Tales of Enchantment

by Andersen,Kai

  A particularly loud clap of thunder boomed across the sky. Serena checked in her motion toward the door.

  “Wait!”

  She knew she’d hate herself later for it, but she stopped.

  “Are you really a princess?”

  “I don’t have to answer you.”

  “Please.”

  “Don’t you know how insulting that question is after I’ve assured you all repeatedly that I am?”

  “Try to understand it from our point of view, Serena. You dropped in from out of nowhere, with no retinue whatsoever -- a behavior never heard of in a princess -- and you expect us to believe whatever you say just like that?”

  Hearing it put that way, Serena had to admit they were right to be wary of her. Royalty, especially the ruling family, have always been targets for whatever crazy reasons.

  “Why would this time be any different?” Her voice came out cold and frosty, the way she intended.

  “Turn around and look at me, Serena.”

  After hesitating for a moment, she turned and met his gaze head-on.

  “Because you’ll be looking into my eyes while you said it. Eyes don’t lie.”

  Her back stiffened. “I am a princess.”

  “I believe you.” A smile crossed his lips, dispelling the tension in the room. “You’re not scheming to trap me into marriage?”

  She found she couldn’t hold on to her anger in the face of that smile. She smiled back. “It never crossed my mind.”

  “Pity.” His low voice carried in the quiet room, the rain muted by the tightly closed windows. “You would’ve made a beautiful queen.”

  A frown creased her brows. “I don’t understand you. First, you’re angry that I’m trapping you into marriage. Now, you’re wishing that I want to marry you?” Her voice rose incredulously on the last words. “And they say women are fickle-minded.” She scowled.

  “I ache and burn for you, Serena.”

  She was shaken to see his eyes darkened with need.

  “If I have to marry you in order to possess you, I will.” His gaze dropped down to her mouth.

  A curl of heat unfurled in her. Serena was floored, even as one part of her thrilled at his words. No matter who he believed she was, he wanted her. Her. Serena, the woman -- not the princess. Yet, another part was dismayed. He talked of possessing, but not of love; of his body’s needs, but not of his heart. Shouldn’t the two go together? She was confused, for it was very evident to her that for Frederick, they were very separate. Also, didn’t he already have a betrothed, his stepsister Giselda? What did he take her for, some kind of fool? Or maybe she was to be his mistress?

  At this thought, she bristled. “Watch what you’re saying, Your Highness. Remember who you’re speaking to.” If he had professed his love, she probably would have ... But it would be a lie. No, it’s better this way.

  “Now I’ve made you angry.” He smiled ruefully and dipped his head in apology. “I’m only saying what I feel. You wouldn’t want me to lie to you, would you?”

  Her lips trembled. What did she want? Suddenly, nothing was clear anymore. She thought she wanted marriage to a nice prince who’d love her and settle down and have half a dozen lovely children. But now, her father was forcing her to marry an old lecher. She had found her prince -- a prince, she corrected herself hastily -- but he didn’t have marriage in mind. Oh, he did, but only because he wanted to have her body, which he couldn’t have any other way. To top it all off, she couldn’t really fault him, for she was having these odd feelings for his body, like kissing him and seeing if his body was really as perfect as it had felt when he was lying almost on top of her. She had tingled in places she didn’t know she had when he had caressed his -- she gulped! -- cock. She had wanted to see what it looked like, wanted to touch and feel and kiss. Even with the space between them -- almost three feet -- she could sense his tension, a raw magnetism that called out to her befuddled senses.

  But more than that, she wanted to know him, to know how his mind worked and to understand the events that molded him into the man he was right now. She wanted to erase the cynicism she saw in his eyes and unearth the childlike trust and wonder that she was certain lurked somewhere deep in his soul. She wanted to find something worthy in this man who affected her as no man ever had.

  “Has --” She cleared her throat and tried again. “Has it happened before?” At his blank look, she explained, “Peasant girls claiming to be princesses and all that.”

  He snorted. “It happens all the time. But it became especially serious these last two years when I was out wife-hunting, to the point that I was ready to give up and forget all about it. But I couldn’t.” He was silent for a moment. “I’m the Crown Prince of Mithirien, and I have a duty to my family, to my lineage, and to my kingdom.”

  The vise clamped tighter around Serena’s heart. This was what the queen was talking about last night -- this duty. At the same time, her heart squeezed at the strained look on his face and in his eyes. How she wished she could take away all his burdens. No wonder he was always so serious. Even in his enjoyment of her body, he was so intense. The heavy weight of responsibility must have pressed down on him.

  “So you’re looking for a princess to wife --”

  “Not just any princess.” He strode swiftly to stand before her. “But a real princess.”

  “Why?” Was that why he was marrying Giselda? Did she count as a real princess?

  “I promised my mother. She was dying.”

  “I’m sorry.” She offered her condolences in a quiet voice.

  “It was a long time ago, about eight years. I guess I’m lucky, because I got to know her before ... before ...”

  “You miss her.”

  “She was a wonderful mother.”

  “I’m sure she must have been.”

  “I killed her.”

  Chapter Five

  Serena was startled. Murder? “Uh ... I’m sure it wasn’t intentional.”

  What was she saying?

  “Wasn’t intentional!” He gave a scoffing laugh. “It was my fault. My fault!”

  Seeing the anguish in his eyes and hearing it in his voice as well, she laid a comforting hand on his arm. She knew he didn’t murder his mother. There had to be an explanation somewhere.

  She didn’t expect the dam to break.

  Words rushed from him in a torrent. “She died giving me a younger brother. There was too much blood ... so much blood.” His blue eyes burned bright. “But it was too soon. He ...” He swallowed. “He never got to live.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  She didn’t know what else to say.

  “It was my fault. My fault.” His voice broke. “My mother ... she loved me. I was her pride and joy; she never denied me anything.” He turned away. “If only I hadn’t said I wanted a little brother or sister, she wouldn’t -- Probably, she would still --” He drew in a deep, faltering breath.

  Serena ached for him.

  “She had one miscarriage after another. I begged her to stop, I pleaded with her, with Father. I told them I changed my mind, but --”

  He looked so lost standing there by himself, so lonely. She couldn’t bear it. Before she could evaluate the wisdom of her action, she had already gone to him, wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him from behind.

  He stilled.

  “It wasn’t your fault.”

  “I saw Rodin with his many siblings, and I was jealous. I wanted what he had. If I hadn’t --”

  “Just think.” Her tone was so firm he stopped his protests. “Your parents were adults; they knew what they wanted better than you. Perhaps they’d already been trying to have another baby even before you voiced your wish. After all, having only one heir for the kingdom is rather risky, don’t you think?”

  “How did you know I’m the only heir?”

  Hidden behind him, Serena allowed her smile to grow. The suspicious Frederick that she knew was back. “I guessed.”

  “I don�
�t know ...”

  “Your mother died fulfilling her duty. You, of all people, should understand that.” Serena, however, thought what a waste it was that the former queen had died so soon. Because of duty, she wasn’t able to watch her son take a wife or see her grandchildren grow.

  “I do.” The admission was dragged out of him.

  “Then believe that your mother’s death has nothing to do with you.” She couldn’t help the acerbic tone in her voice as she said, “And stop torturing yourself with guilt.”

  His back shook beneath her cheek and for a moment, she thought he was crying. It was about to cause her own tears to flow when a short bark of laughter escaped his mouth. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Suddenly aware of her proximity, Serena released him and stepped back, cheeks flaming. One hand immediately clutched the two parts of her torn bodice together.

  He turned around. “For a moment there, I thought you were seducing me.” His eyes twinkled, and his teasing smile was open and honest. Although there was no trace of sexual intent in his eyes and body language, there was no denying that he was a handsome man and that he tugged at her heartstrings.

  Ignoring his effect on her heart, Serena grinned. “In your next life, buster. Maybe.”

  “I live in hope. Here.” He shrugged out of his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders. “Before you cast further aspersions on my princely status.”

  The jacket hung loosely on her smaller frame, but it did its job well.

  “I wouldn’t dare, but thanks.” Serena sat on the couch nearest to the door. “So, your oath?”

  His face turned somber as he sat beside her. “I remember that day very well. The sun was shining brightly and the flowers were in bloom. I remember cursing heaven for not weeping as I wept.” His tone was sad and reflective. “At that time, Mother probably knew she was breathing her last. She called me to her bedside and made me promise to marry only a real princess. Even after all these years, I can still remember her exact words. She was already fast losing her strength, but she gripped my hand tightly. She said that only a real princess would have the qualities to match me as queen someday, when I ascend to the throne.”

  “At least you got to say good-bye.”

  “And to whom weren’t you able to say good-bye, Serena?”

  Just like that, the tables were turned. He was too perceptive. Or maybe, he was perceptive because of his intimacy with the topic.

  Serena fiddled with a fold of her dress. “No one.” She forced a laugh from her throat as she looked down at her lap. “Whatever gave you that idea?”

  She could feel his stare boring into her brain, as if trying to delve into her secrets. “It’s in your voice. You said it wasn’t my fault, but you don’t believe it, do you?”

  “Of course I do.” Even to her ears, her protests sounded weak.

  “For my situation, yes, but what about for yours?”

  “What’s there to believe?”

  “Who left you without a word, Serena?”

  The need to unburden weighed down on her. She hadn’t been able to confide in anyone back home. No one had been willing to listen, not even the aunt with whom she had so much in common.

  “Tell me.” His voice was earnest. “Let me help you, Serena.”

  She blinked back tears. “Li -- Lindy. My best friend. She ... she died when I was away on tour with my family. I wasn’t ... with her during her last moments.” She paused. “I never got to say good-bye.”

  “And you’re wracked with guilt every time you remember.”

  “It’s just so silly. She died of pneumonia, for the Goddess’s sake! Pneumonia!” Her laughter cracked.

  “What’s so silly about pneumonia?”

  Serena didn’t want to answer, didn’t want to dredge up the painful memories of those days, memories which she had pushed to a small corner of her mind to be forgotten forever. She gnawed on her lips to stop the words from tumbling out.

  “How did Lindy come down with pneumonia, Serena?”

  His voice was so gentle and caring that tears spilled from her eyes, tears which she had suppressed for two long years, because a princess wasn’t supposed to cry for the cook’s daughter. She buried her face in her hands.

  The cushion beside her depressed and warm strong arms enfolded her. He pressed her face against his chest and murmured soothing noises. She cried harder.

  “Her real name was ... Rosalind.” Tears gushed like a river out of her eyes as she recalled the sweet brown-faced teen-age girl who had been her playmate and confidante.

  “But it -- it was too fine for a servant’s daughter, so everyone called her Lindy.” She sobbed louder.

  “They were all fools.” His arms tightened around her.

  She felt warm and secure, and, yes, comforted. Only when she was a child had anyone ever held her as she poured out her grief. When she had grown into adulthood, public displays of emotions were frowned upon. If she wanted to cry or vent her frustrations, she had to do it in the privacy of her room -- alone. Actually, he didn’t need to say a word; just the feel of those supporting arms around her was enough.

  She closed tear-drenched eyes and traveled into her past. “That day, it was raining hard. A fierce storm had blown into the kingdom. And Lindy ... Lindy was by the riverbank, lighting candles that were snuffed out immediately and praying to the gods to bring me safely home.” She hiccupped. “She didn’t have to do that, but she worried, you see. She worried that I might come to harm during my travels, and instead ... instead ...” She sobbed, bitter tears that washed her eyes and assuaged the grief that had lain too long in her heart.

  “Was it your kingdom’s custom, this lighting of candles?”

  “Yes. Any place would do, really, but it’s better to do it by the riverbank, where the current flows strong.” Her sobs slowly subsided. “It is believed that prayers would then be carried swiftly to the gods.”

  “But Lindy was young, she was strong --”

  “Her health had always been poor. That’s why --”

  “She was a brave girl.” His hand was rubbing her back soothingly.

  “And a loyal friend.”

  “The very best.”

  “I miss her.” She sniffed, her hand coming up to wipe the tears away. She seemed to have expended her quota for the day. Though she felt she hadn’t cried enough for her friend, no more tears were forthcoming.

  “And you should. She’s worthy of it.”

  She hadn’t expected him to understand. In the midst of her sadness, she was pleasantly surprised to realize there were depths to this man she hadn’t guessed at.

  “But you have to realize, it wasn’t your fault.”

  “I know.”

  “She made her choice, knowing the full consequences of her actions.”

  “I know, but I still can’t help but feel --”

  “Don’t. You’d be undermining her sacrifice if you do.”

  Serena pushed away from him and drew in a shaky breath. “I would, wouldn’t I?”

  “Yes.”

  “All right.” She offered him a small smile. “Sorry about your shirt, but thanks.”

  “No problem. You needed to cry.”

  She knew then she was going to be all right. This afternoon, she’d taken her first step toward healing. She had some way to go yet before she could think of Rosalind and remember only the good times they’d had together, but she would get there one day.

  And so would he, she realized.

  They had gone through something together. Something that irrevocably changed them. Something that created a bond between them. Something that made it impossible for them to remain strangers.

  “Friends?”

  For a moment, she thought the suggestion had come from her. Then she saw his outstretched hand and the expectant look on his face.

  Without hesitation, she placed her hand in his. “Friends.”

  * * * * *

  Wild shrieks echoed through the hunting lodge. Deeper masculine
laughter followed.

  They were playing “Catch the Maiden.”

  Giselda had demanded to join in the game, but Frederick didn’t seem inclined to catch her. She purposely danced within his reach, but he always swerved away from her and went after Serena who, it would seem, tried her best not to get caught. As it was, she was keeping the long table between her and Frederick, eyes alight with glee and excitement.

  Giselda looked on with envy as first Serena, and then Frederick, raced out of the dining area into one of the smaller rooms in the lodge. She sniffed with self-pity. Why couldn’t Frederick look at her the way she wanted him to look at her? The way he looked at Serena?

  “I can play with you if you want, princess.”

  Giselda’s eyes snapped up to see Rodin lounging in the doorway. His green eyes were laughing. At her.

  Her ire was roused. “Princesses don’t play with peasants.”

  “Without peasants, princesses wouldn’t have any subjects.”

  When she just set her mouth in a mutinous line and looked away from him, Rodin strode over to where she was standing. He stopped about a foot away. “Why don’t you give this up, Giselda?”

  “That’s ‘Princess’ or ‘Your Highness’ to you!” She trembled from his nearness and tried to quell it, even as she hoped he didn’t notice.

  He continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “You know Frederick sees you only as a younger sister.”

  “No! I’ll never give up!”

  “Frederick is not the only man around --”

  “I don’t want any other.”

  “Why don’t you give other men a chance? Me, for example?”

  “You?” Her voice squeaked.

  “Yes. I see you as a woman, a very desirable woman.” He drew out the last three words.