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

by Melanie Cellier

  “No, indeed. But I did not find Julian merely injured below decks. He was also locked in a cabin. It’s why it took me so long to free him.”

  Celine gasped, and Frederic’s face went white. I forced myself to meet their eyes and face their judgment.

  “You’re fortunate you weren’t drowned with him,” said Frederic tersely.

  “You really are a heroine,” said Celine. “I wish I’d found him instead. I’ve always fancied being a heroine.”

  Cassian rolled his eyes, as I glanced between them all. Were they…concerned for me? Not angry? My knees suddenly felt weak, and I wished I had a chair to sit on.

  “So it was most definitely an attack on Julian, then. Surely the viscount himself wasn’t party to an attempt to kill his only son!” exclaimed Celine.

  “No…I cannot imagine it to be so,” said Frederic thoughtfully. “But neither can I imagine that after so many years of such close companionship, it was coincidence that Marcus chose now to act.”

  “Whatever do you mean, Your Highness?” asked the earl. “It seems to me the matter has been most neatly resolved.” He looked hopeful.

  “Marcus is not unintelligent, that much is certain,” said Cassian. “He must have known there was a chance his plan might fail. If Julian had gone down with the boat, Marcus would have found himself heir. But, if he didn’t—as turned out to be the case—Marcus must have known he faced banishment without any resources. He doesn’t strike me as the type to risk such a thing.”

  “Unless he knew he had somewhere to run,” said Frederic. “Perhaps to those who instructed him to make such an attempt, for instance?”

  I swallowed. What were they saying?

  “Our first stop was marred by a tragedy. The type that strikes fear into the heart of every commoner,” said Cassian, when the earl still looked confused. “What if our second stop had been marred by the type of tragedy feared by every noble? The death of their only son and heir.”

  “It is subtle, this attack,” said Frederic, “with everything designed to look like an accident.” He frowned at his brother. “We must write to Father.”

  This time I did stagger back into a chair. My fear and my mistrust had held my tongue, and now they would never have the chance to question Marcus and discover if he were an agent of this shadowy rebellion. My mind whirled as the talk continued to swirl around me.

  “You think the viscount was protecting his nephew with his haste? Even after he attempted to kill Julian?” The earl frowned. “I find it hard to believe. I know I would never do such a thing.”

  “And if we had found Marcus to be guilty of not only attempted murder but treason?” asked Frederic. “Would that not be a far worse and more dangerous taint on the family?”

  “It is hard to explain the speed of his judgment any other way,” said Cassian. “He has willfully deprived us of information in an effort to protect his own name.”

  My head had begun to throb, but that didn’t sound right. And while part of me wanted to let the viscount burn, the other part was still reeling from the consequences of holding on to my knowledge the day before.

  I tried to speak, but the words came out so quietly no one heard. I stood and tried again.

  “I don’t…I don’t think so,” I said. For the second time the talk stopped as everyone stared at me. I straightened my spine. “As you know, I spent several years living on Catalie.”

  The earl looked at me curiously, but I pushed on. “The islands are loyal to the crown, but their culture differs from that of the mainland. They don’t see things in quite the same way.”

  The earl was frowning now but also nodding. I focused my attention on Frederic.

  “Here on Catalie, it is the viscount’s role to maintain order. Any breach of order is seen as a personal stain on his honor. It’s why he is so harsh against crime of any kind. The larger the breach, the faster he must act to restore the island’s order, and thus his own honor. He can expect neither respect nor obedience from his people until he has acted. They are an insular community here, and far more concerned with honor than most mainlanders. An attack on his own son and three members of the royal family is so grave a breach of order that I am not in the least surprised to find that Marcus is already banished.”

  The earl rubbed his head. “The girl…” He looked at me blankly.

  “The royal seamstress,” I said, at the same moment as Celine said, “Evie.”

  He looked confused but shook the thought aside. “The girl, Evie, speaks truth, Your Highnesses. It has been many, many years since I lived here on the islands. So long, in fact, that I sometimes forget I was an islander born and bred.” He chuckled. “Although it does the old bones good to be here once again, and it’s amazing how it all floods back. In fact, I am a relative of the current viscount, and spent some of my youth with him before I unexpectedly inherited my title on the mainland. I would vouch he has not gone rogue against the crown. Indeed, by the customs of the islands, his swift action—where guilt was certain—is a sign of respect toward the victims.”

  Silence reigned for a moment as everyone digested his words. I would have smiled at him in gratitude for backing me up if I hadn’t feared he would consider it an impertinence.

  “We must bow to your experience,” said Frederic at last. “And be grateful to have you both with us. The last thing we want is to drive a wedge between loyal subjects and the crown.”

  “No, that’s exactly what the rebels will be hoping for.” Cassian sighed. “I do wish we had been given the chance to interview Marcus, however. And I cannot find myself easy at the choice of punishment.”

  “Banishment is a customary penalty on the islands,” said the earl, and I nodded. It was a custom with which I had personal experience. “As it is customary with the royal family. It is considered a very grave punishment for an islander, few of who would willingly leave our beautiful shores under any circumstances, let alone leave without friends, family, or money.”

  “I no longer question the intent behind the act,” said Frederic. “I concede to your wisdom as my father desired in such an instance. However, it does not change the fact that a potential agent of the rebellion is now loose on the mainland, free to wreak further damage.”

  I shivered as the truth of his words sank in. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I had been rejoicing to be once again free from Marcus. But the very opposite was true. I thought of the final expression on his face, and my insides clenched. Soon we, too, would leave Catalie and, when we did, I would have to go back to watching over my shoulder. But now it was not only me, but the whole kingdom that had something to fear.

  Chapter 14

  Frederic used the excuse of Julian’s injury to leave the island early without impinging further on the viscount’s honor. The noble seemed to understand the true motive but appeared grateful for the reason given, assuring the Tour that he was touched by their thoughtful consideration of his family at such a difficult time.

  It still took us two days to organize our departure, during which time I managed to put the finishing touches on three bathing costumes. Celine apologized profusely when she told me that courtesy required her to gift two of them to Monique and Shantelle. I merely smiled knowingly and told her which ones I had made to my guess of their measurements. I had already made my peace with the destinations of my creations. And surprisingly, it didn’t even sting. Something had changed in Monique since the boating accident and Marcus’s departure. She hadn’t actually done anything as shocking as apologize, but she had been subdued, avoiding me rather than seeking conflict. And Shantelle had done nothing but cry since Julian’s injury.

  Returning to the island had reminded me of the many things I had enjoyed about my life here, and my experience of island culture had even proved to be of use to my new friends. I found I now viewed my years here through a different prism, and I couldn’t begrudge either girl the gift.

  But Celine still seemed to want to make it up to me and suggested that I ch
oose the destination of the final costume. I hesitated, ashamed of myself for finding this gift harder than the other two.

  “Delphine,” I forced myself to say at last. “You should give it to Delphine. She is sweet and kind and everything the viscount’s children are not.” I watched Celine’s reaction. Would she understand the second meaning behind my words?

  “She is a sweet little thing, isn’t she?” said Celine, for all the world as if she weren’t three years younger than Delphine herself. “It’s a pity Cassian didn’t take a liking to her. But then, she looks like the type to harbor secret, intense dreams of romance, so I can’t imagine Cassian would be to her liking.”

  She looked at me to share the laugh, and it was far too easy to join in. It had not occurred to me Celine might think of the other girl for Cassian.

  Stop being a fool! I told myself—but I didn’t seem to be listening.

  I boarded the royal yacht with some trepidation, drawing courage from the way the three royals strode on board without sign of hesitation or fear. I had been afraid my joy in sailing might be gone forever after three nights of dreams about being trapped in a small place while water slowly rose around me. But I found, to my relief, that the deck of the royal yacht—so much farther above the water than on the catamaran—seemed sturdy and secure by comparison. I even felt relaxed enough to smile at the pod of dolphins that soon found us.

  In fact, with the sun beating down, its sting removed by the stiff breeze, and the foaming wake streaming behind us, I could even imagine that the whole sojourn on Catalie had been nothing more than a dream. But when I looked at my companions, my time there was not so easily dismissed.

  Far too many new emotions filled me to be easily discredited: shame for remaining silent and gratitude at being neither judged nor disbelieved when I did speak up; a strange peace about my years on the island mixed with a lingering shame. I had admitted to them what I had seen in the cabin, but not that I had strongly suspected Marcus. If I had told them that at the time, they could have arrested him themselves the night we returned.

  The needling memory of Medellan only made my mistake worse. There, too, I had hesitated to share vital knowledge with the royals. My unease about my welcome in their tents had led me to make what may have been a significant delay. And now I had done the same thing again: I had hesitated, not sure where to place my trust, and the consequences in this case had been definite. I didn’t like making the same mistake twice.

  And over it all, a giddy feeling that swirled in my stomach whenever I looked at Frederic and remembered his strong arm around my waist as he threw me playfully into the air. In some ways, that was the most troubling emotion of all, since I had no right to feel it.

  For several days we made our leisurely way down the coast. We were to be deposited further south, although not as far south as Largo, to make our way from the coast into the jungle. Once we had visited a string of towns in the jungle, we would emerge on the eastern side of Lanover and visit one of the tribes of nomadic desert traders. From there we would travel to Largo and rejoin the royal yacht.

  It wasn’t lost on me that the Tour was retracing the steps of my life. And the memory brought with it a new anxiety. So far, the royals had shown me remarkable trust. But what would happen when they saw the same pattern repeated over and over—the only constant, me?

  I hated that I still didn’t trust them not to turn on me, but I could no more erase my fear than I could cease breathing. The more I allowed myself to relax around them, the more it would hurt when Celine, or Frederic, or even Cassian, looked at me with that shadow of doubt in their eyes. And the thought lingered that perhaps they would be right to do so. What sort of person couldn’t fit into even a single community in a kingdom of this size?

  But emotions like these were more than troubling—they were also exhausting. And as we sailed, I let them blow away on the breeze, choosing to relax and enjoy the sun and sea instead. This was how I had survived everything life had thrown at me so far, by refusing to give it space in my mind. I had one small perfect slice of life on this ship, and I refused to spend it alone and worrying.

  Celine dared a young lieutenant, an old friend of hers apparently, to race her to the top of the mast, and she would have fallen to her death in her haste if he hadn’t caught her. Entirely undaunted, she challenged him again the next day and was only stopped by Cassian stepping in and telling the boy, Tom, that he must on no account accept.

  “Climb all you like,” he told his sister, “but please desist with this racing business. I, for one, have no wish to inform our parents that their baby has broken her neck through her own foolishness.”

  Celine promised laughingly to leave a fish head in his bunk for spoiling her sport but otherwise accepted his criticism with unexpected cheerfulness. Tom looked more than relieved, and I felt a little sorry for the young man. That is, until I found the two of them the next day lowering themselves down the outside of the ship with ropes to let their feet dip into the water.

  I was still goggling over the edge, trying to decide what, if anything, I should do, when Frederic strolled over to join me.

  “What has you so fascinated…oh.” He sighed. “She was a surprising help in the rebellion last year, but Celine doesn’t do well with boredom.”

  I suppressed a laugh and looked at him through my lashes. I could hear in his voice how much the last rebellion still hurt him. He and his father had uncovered and dismantled it in the end, but not in time to prevent the rest of their family from hurtling into greater danger than he himself had faced. I knew him well enough already to know how that would sting. How he would feel he had failed.

  “Shall we spoil their fun?” I asked.

  Frederic looked at me and then shook his head. “I’m tempted to cut the ropes myself and let her swim to shore.” The laugh in his eyes betrayed the words, and I remembered how satisfying his actual laugh had sounded.

  “Come now,” I said reprovingly. “You couldn’t do that to poor Tom. You must know this is not his idea, and he faces discipline from a senior officer at any moment. You should rather grant him your clemency.”

  Frederic grinned. “Are you teasing me, Evie? You do know I’m a prince, do you not? We are far too important to be teased.”

  I leaned over the edge again, directing my eyes downward significantly as an unusually large wave splashed over Celine and sent her spinning on her ropes, laughing wildly. “Yes, I’ve observed the overbearing dignity of the royal family and immediately apologize for my impudence.”

  He chuckled this time, and my heart thrilled.

  “Are we anything like you expected, Miss Seamstress?”

  I bit my lip, not wanting to turn the conversation serious if he was still joking around. But something in his eyes encouraged me to answer honestly.

  “Nothing at all, so far.”

  “So far,” he said softly. “So we still need to prove ourselves to you.”

  I flushed at having so revealed myself. “Of course not!” I rushed to say, the lie heavy on my lips. How could I tell a prince that an orphaned commoner without name or family required more from him than he had already given?

  An urgent need to tell him something at least of the truth overwhelmed me. “It’s my fault that Marcus got away,” I said in a rush before I could change my mind.

  Frederic raised both eyebrows but waited in silence for me to gather my next thought. “I knew someone had acted against Julian. And I strongly suspected that Marcus had scuttled the boat in an attempt on his cousin’s life. It never occurred to me he could have any deeper motive or that any harm could come of my silence. But that doesn’t change the fact that I was wrong. And that if I had spoken, you would have been able to prevent Marcus’s banishment before it happened.”

  Frederic sighed. “If we can be blamed for a failure to foresee the future, then I am as guilty as you and of greater crimes.”

  I bit my cheek. I hadn’t intended to bring up his own regrets. When he looked a
t me, I looked away, unable to hold his gaze.

  “Tell me Evie,” he said quietly, “why did you hold back on your knowledge and your suspicions? You owed no loyalty to the viscount or his family. And to Marcus least of all.”

  I flushed again. So he had worked out who it was on the island who scared me, despite my earlier restraint in not naming him. And he was calling me out on my mistake. After all of my experiences with them, I should have trusted the royals above any member of the viscount’s family. I shouldn’t still be wondering when they, too, would let me down. And yet I was.

  After a moment of silence, he sighed again. “No, don’t answer that. You’ve already said why.” He paused again before laying a hand on my arm.

  I tried to ignore the thrill that raced through me at his touch.

  “I do not know everything in your past, Evie, and I have no right to demand such knowledge from you. But I will show you that you can trust me. That much I can do.”

  I flushed again, still not meeting his eyes.

  When I said nothing, he turned to leave before pausing and looking back at me.

  “And I can protect you from Marcus, that much I can do. He will never touch you, Evie.”

  His words echoed in my head long after he was gone. That he was trustworthy I wanted to believe was true. That he would do his best to protect us all from Marcus I did not doubt. But over my past he had no protective power. Some things could not be changed, however much we willed them.

  The next day we made landfall, and the day after that we slept in our first jungle village. The moist, heavy air and dense greenery bore down on me, a sticky web that I could not escape. The islands had proven to hold unexpected happy memories. The jungle brought back only misery.

  Chapter 15

  That night I dreamed the same dream that had gripped me my one night in the palace. Once again, a small woodshed contained me, my only protection from the taunts of the children who hammered on its walls. I woke up twisted in my thin coverlet, hoping I hadn’t cried out in my sleep. A quick glance showed Celine sleeping peacefully.