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

by Melanie Cellier

  “My little one! My lamb!” The older woman wiped tears from her eyes. “My dearest daughter! Just look at you. So big! So beautiful!”

  I drew a deep breath as I felt a familiar someone come to stand behind me. I didn’t look back, but I did draw strength from Frederic’s silent presence. I straightened my spine and regarded the woman who I had once called Mother Nora.

  “Nora. You look well.”

  “Never mind me,” she said, still apparently overcome by my presence. “The missing daughter has returned! What a wonderful day.”

  What was Frederic thinking of her words? Did he question my tale of hardship in the face of such profusions? I stood firm.

  “I’m not your daughter.”

  “Evie? What is this?” She looked shocked and hurt.

  “You call me your little one, your lamb, your missing daughter. But I wasn’t lost. I left. And you made no effort to stop me when I did so, although I was only fourteen, and had only a small handful of coins to my name.”

  She stumbled back a step, her face falling. “I didn’t want you to leave, Evie, I assure you. But you remember how it was…so difficult…”

  “I am sure my leaving brought more peace to your days.” I looked her straight in the eyes. “And I remember how your children constantly harassed me.” I paused, my face set. “And I remember how you never made any true attempt to stop them.”

  “Evie, please…” She sounded weak now, and I remembered that she had always been so, although I hadn’t seen it at the beginning. Her desire for an easy life and peace had overridden the kind heart that had led her to take me in. She was the parent, but her children had been the ones to rule.

  And I realized, also, that it no longer pained me as it once had.

  “You housed me for two years, even though you didn’t have to. And for that I thank you. And for the rest I forgive you. But I claim no kinship. I wish you well in life, but you have not earned the right to be a part of mine.”

  She gave me one last beseeching look, but when I said nothing she left. As soon as she was gone, I slumped, my strength and determination overridden by a sudden wave of exhaustion.

  “Well done, Evie,” said Frederic.

  I turned to face him, looking up into his eyes. “You did not think me cruel?”

  “Cruel? She was the one who was cruel to you. I would not have been so gentle toward her.” A cold look filled his eyes, and I shivered though it wasn’t aimed at me. It was hard in moments like this to remember to keep my distance.

  He looked down at me. “I don’t know how you do it, Evie.”

  “Do what?”

  “Be so gracious and poised after everything you’ve been through.”

  I stared at him, too startled to speak. Me? Gracious and poised? Fear filled me. How long until he saw the mess of distrustful fear inside me? I had been right to put no stock in whatever fleeting emotion he now felt.

  The town elder approached us and pulled Frederic away. I let the swirl of action move around and then pass me, making no effort to follow the group of leaders, both Tour and village, who now bore Frederic toward our welcome meal.

  But when I at last thought I stood alone, a voice startled me. It sounded different, deeper, slower than I remembered, but it remained recognizable.

  “Brandon,” I said as I turned toward him.

  “You’ve returned.”

  I nodded, eyeing him wordlessly, unsure what he wanted from me. An instinctive urge told me to run, but I wasn’t a traumatized young girl anymore. I didn’t have to run from jealous children.

  You would—and have—run from Marcus, an internal voice reminded me. But I shook it away. Marcus had never been cruel with the petty jealousies of childhood—he had been cold with the icy rage of a man who had grown twisted instead of straight and true. He threatened not only me, but the whole kingdom. It was only sensible to be afraid of him.

  “What do you want, Brandon?” I asked, the weariness from earlier returning.

  “You seem to be friendly with the royals.”

  “And?”

  He cleared his throat. “I just wanted to…to welcome you back.”

  I raised an eyebrow, and he shifted his weight from side to side. “I thought there might be some…misunderstanding about before.”

  Comprehension dawned. “You mean, you’re afraid that now I’m the one in a position of power, I might attempt to wreak some sort of revenge on you.” I looked at him for a moment before sighing. “I won’t, although if you’ve been fearing it since my arrival, it’s no more than you deserve after the constant fear you inflicted on me all those years ago.”

  He looked away uncomfortably. “I’m sure you don’t believe I mean it, Evie, but I am sorry. We were heedless, and…well…mean. I can see that now.”

  “Good.” I rubbed at my temples where a headache bloomed. “If you wish to repay me, make sure no child in this village—or any you may live in—is ever tormented in such a way again.”

  He said nothing.

  “Where are the others?” I wished I felt no curiosity, but I could not deny having just a little.

  He shrugged. “They moved on to other villages.” He gave a short laugh. “Lela even moved to a westerner village.”

  “That must have pained Nora.”

  “As you can imagine.” He smiled at me, and then the expression dropped away as he remembered we weren’t old friends exchanging reminiscences. “Ah, I need to get back…”

  “Go. You don’t need to fear me.”

  He hesitated. “Thank you, Evie.”

  I shrugged, unable to muster any gracious words despite Frederic’s belief in me.

  He disappeared into the trees, and I wandered toward the meal, taking a circuitous route to visit a handful of the old places. Some had changed but surprisingly few. The jungle had encroached in new ways and been beaten back in others.

  When I reached the communal eating hut, Celine pounced on me.

  “There you are, Evie! Where have you been?” She didn’t pause for me to reply. “I’ve discovered your secret!”

  I blinked, my sluggish brain unable to work out which of my secrets she could mean.

  “Everyone in the capital has been wondering where your vivid material comes from, and now I know!” She winked at me. “If you promise to keep making me amazing dresses, I promise I won’t tell.”

  I relaxed. So Celine had found Josinna. I hadn’t seen her with the other greeters, but she had already had limited mobility when I had been here, and years had passed since then. I would have to go and visit her sooner rather than later.

  “They have an impressive operation,” she continued. “You must be so proud.”

  I stared at her. “What do you mean?”

  She grinned. “Don’t tell me you don’t know! She did say it was new. Oh, you have to come and look.”

  I protested that I hadn’t eaten yet, but she dragged me away anyway.

  Josinna had once been the head weaver in the region, but age had slowed her down. She preferred experimenting with incredible dyes and new weaves to producing quickly, and her work had come to be seen by the village as a beautiful curiosity rather than a practicality. She wasn’t exactly a warm woman, but she had never turned me away from her small weaving hut when I needed somewhere to hide from the other youngsters. And after seeing my interest in her material and hearing me musing aloud about a possible dress design, she had gifted me a length, telling me she wanted to see what I could create.

  When I had handed her the finished product, she had stared at it silently for a full two minutes. I had feared she disliked it, but when she at last spoke, she told me to leave. “A talent like yours is wasted here, youngling,” she had told me. “There is nothing for you here. Make your way to the capital and let your skill shine.”

  I had been too afraid to run, then, but she had often repeated her advice. And one day I had come to her hut and told her that I was finally going to do it. I promised her I would leave and mak
e a name for myself as long as she agreed to let me buy all my material from her. During my three years on Catalie, I had always felt a vague sense of guilt, that I was betraying Josinna by not starting my own shop. But when I finally did make it to the capital and sent her my first order, she had filled it without delay. And she had never let me down since.

  The weaving hut was tucked on the far edge of the village, so I hadn’t passed it in my earlier wanderings. My steps quickened as Celine led me in the right direction. I should have gone to visit Josinna first, but I hadn’t wanted our meeting tainted by all my negative emotions.

  But as I neared it, I slowed. This section of the village looked far from familiar. Where had all these open-air huts come from? Even with the welcome feast underway, people bustled to and fro, the air of activity a far cry from the quiet haven this corner used to be.

  Where was Josinna? I ignored the greetings from the villagers and hurried to her hut.

  “Evangeline!” she cried in her trembling voice.

  My eyes swam with moisture as I rushed over to embrace her where she sat.

  “You did it.” She patted my hand and beamed at me. “I knew you would.” She nodded toward Celine. “I see your hand in her gown easily enough.”

  I flushed. “All thanks to you, Josinna.”

  “Nonsense.” She looked past me to Celine. “I was always telling her she was made for bigger things than this jungle.”

  “You were right, of course,” said Celine. “You look like the sort of woman who’s always right.”

  Josinna laughed, a rumbling cadence, at her obvious flattery. “I like you, girl.”

  “Everyone likes me,” said Celine with a cheeky twinkle, and the old lady laughed again.

  “But what is going on here?” I asked her. “Who are all these people?”

  She looked smug. “I charge you a lot for my material, Evangeline. I took a gamble that you would pay it, and you do. I knew that once you combined my creations with your designs, you would be able to charge a great deal for your gowns. And, clearly, I was right since your demand for material keeps increasing. Together we have proven that luxury cloth can be worth as much to the village as the more practical weaves. All the local villages send me their most promising weavers now. They work for me and, in exchange, I teach them my new techniques. Did you not wonder how I managed to keep up with your orders?”

  “I did.” I looked around. “But I was picturing you having taken on an assistant or two.”

  My emotions swung up and down as I looked around her expanding empire. She deserved to have her skills recognized and valued. It was only right. And I owed her a lot for being the first to believe in my designs and encourage me in them. But clearly her production was already starting to outstrip my demand. I couldn’t hold on to my exclusive source any longer. Especially now that the Tour had visited the village—word would inevitably get out. But I could not begrudge her the success. I would simply have to work harder to ensure my designs stood out even without exceptional material.

  Nora and Brandon avoided me after that, but I visited with Josinna whenever I could, admiring her new set up and discussing materials and designs with her. Both princes toured the set of weaving huts, full of compliments for the skill of the junglers. In fact, the villagers were so pleased with their reaction that they outdid themselves in demonstrations and activities for the royals.

  Their efforts included showing off the beauties of the jungle, and several villagers insisted the royals must be shown the village’s pride and joy—a beautiful waterfall hidden nearby. When Celine asked me about it, I did have to admit that it was an exquisite spot. Cassian decided to catch up on some paperwork, but Frederic and Celine expressed interest in going and insisted I come along as well—since I was, in Celine’s words, “practically a local.”

  Two of the village’s most experienced guides were given the task of leading us to the spot, for which I was grateful. I didn’t remember the route well enough to trust myself to the task.

  But just as we were about to set out, Celine groaned and doubled over.

  “Celine? What’s wrong?” Frederic steadied her.

  “My stomach,” she gasped and groaned again. “Horrible cramps. You’ll have to go without me.”

  “No, no, we’ll wait—”

  She cut him off, shaking her head. “Don’t be silly. We leave tomorrow. There’s no need for you to miss your chance to go because I’m feeling poorly.” She groaned again.

  He frowned at her and then glanced at me and the guides. I could see in his eyes that he would rather stay with Celine, but he didn’t want to offend the locals by canceling the trip altogether.

  Cassian emerged from his tent to see what the fuss was about and promised to take Celine under his care.

  Frederic nodded with some reluctance. “Very well, then.” He gestured for the guides to lead us out and began striding after them.

  I paused for a second longer, my concerned gaze on Celine. She looked toward Frederic’s retreating back, and then winked at me before doubling over in a particularly loud groan.

  I gasped, but Frederic was already calling for me to hurry. Reluctantly I followed him, sending silent insults back in Celine’s direction. So this was her idea of subtly influencing her brother. With her absence, the tone of our expedition would be vastly different. Just as she had intended.

  I sighed and plunged into the jungle.

  Chapter 17

  Walking through the jungle wasn’t like strolling through the garden paths around the palace. The plethora of bright blooms was greater and more pungent, but no smooth gravel unfolded before our feet. Soon we were entirely enveloped in a cocoon of green, vines curling above our heads and snaking across the ground ready to trip us.

  The jungle hummed with life, the calls of birds and distant monkeys mingling with the ever-present buzz of insects. I had forgotten how alive it felt here, how vibrant.

  Frederic tripped on a vine and nearly fell, catching himself just in time.

  “Careful,” I said. “The jungle doesn’t care too much about your dignity.”

  He smiled at me. “I’ve noticed that. Highly disrespectful.”

  I grinned back. “Why do you think even our nobles join our communal meals? It’s hard to stand on ceremony in a jungle.”

  “Listen to you. Talking like a local.”

  I went back over my words in my head and frowned. He was right.

  He glanced at me with concern. “That wasn’t a criticism. There’s nothing wrong with being a jungler, you know.”

  “Except I’m not one. I never truly fit in here. The person who was kindest to me in that village told me to run and not stop until I’d left the jungle behind. And she kept advising me to do so every day until I found the courage to escape. I was never a jungler.”

  He weighed me with his eyes. “Perhaps not. But the jungle is still a part of you. It provides the material for your dresses, and you understand it in a way that I do not. That is something to value.”

  I looked down at my feet, to give myself a moment to think. Was it true? Did I see each stage of my life as a burden that held me back rather than an integral part of who I was? It was an overwhelming thought.

  The sound of rushing water had been growing stronger the nearer we came to the waterfall, until we broke free of the trees and stopped before the torrent. A small pool spread before us, constantly rippling from the disruption of the thundering water which poured down from rocky heights.

  The waterfall looked graceful and delicate, like the softest lace, and yet strong and powerful at the same time. The water of the pool looked cool and inviting.

  “Do the locals swim here?” asked Frederic.

  One of the guides immediately shook his head.

  “Only boys looking to impress one another,” I said. “There’s a strong current that will drag you under the fall and down. I’ll show you where they do swim, though.”

  “Watch your step,” called the second g
uide, as I led Frederic down the rocky lip of the waterway. The cool liquid from the waterfall’s pool poured over a lip in the rock, looking like smooth, mobile glass. It filled a second, lower pool, this one’s surface calm, dotted only with a few leaves. Leading him further, I pointed to where the water flowed into a third pool before trickling away as a creek.

  “The middle pool is the best for swimming. It’s deep enough for a proper dip, but without the danger of the one above.” I looked at it longingly. I should have worn my bathing costume.

  “We should have come dressed for a dip,” said Frederic, mirroring my thought. “The walk here was hot work. But I can see why the locals love the spot so much. It’s breathtaking.” He looked across the pool. “I wish I had such a haven within easy reach of the palace.”

  “Why? Do you often feel the need to escape?” The question popped from my mouth unbidden, the intimate setting promoting a sense of ease between us.

  Frederic looked over at me, his brow creased. “Does it sound terrible of me? After all you’ve been through, what could I possibly have to run from in my life of ease?” He sighed. “No one has ever mistreated me, and I love my family. But sometimes I feel I shall be crushed under the weight of my responsibilities. Sometimes I fear I cannot bear the weight of a kingdom.”

  It was a different kind of burden he bore to the burden of my past, but it was a heavy load all the same. Except he, at least, was much more fitted to bear it than me.

  “Our experiences have been so different,” I said softly, “how can I hope to advise you? But I can say this—I have never met someone so suited to bear a responsibility he was born into. I have no doubt you will make a great king.”

  His face remained drawn, but warmth filled his eyes. “It means much to me that you would say so. I just wish I could have the same trust in myself. I’ve made grievous errors of judgment before—about even my own family. I made no protest when my sister was sent away to a marriage alliance with a prince who turned out not to be worthy even to look on her. And I never suspected…”