The Princess Search: A Retelling of The Ugly Duckling (The Four Kingdoms Book 5)

by Melanie Cellier

  That almost certainly meant we were headed for the islands. Which most likely meant Catalie. A shudder went through me at the thought. The Isle of Catalie wouldn’t be like Medellan. I had been there for three years, a charity case taken in as a sort of ward by the viscount who ruled over the island. The same nobleman who had driven me away in shame. I had established myself now in the capital, but the sting of that mistreatment still burned strong.

  But the memory of Viscount de Villa wasn’t my only concern. Celine’s outrageous suggestion that I help her find brides for her brothers terrified me. How could I ever help in such a task? And what if Prince Frederic ever discovered me inappropriately meddling in his life in such a way? I would simply have to convince Celine it was impossible.

  The firmness of my resolution comforted me for about thirty seconds. The royal fifteen-year-old didn’t seem to be the type to be easily convinced of anything. And what if she decided one of the noble girls on Catalie would make her brother a good bride? A physical shudder ran through me, causing my mount to flick an ear back in my direction. I could never bow to one of them as my future princess and one day queen.

  Maybe, after all, there was nothing wrong with supporting Celine from the background. Just to make sure she recognized those whose smiles were only skin deep.

  I was riding several horses back from the royals, but I could still clearly see the straight backs of the two princes at the front of the columns. I had spent my last two days at Medellan altering more outfits for them, and it brought me pleasure to see them looking both elegant and comfortable, as I had intended. That was my true role and what I should be doing for them on this Tour.

  The two brothers looked remarkably similar, both with the golden skin, dark hair, and brown eyes that set most Lanoverians apart from our pale-skinned northern neighbors. They both had the muscles and bearings of warriors—talk in the capital claimed they were diligent at their weapons’ training—but Frederic was taller and broader shouldered than his wiry brother. Regarding them closely, I wasn’t entirely satisfied with the sit of their waistcoats and shirts across their shoulders. They had both abandoned their jackets given the warmth of the day, but I suspected those items would have the same problem. Either their muscles had changed since the garments had originally been made, or their tailor didn’t have the same eye for detail as I did. I resolved to have an actual fitting while we were on the islands.

  Which brought my mind racing back to Catalie. Perhaps if I looked exactly as a Lanoverian should, like the royal family, I would have had fewer problems on the island. But my skin and hair were both a shade too pale, as if a northern ancestor had included enough honey to turn what should have been the darkest brown hair to warm caramel. The same ancestor may have been responsible for the dark green of my eyes, but they couldn’t claim credit for their slight slant which suggested another ancestor from among the nomadic desert traders. Even my face marked me an outsider without a home or a people.

  My worries consumed me all the way to the nearest harbor. But when the first glitter of the distant water appeared, I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face. I inhaled deeply, letting the salt in the air relax the tension across my shoulders. I might not miss the people of the islands, but I surprised myself by the deep sense of joy that the coast itself gave me. I had liked living in the lap of the ocean—I had once imagined I might be happy there forever.

  The process of loading our large contingent of nobility, commoners, servants, and guards onto the royal yacht went far more smoothly than I had anticipated. Obviously I hadn’t been giving the steward enough credit. Without unexpected large-scale disasters, it seemed he ran a tight ship. I smiled internally at the unintended pun.

  The sailors welcomed us with subdued questions about Medellan but regained most of their cheer at our positive comments about the state in which we had left them. Before I would have thought possible, the captain was calling that it was time to catch the tide, and the buoyancy beneath my feet turned into the true swell of waves. I had registered my preference for a hammock over a bunk with one of the steward’s assistants but had otherwise ignored the world below decks. Instead I found a spot tucked away on deck where I was out of the way but still able to see everything that was going on.

  Leaning against the railing, I peered down at the foam which curled around the wooden sides of the ship. I watched the place where the broken water from our passage through the waves smoothed out to flow past in deep swells like the smoothest satin. I wished I could lean over far enough to dip my hand into the cool water.

  Several of the older nobles clutched their hands to their mouths and weakly staggered toward the ladder below decks. I considered calling out to stop them, since they would be far better off up on deck, but I held back. The captain would advise them, it wasn’t my place to do so. At least I felt no similar wave of nausea. I had never had even a hint of seasickness, regardless of the size of the waves.

  The sun beat down on me, but I didn’t mind. Not when a pleasant breeze blew occasional spray into my face. The seabirds cried loudly, a perfect counterpoint to the slap of the waves against the hull. Could the moment be more perfect? A sleek gray body arced out of the water before slipping back out of sight. Another followed and another, their fins pointing to the sky, and their powerful tails propelling them upward.

  A soft sigh of pleasure escaped. Apparently it could.

  “I see I’m not the only one who loves the ocean,” said a voice behind me.

  I turned my head, but even the sight of the crown prince wasn’t enough to make me break the perfect moment with words. I remained in place, inviting him with a gesture of my head to take the place beside me.

  He stepped up to join me, standing straight, his hands placed lightly on the railing. For a long moment of beautiful silence we watched the pod of dolphins frolic in our bow wave.

  “I’ve always liked the sea,” he said after some time, breaking our silence. “It’s so constant and unchanging.”

  “Unchanging?” I thought of the sea as ever-changing. Each day a slightly different mood.

  He gave me a rare smile. “It roars or whispers, but in the end, it remains here, unchanged. That’s what I meant.”

  “Oh.” I thought about it. I could see what he meant. The storms that raged across it always faded, and the sea remained behind as it had been before.

  “It gives me comfort, I suppose.” Another smile flashed across his face. “That I’m not nearly as important as I sometimes feel. That Lanover will still be here after I am long gone.” He paused and eyed me sideways. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I said that. I think I must be feeling giddy from being on a ship again. It’s been too long.”

  I hid a smile at the idea of this serious prince being giddy about anything.

  His eyes watched me, and I wondered if he could read the thought on my face despite my effort to hide it.

  “Or maybe it’s just you,” he said, unexpectedly. “You’re easy to talk to, Evie.”

  “I am?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “You sound surprised.”

  I bit my lip. “You have honored me with a confidence, so I will give you one in return. You are far more selfless than me. While you enjoy being reminded of your lack of importance, I have always longed to be more significant than I am.”

  I flushed immediately. What had possessed me to say such a thing? What was it about this man that made me throw caution to the wind and speak of such things? I had long ago learned to keep my emotions on a surface level—it was how I survived—so why was I acknowledging things to him that I didn’t even like to acknowledge to myself?

  Frederic’s face showed surprise, although his voice was carefully level. “I would not have picked you as a person of great ambition. Although I suppose I should consider the remarkable things you have already achieved with your dressmaking in the short time you’ve been in the capital.” He gave me a small half bow, but a shutter had dropped across his emotions, desp
ite the compliment.

  “Oh no,” I rushed to say. “Not ambition. I don’t want power, or to be important to the kingdom.” I realized my mistake as soon as the words were out of my mouth, as soon as I saw the curiosity return to his face. My eagerness to reassure him had led me to reveal more of the truth than I had intended.

  “One person would be enough for me,” I finished in a whisper. “I just want to be important to one person.” I looked away, humiliated, and not wanting him to see the tears swimming in my eyes.

  Frederic said nothing, and I appreciated the opportunity to gather my emotions back under control. Did he sense my need for silence? Celine would have rushed to fill the void with reassurances, but I preferred Frederic’s restraint, even if in truth it was merely that he had no reassurances to give.

  When I drew a deep breath and gave a tremulous smile—although it was aimed at the dolphins and not the man beside me—he finally spoke. “We all deserve that, I think. It is a worthy ambition.”

  I was startled into looking up and meeting his eyes, and something passed between us that I couldn’t name. His eyes seemed to truly see me, and an unfamiliar warmth settled somewhere in the vicinity of my heart.

  “Dolphins! I love dolphins!” said a voice behind us, and I closed my eyes for a breath as the moment was broken.

  Opening them again, I smiled at Celine. “Me too.” I almost added that I had loved watching the dolphins in my years on Catalie, but I stopped myself just in time. If I admitted I had once lived there, the princess would want to know why I no longer did so.

  Celine leaned perilously far over the edge, stretching out her hand toward the beautiful creatures, before her brother tugged her firmly back down to the deck. She looked over her shoulder at him cheekily.

  “Do you think if I fell in, the dolphins would rescue me?”

  He looked at her blandly, his voice calm. “I think it is possible they might rescue you from the water, but they wouldn’t be able to rescue you from me once we hauled you back on board.”

  Celine winked at me, looking entirely undaunted. “But just imagine getting to ride a dolphin! Celeste told me once that dolphins rescue people from the ocean.”

  “Did she now? Was it by any chance when she was playing stupid?” Frederic asked, referring to the curse that had forced his now-married sister to spend years pretending to be empty-headed.

  Celine scrunched up her nose. “You’re no fun, Frederic.”

  “You know, I have heard such stories. Of dolphins rescuing people,” I said. They were popular stories in Catalie where the dolphins were beloved. “Not that I can completely vouch for them, though. I’ve never seen it myself.”

  A new light entered Celine’s eyes as she gazed over the rail, and Frederic gave me a wry look. Oops. That might have been a mistake. I mouthed an apology at him, and he shook his head, although his eyes showed amusement.

  “Now you can’t possibly go overboard, Celine,” he said gravely. “Because it would be clear the blame lay with Evie, and my wrath would come down on not only you, but her as well.”

  “Frederic!” gasped Celine. “You beast! You wouldn’t!”

  “Feel free to try me,” he said with a straight face.

  “Oh, ugh,” said Celine, swinging around to lean her back against the railing. “You really are just like Mother.”

  He gave a small bow. “I take that as a compliment.”

  “You would,” she said darkly, and I smothered a smile. The prince had played that one well. For all her talk of rebellion, Celine was too large hearted to get me into trouble. Then I remembered her plan for me to help find wives for the princes, and my amusement fell away. She might still lead me into strife yet.

  The ship was now well underway, and most of the nobles had been coaxed back on deck. One in particular led the way, calling gruff encouragement to the others in a booming voice. When he spotted us, he waved a greeting to the royals, and remarked on the fine weather for a sail.

  “That’s the Earl of Serida,” whispered Celine, while Frederic replied to him in kind. “He always treats me like an absolute child and says the most awful things to me, as if I were four. But he’s as loyal to the crown as can be, and he grew up on the islands, so Father insisted he come. I just hope he doesn’t ruin all our fun. I’ve been so looking forward to spending time on one of the isles. I’ve never spent more than a few nights there before.”

  “Which island are we to visit?” I asked, attempting to keep my voice casual.

  “Well, we wouldn’t all fit on Inverne,” she said with a grin, naming the smallest inhabited island. “Some of us would have to sleep in the water. I think Viscount de Villa has invited us to stay with him. So that would be…”

  “Catalie,” I said softly when she stopped to think. “The viscount lives on Catalie.”

  “Oh, yes, of course.” She looked at me curiously. “How did you know?”

  I just shrugged and turned back toward the water. She regarded me for a moment, but let it drop.

  So, we were going to Catalie just as I’d feared. I told myself there was no reason for the nobles on the island to even notice me among the hordes of servants and guards accompanying the Tour, but I didn’t really believe it. Then I told myself that maybe it was a good thing. Catalie was only the first of the painful places from my past that we might visit, and the royals were bound to drop me sooner or later. Surely it was better for it to be sooner—it would only hurt more later.

  But I didn’t really believe that, either.

  Chapter 6

  I had been assigned a hammock in one of the cabins below deck which had bunks lining the sides and hammocks hanging down the middle of the room. The other two girls sleeping in hammocks needed help working out how to climb in, but I slipped in without trouble after showing them the trick. I had been sure I would have nightmares given our destination, but the rocking of the ship proved soothing enough to grant me a good night’s sleep.

  I felt much less calm when I stood back in my spot on deck, watching the main harbor of Catalie grow from a distant speck into a bustling dock. Someone had obviously sighted the royal yacht some time ago because it looked like half the island had crowded down to the harbor to welcome us. Their clamor sounded clearly across the water, almost drowning out the birds who had once again joined us as we approached land.

  Our approach had brought us in around the far side of the island, and the sight of its quiet beaches had brought an unexpected surge of excitement at the opportunity to revisit favorite places. The harbor, however, brought only bitterness. I still remembered how it had looked in the opposite direction, fading out from full-size to the barest pinprick on the horizon, my future before me as uncertain as it had ever been. I pushed the thought aside and decided I needed to find a spot to hide myself in case Celine decided to drag me off the ship at her side or something.

  Part of me actually wanted to march down the gangplank next to the princess, proud and sure in a triumphant return. But I was too afraid the viscount would renounce me on the spot. So I instead lost myself in a group of servant women, keeping my head down as I shuffled off the ship and stepped once more onto the island that had been home less than two years ago.

  A dock worker recognized me and nodded a greeting, and I replied with a tight-lipped smile. For all its size, the island was still too small a place for me to think I could remain lost in the crowds for our entire stay.

  The royals and most of the nobles were being accommodated in the viscount’s manor, with the rest of the Tour in tents stretching around his extensive property. As tempted as I was to get a glimpse of his family, I instead stayed out of their way. I had plenty of experience hiding myself in the gardens and woods around the house.

  Since organizing a fitting with the princes would involve approaching the house, I decided to take up another project instead. I had long ago memorized Celine’s measurements, so I was confident of my ability to produce a well-fitted garment even without chasing her down to mo
del it for me. For the first time I felt thankful for the wide range of fabrics I had brought with me from my supplies in the capital.

  But after the second day sewing in my tent, I had to admit I couldn’t continue hiding forever. The island was calling to me, and I wanted a long ramble through my old familiar, secluded haunts. When I put in the last stitch, I stood and stretched, admitting to myself that I had run out of excuses to put it off.

  Collecting a snack from one of the camp kitchens, I refused a friendly offer of company from a girl I had shared the cabin with on board ship. This was one trip I needed to make alone.

  The woods around the manor seemed to welcome me, and I soon found my old stride, altered by so many months of walking through crowds in the capital. The air carried slightly more moisture than in Lanare, but a pleasant sea breeze had found its way in among the greenery, so the heat didn’t feel oppressive. Birds called familiar greetings, and rustles in the surrounding undergrowth suggested small animals fled from my approach. I had soon passed through the thickest section of trees and was struggling up a tall hill on the other side. As my breath came more heavily, I chastised myself for losing some of my conditioning in city life. I needed to take more opportunities to exercise.

  As I crested the hill and came down the other side, I picked up my pace. I loved the beaches on this side. The softest white sand sloped gently into the sparkling water. At these shallow levels, the water sometimes appeared green, sometimes blue, and sometimes so clear you could see translucent fish darting beneath the surface. And although it was only mid-afternoon, still a long way from twilight, I hoped I might see a turtle making his way up onto the sand.

  A reef kept the waves lapping gently against the shore and also meant the beaches were of little use for boats. Subsequently, no one had bothered to build a road out to them, and they were used only for leisure by those willing to make the cross-country walk. It had always been one of their big appeals to me.