Hidden Princess

by M. A. Roth

  “Why would King Paulus want Morrick’s daughter?”

  “To use her against him,” Legis replies.

  Green eyes lets out a heavy breath of frustration. “King Paulus is smarter than that. If he wanted to get at Morrick why not take Clive or Luna? Morrick does not even know her.”

  “Maybe Paulus knows something we don’t,” Legis says, but doubt clouds his voice. What are they talking about? The creature mentioned this King Paulus. My stomach growls, reminding me it’s been nearly two days since I’ve eaten anything. I leave the tent.

  Legis is turning a rabbit over the fire, and he looks up at me. “Good morning.” I’m surprised he’s speaking to me after last night’s events.

  “Legis.” I sit on the log across from him. Green eyes gets up and leaves without a word. Legis focuses on the rabbit. When he feels it’s done, he takes it off the stick that has been pierced through its body and starts cutting it up with a small dagger. He places three large leaves— they look like dock leaves, the ones you use when you get stung by nettles—on the log beside him and equally divides the rabbit meat between the three of us. He hands a leaf across to me. “Thank you, Legis.” I raise my tied hands since he obviously missed that small detail. “Could you untie me?”

  “You will have to wait for Tristan to come back.” Legis doesn’t meet my eyes; instead, he starts eating his own meal. Tristan. His name kind of suited him. He looked like a warrior. Well it was better than green eyes.

  “I haven’t eaten anything in two days. Untie me, please.”

  His face darkens. “If I were you, I would stay quiet.”

  A half an hour later, Tristan returns from wherever he was. All of Legis’s food is gone and mine is cold at this stage. Tristan looks at the two leaves on the log and then at Legis. He kneels down in front of me with a small dagger. “If you try to escape, I will tie your hands and legs every day. Understand?” When he looks up at me my pulse spikes. This close, I can see flecks of gold amidst his iris.

  A few days growth of stubble has started to appear, on his jaw line. I hate how aware I am of him. His eyes search my face. “Do you understand?” A blush creeps into my cheeks. How long was I staring at him? I drop my gaze and lift my up my hands. “Yes, I understand.” He cuts the rope. Rubbing my raw, red wrists gives me some relief. Tristan hands me my leaf of rabbit meat. I take it and start eating immediately. We sit in silence and when Legis passes me water I gulp it down greedily. Wiping some of it off my chin I finish the rest of the rabbit. I don’t care now that they watch me, filling my belly and quenching the thirst is all that matters now.

  Once I have eaten Tristan doesn’t waste any time retying my hands, thankfully he doesn’t gag me again, but his eyes hold a warning.

  We set off on the horses and moved fast until the sand under their hooves gives way to green grass. There is dew on the grass, giving it a frosty effect. The sun is high in the sky and there isn’t as much as a small breeze now. Sweat has gathered all over my body. We push on through the green grass. My hands are still tied, so there isn’t much of a chance to escape. If I’d just waited until we were out of the desert, I might have gotten away.

  “We are close to a spring, if you want to get washed before we arrive.” Tristan’s breath brushes my hair as he speaks, making me shiver. A wash sounds perfect, but I’m not taking a wash in front of these men.

  “No, I’m fine.” I know I smell anything but fine. But cleanliness wasn’t exactly on the top of my agenda. Silence follows as we travel for another while before the horses slow down and we stop. Tristan helps me off the horse and releases my hands while giving me another warning before handing me water. As if I could run with both of them watching me. I sit down in the long grass. The sun hasn’t dried up the dew. It soaks into my trousers, but what does it matter? I could be dead in a few hours. Trees spread evenly apart, letting enough sun in, yet offering shelter. The shape of the trees reminds me of hands spread out facing upwards. It’s a little creepy that I haven’t heard as much as a bird since I arrived in this world. I watch as Tristan rubs his horse down, whispering to her about what a great girl she is. He’s better with the animals than humans.

  Once he has finished petting her, he looks to Legis with a nod before turning to me. “It’s time.” He says and I can’t stop the fear that courses through me. Time for what? I don’t remember standing up but I am. Tristan walks beside me as we move silently on foot, once again our surroundings change and I pause as we approach the mouth of a cave. Its mouth looks daunting. I look to Tristan but he stares at the cave and I use these few moments to distract my active mind. The area is barren. A few bushes rustle in a slight breeze that’s started to blow, yet the sky is cloudless. Is this the last time I’ll see the sky? Home has never felt so far away. I’m nudged towards the cave by Legis as Tristan takes the lead. Running isn’t possible. I wouldn’t get two feet before they’d grab me. Taking a deep breath, I try to steady myself and follow Tristan into the cave.

  Inside, the cave is lit up with torches attached to the walls of the long corridor. I keep on Tristan’s heels until he makes a sharp left turn into a large room. A fire burns in the center, outlined with rocks that are blackened from constant use. Other than the fire, the room is empty. The sound of stone grinding makes me look away from the flames. My eyes don’t adjust straight away as sparks still dance in front of me. They’re soon replaced with Tristan pushing in stones on the cave’s wall. A click sounds; the part he pressed on slides back, letting in a draft of air that makes the flames dance wildly along the cave walls. A tunnel all lit up with torches stretches out before me. I can’t see what’s at the end, as it curves to the right. Tristan waits patiently for me to step completely into the tunnel. My fear has rendered me frozen in the secret doorway, but a gentle nudge from Legis pushes me on.

  I take another deep breath to steady my frantic heartbeat. I glance at Tristan to try to read his face for what to expect, but it shows me nothing, perfectly blank. Legis joins us and the door slides shut with a thud that feels so final.

  Light from the torches gleams on the dagger that Tristan holds in his right hand as he approaches me. Panic rises. Why kill me now? I move back, but am held still by Legis. Now I’m face to face with Tristan. I start to struggle but Legis’ grip is iron. I want to plead as Tristan moves even closer but the sound of rope hitting the stone floor and the free feeling in my wrists makes my eyes flash to Tristan. There’s a glint of amusement in his eyes and then I’m faced with his broad back as he walks on down the tunnel. I follow as I rub my raw wrists. Every step makes me more nervous. Tristan steps through an archway into another large room. He moves aside and I’m faced with six people, but it’s only one that makes my heart race. My mind isn’t sure if what I’m seeing is real.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  SARAJANE

  Mum?” I whisper. I stumble towards her not sure what I’m waiting for, for her to disappear maybe?

  “Mum?” I question again and she closes the distance between us and I’m in her arms. My vision blurs as tears fill my eyes and all the fear melts away as it trails down my face. The smell of freshly cut grass and lavender encircles me, turning my silent cries into low sobs. For six months I had searched the woods for her where she had disappeared. For six months I had prayed I would find her. Here she was. Her hands rubbing my hair.

  “I can’t believe it’s you,” I say and I need to see her face. She looks the same, but there’s a sadness wrapped around her, giving her appearance a grey shadow. I’m startled by my own analysis, but she kisses my forehead, wiping these thoughts away and replacing them with joy.

  “Yes, it is me, love. Are you hungry?” I nod. She takes me by the elbow and leads me through the room that seems to serve as a sitting room and a kitchen. I’m taking everything in from the touch of my mother to the smells that surround me. My mind is a jumbled mess, so I focus on my surroundings. The floors are bare, just concrete, but swept free of any dirt.

  Large red armchair
s are positioned around a fire in a large circle; a couch lies behind them, covered in sheepskin. There are large paintings of what look like kings and queens, framed in gold. Red material is held onto the walls and draped down to the floor.

  My mother leads me to a large table that could hold up to fourteen people. The chairs with tall backs look heavy and are covered in a royal blue lush fabric. When I sit, I am surprised to feel cushion under me. I was waiting to feel hard wood. I can see my reflection in the perfectly polished table. I look exactly how I feel—bewildered, confused and tired. Large dark circles have formed under my eyes; my hair looks like a crow’s nest. A bowl of soup slides in front of me and I can no longer see myself, thankfully. My mother hands me a spoon. “You are safe now. We will talk later, but first, eat and then we will get you cleaned up.” I squeeze her hand just to make sure she’s real. I have so many questions and I pause. “Eat Sarajane.” She tells me and I do without actually tasting the food. She watches me as I eat. Every time our eyes meet we smile at each other. The others are talking, but I don’t strain to hear their conversation. I just focus on my mother.

  Once my bowl is drained, my mother leaves the table and takes me by the elbow again. She introduces me to Alana.

  “I have a bath ready for you, my lady.” Alana is beautiful with strawberry-blond straight hair and a full fringe that draws you to her eyes. They are a deep blue, but her left iris is circled in an unusual gold band. Her tall, slim figure would be suitable to the catwalk, and her pale complexion doesn’t make her look ill, just flawless. She smiles at me self-assuredly and escorts my mother and me to what mum calls my sleeping chambers. The way everyone is talking including my mother is sending my head in a spin. It’s like I’ve woken up in another century. But my mother is here I tell myself. Alive and safe. The furnishings and material are something you might expect to see in a castle. The first thing my eyes take in is a huge four-poster bed that dominates the room, covered in snow- white linen. A heavy chest rests at the foot of the bed. Alana removes a full-length, simple purple dress and lays it on the bed carefully. The floor has a royal blue carpet that my feet sink into. A large bronze bath is placed to the right of the bed and steam billows from the boiling water.

  “Alana, could you help me?” my mother asks. Alana bustles across the room to where my mother is standing beside a large mirror. The gold-framed mirror is wide enough to reflect five people standing side by side. They push it further down the room, revealing a fire that is already stacked with logs, and my mother lights it. There are no windows in the room; the only light comes from the torches along the walls placed about five feet apart. After I gape at the room, my mother helps me remove my clothes. Her hands linger on my wrists and anger radiates from her. “Who did this?” She meets my eyes with the fierce stare of a mother frightened for her child.

  “I tried to escape.” I take off my tunic to avoid any more questions. She helps me with the rest of my clothes, her anger still covering her like oil poured on water. As I step in the hot water I lower myself slowly, letting my body adjust to the temperature. I close my eyes and try to relax. I can hear my mother gathering my dirty clothes.

  “Why didn’t they just tell me you were here?” I ask my first question. She meets my gaze with sadness. “Would you have believed them?” She lets the question linger, but when I don’t answer, she picks up my boots with her free hand and turns to Alana. “I will be back shortly.” She smiles at me and closes the half-circle door as she leaves. Panic has me trying to rise but Alana is there now shushing me. “She will return shortly. Right now you must bathe.” I look from the door to Alana and try to quell down on the fear that threatens to choke me. I wouldn’t have believed Tristan, not in a million years, if he told me he was taking me to my mother.

  “My lady, I will wash your hair.” Alana holds a jug and small bottles of what I presume is shampoo. Feeling exposed in front of her causes color to creep into my cheeks. My embarrassment turns to anger. “Don’t call me my lady,” I snap.

  “Shall I call you princess?” Her voice holds a hint of laughter. She’s making fun of me. My face reddens.

  “No. Sarajane.”

  “Very well, Sarajane.” She gives me a little curtsy, smartly. What’s with this girl? Her hands move expertly across my scalp, massaging the shampoo into my hair. It smells like coconut. I want to relax into the warm water and remind myself that my mother is alive, but I want answers. I plunge my head into the water rinsing off the shampoo. When I rise from the water Alana holds out a white towel that I wrap myself in. Alana lets me face the mirror as she combs through my tangled hair. It’s at that moment my mother returns. I wait for her to start to talk but instead her and Alana dress me and tug at me. I’m trying to catch my mother’s eyes but she doesn’t meet them. When she turns me around to the mirror I’m surprised at the girl who looks back.

  My mother meets my eyes in the mirror. “Purple suits you, love.” I’m staring at her before I glance at myself again. My blue eyes look intense and my tan seems deeper than normal. After spending so much time outside lately I’m not surprised. The simple gold sandals on my feet are comfortable and it’s nice to be finally out of the boots.

  “Mum are you going to tell me what’s going on?” Alana flickers a gaze to my mother who is checking the clasps on the shoulder of the dress that held it up.

  “Not now.” She tells me while focusing on the dress. Irritation grows but I remind myself that she’s alive and that should be enough for now.

  When we return to the main room, it’s empty and Alana serves us tea while we sit in the large armchairs beside the fire. I take a sip and it leaves a funny taste in my mouth.

  “I don’t know where to start,” my mother admits. It’s like my body sighs, I was going to find out what was going on.

  “Mum, it’s okay. You’re alive. That’s the most important thing. Dad and Jessica will be ecstatic.” My mother’s face grows more worried. This must be bad. We sit looking at each other for a few moments and finally she speaks, “This is my home.” Not what I was expecting, but I try to keep my face neutral. “I was twenty-five and pregnant with you. At the time there were rumours of trouble brewing so I left and crossed over to the mortal world.”

  I don’t respond. All I think of is that I’m from this world, which separated from the ‘mortal world’. I try to allow that to slowly sink in. My mind grows frantic with questions.

  “Love, this is a lot to take in, so that’s enough for now.” I go to speak, but she gives me her don’t cross me look. “It is all going to be fine. Now we will eat.” Right on cue, Alana appears and starts stirring a large black pot that sits above the fire. It reminds me of a witch’s cauldron. My mother sets the table for seven people. I stay in my armchair, lost in thought, trying to piece this together. I have so many questions.

  Three guards and a powerful-looking man arrive then. I scan their faces for Tristan and a pang of disappointment touches my chest when I don’t see him. What the hell? I question the emotion. The powerful-looking man sits in the armchair that my mother vacated. I study him. He has black shoulder-length hair that frames a strong face and alert blue eyes. He wears all black—a simple plain tunic, black trousers and boots, but it doesn’t take away the air of power about him. He reaches out his hand towards me. His fingers are long and look like he’s never done a hard day’s work in his life. “I am Morrick.”

  I take his hand and am surprised by the callouses that push against my palm. “Sarajane.”

  My mother watches us from across the table. She smiles and then busies herself helping Alana serve the three men who are now seated at the table. I drop Morrick’s hand realizing I’ve been holding it far too long. He gestures to the table. “Shall we?”

  The food is great. A stew made with vegetables, some I recognize and some I don’t. Morrick introduces me to the three men. “These are my guardians.” Then he gestures to the one nearest to him and introduces him as Kiar. Kiar has blond hair to his ears and pu
ppy dog brown eyes. There’s softness in him. He’s broad and tall, just like the next man I’m introduced to. His name is Liber. He doesn’t smile, just nods. He has a plain face and expression. The last man is the odd one out. His name is Neve. He’s thin and pale, with a shiny bald head and a crooked nose that looks like it was broken repeatedly. His expression is open and a wide smile greets me. I like him already. We all eat after the introductions. Neve and Kiar are best friends since childhood and they tease each other playfully, making everyone laugh. Kiar seems to be the older of the two and the smarter one as Neve is not the sharpest tool in the box.

  “Neve, remember the time you were trying to impress Gem,”

  Kiar says, already laughing. Neve grumbles, “Leave it out, Kiar.”

  But Kiar launches into the story. “He was trying to impress Gem with his fire affinity, saying it was a level three.” I notice a stiffness has fallen around the table, but Kiar doesn’t seem to pick up on it. “And he burnt all his hair and eyebrows off; none of it ever grew back.” I can’t help but laugh at the mental image of Neve with his hair on fire, but no one else seems to find the story funny.

  “Mum, what’s wrong?” I ask.

  Her smile is strained. “Nothing, love.”

  Everyone becomes very focused on their stew. “What is a fire affinity level?” I ask Kiar. I’ve never heard of it before. Maybe it’s a different way of explaining sticks on fire in this world. This world. I don’t think I could ever get used to that idea.

  My mother answers. “I don’t want to overload you with information, but since Kiar mentioned it…” Kiar gives a sorry look. “We are all born with an affinity, which means we have the ability to control an element—fire, air, earth or water. And the level is how good you are. It’s just one through three.”