happy that they’re all gathered downstairs waiting to escort you to the fairgrounds.” Sophia stepped back and looked her over appraisingly.
Madeline numbly watched the evolution of her reflection as she grew more and more presentable. By the end, even she had to admit she looked perfect.
In the mirror, a carefully crafted image stared back at her. Beautiful and poised, she hid her fear and disappointment behind a mask. The only thing missing was a smile. The midnight blue gown Sophia chose fit perfectly. Her pale skin shimmered beneath it.
She winced as her friend wove her hair into a braided crown atop her head. The merciless tugging exasperated her headache. Pain drew her mind away from the gnawing pit in her stomach. She covered her mid-section as she searched Sophia’s face.
“Can you think of a way out? I don’t think I can do this. I’m just not ready,” she pleaded.
“Madeline, what’s the big deal? It’s just a marriage, not the end of the world.” Sophia dropped the brush.
“No, just the end of my freedom.”
“Well, at least you have a choice,” Sophia snapped.
“You call an old man or a drunken merchant choices? Having a choice implies it’s my decision. And, ultimately, it’s not.”
“I don’t know what to tell you,” Sophia said, picking the brush back up to finish her hair. “I wished you realized that you’re lucky.”
She knew by the look on Sophia’s face that she was thinking about her own situation.
“It’s time to go,” Sophia said, setting the brush on the vanity. “You can do what you will, but I can’t disobey the king. And you love tournaments. It will be fun. There’ll be knights, jousting, swordplay, banners, the whole works. It can’t be that bad.”
Sophia dragged her out of the room and led her down the halls. They walked silently through the maze of corridors, passing the red curtain marking the upper entrance to the ballroom. Her mind spun as she gripped the cool handrail and saw the group gathered at the bottom.
Her heart dropped as she saw her father in the midst of them. His laughter stung. He draped an arm behind Prince Alleg while simultaneously shaking Prince Paulsen’s hand. Seeing her father, a fleeting pang of regret rolled over her. She tried to imagine what they were agreeing to, and then stopped as her chin started to tremble. Last night had not changed his mind.
Pulling herself together, she hid her doubts behind her formal smile. She concentrated on keeping her chin still, hiding her trepidation. Her steps echoed in the empty ballroom, grabbing their attention. Their conversations stopped, and their eyes darted toward her.
Her father welcomed her with an embrace. “I expect you to behave today,” he warned beneath his breath.
She smiled innocently. “That would be my royal duty.”
CHAPTER FOUR
The tournament grounds towered on the hillside. Colors streaked through the air. Banners waved, mingling the colors of the visiting royals and their territories with the red of Soron. King Theodore wanted each visitor to feel the power of inclusion in his kingdom.
In preparation for the day’s event, stockpiles of weapons, flags, and hay lined the entrances and service gates. The scent of freshly turned dirt mixed with the slight tang of horses in the air. Three distinct sections made up the interior field: an area for archery, the main path for the joust, and the weaponry for the mock battle.
Madeline jumped at the blaring trumpets as they walked through the main gates. The size of the crowd surprised her. Fanfare from trumpets blasted, welcoming the continual swarm of people. In the rush of the crowd, the field came alive with excitement. Just as the ballroom seemed alive with the flowing colors of fire, the fairgrounds bloomed like a spring field. Purples, greens, reds, and yellows filled the stands, every inch a bright spectacle of beauty.
She glided up the pathway to the upper compartments where plush chairs marked their reserved seating. King Theodore marched to his spot and waved to the crowd. The cheers continued to deafen the stadium. Braden sat to the right of his father, smiling and holding Sophia’s hand. Madeline saw the empty seat on the left, reserved for her. She smiled at Sophia before taking a seat.
In the center of the field, the jesters amazed the crowd as they juggled fruits and balls, increasing the numbers of objects until they circled in a blur. The crowd erupted when one of the entertainers picked up a clucking hen. Even her father chuckled.
Madeline loved tournaments. She felt the energy of the people around her, laughing, enjoying the moment. At these events, she disappeared into the crowd, becoming one of the fans. No expectations weighed on her. There were no requirements.
Her gaze strayed toward her father, and she sighed. She knew today would be different. No matter how much she tried to believe he might change, she couldn’t ignore the presence of the gawking men. If he chose a champion for her today, her future would be finalized.
She caught her breath when her father stood and cleared his throat. It was beginning.
“Welcome, one and all,” the king said. “Thank you for coming on such short notice. Most of the time we try to be prepared, but what is more fun than a spontaneous contest?” He stopped for a second as the crowd laughed.
“This is a momentous occasion. My daughter, our Princess Madeline, is at the age of finding herself a husband.” The crowd murmured their appreciation, and she blushed. No longer invisible in the crowd, she felt the heat in her cheeks.
The group of suitors stood together. Prince Paulsen, still dressed in black, winked at her and nodded. His confidence amongst the others was obvious. Prince Alleg blew a kiss before sitting, and Baron Elliot took a swig of his drink. Beside them, at least ten other men smiled at her, crowding in, vying for her attention. She frowned and looked back to her father. His plan seemed broader than she had anticipated.
“With a husband on one side, she needs a knight champion on the other.”
Her stomach dropped. The audience roared in agreement and waved their flags back and forth enthusiastically. It seemed the entire crowd agreed with him.