2 Unhitched (23 page)

My writer’s block has put in an even fouler mood, so Calla’s return from school is a welcomed distraction. She’s like a whole new child. Cheerful and energetic. Secret, who hasn’t left my side all afternoon, dances circles around her, his tail wagging madly.

“Look what Hansel gave me!” She proudly holds up her wrist, showing off the bracelet Rump wove.

“It’s beautiful!” I gush.

“Do you think he likes me?” Calla looks up at me with her big brown eyes, the eyes that remind me so much of Gallant, despite their difference in color.

My eyes meet hers and I smile. “I think he does.”

Calla scoops up the puppy. “We’re going to play outside. I’m going to teach Secret a trick.”

Not a word about Henry. Thank goodness, she’s over him. My eyes follow her as she merrily skips out the French doors that lead to the garden. A pang of envy shoots through me. How lucky to be so young! And to recover so quickly from heartbreak. I wonder again if I’ll
ever
be able to rebound from my first true love. Gallant.

Chapter 17

H
OW QUICKLY THE WEEK HAS gone by. It’s Saturday again. Calla is eager to go on her weekly playdate at Winnie’s house. Hansel’s woven bracelet still circles her wrist, and she’s wearing Aurora’s dress.

“Do you think Hansel will like it?” she asks with a little twirl.

“He’ll love it,” I reply although the sight of it makes my stomach muscles clench.

The good news is that Calla will be at Winnie’s all day; I’ll be able to visit The Potato Sack Princess. After Calla skips into the courtyard with Secret, I prepare for my journey. The private investigator will surely need some information to help her identify the royal adulterers.

Heading over to Gallant’s desk, I slide open the top drawer and search for the small self-portrait I came across before discovering Aurora’s love letter. I find it right away in his stack of doodles. My heart sinks to my stomach as I study it. It’s a slightly younger Gallant, but his piercing blue eyes, tousled flaxen hair, and dimpled smile are unmistakable. Holding it, I feel My Prince slipping out of my fingers. I take a deep, painful breath and refocus on my mission.

I rifle through the desk with hope of finding that sketch of Sleeping Nudie. It’s not here. A description of Aurora will have to do. Grabbing a sheet of parchment and a stylus, I scribble:
Tall, thin, blond, blue-eyed, and beautiful. Very princessy.

After packing the portrait and description in my purse, right next to my list of evidence and the original incriminating evidence, Aurora’s love letter, I ask one of our servants to saddle up my horse. I’m going to make the trip alone. It’s better that no one knows where I’m going, including our help. Who knows? They could blow my whole plan by telling Gallant, the last person I want to find out.

Mentally retracing my father’s map in my head, I lead my horse across an unfamiliar route, filled with dense, overgrown foliage. Signs of human life are far and few between. An occasional cottage; nothing more. A chill runs through me as the wind kicks up. This would definitely not be a good place to have an accident. Soon, all traces of human life disappear.

My woolen cloak flaps loudly against the brisk air as the horse gallops. My mind races, filling with impending doom. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. Finally, after about three hours, I pull up to a weather-beaten sign.

BEWARE!

You are now entering the Forbidden Forest!

Proceed at your own risk!

A shiver runs down to the base of my spine. I didn’t realize that The Potato Sack Princess lived in this remote and perilous part of Lalaland. Few people have ever been here, and even fewer have ever returned upon venturing on its soil. Lore has it that it’s home to hordes of horrific creatures—boggarts, goblins, gremlins, and other evil forest spirits. And didn’t the Badass Fairies say that this is where Malevolence hangs out? With my luck, I’ll run smack into her. She’ll turn into a fire-breathing dragon and barbecue me in one breath. And then a brainstorm hits me. If I encounter her, I’ll bargain for my life. “Let me go and I’ll lead you to Aurora.” That’s who she really wants. It’ll be a win-win for the both of us. Dragon or no dragon, I’ve come this far, and I’m not turning back.

Trotting slowly, my horse and I enter the foreboding forest. At first, it’s what you’d expect any forest to be—a dense, verdant array of tall aromatic trees. My eyes dart back and forth like a pendulum, watchful for the unexpected and hopeful for a sign of The Potato Sack Princess’s castle. Nothing. The fresh, invigorating scent of evergreens soon gives way to the rancid smell of rotting wood, and I notice dead logs in our path. Soon, there is not a sign of greenery anywhere. Everything is charcoal black. Burnt to a crisp. It looks and smells as if a terrible fire has rampaged the forest.

My childhood fear of being alone in a dark forest comes back to haunt me with a vengeance. My imagination goes wild, scaring me silly. Any minute I expect the seared, sinewy trees to turn into monsters and wrap their gnarly charred branches around me. Or one of those frightful creatures I’ve heard about to jump out of nowhere and attack me. And, of course, there’s the possibility of a fire-breathing dragon, be it Malevolence or another, swooping down upon me. I shudder to think that a dragon’s fiery breath caused so much devastation.

All of my senses are on high alert. I give my horse a kick to go faster. The horse whinnies and bolts. Without warning, dozens of grotesque imps with large pointed ears tumble out of the trees. They’re all over me! Pinching me, pulling at my clothes, and nit picking my hair with their sharp dirty nails. Shrieking, I swat at them frantically, trying to flick them off. No matter what I do, I can’t get rid of them.
Okay, Jane. It’s time to panic.

“Leave me alone!” I scream. “My father-in-law is the King of Lalaland, and I can have you arrested!”

The revolting creatures continue their vicious assault and jabber in a strange high-pitched gibberish. Great! They don’t even speak the same language.

Think, Jane, think.
I know. Maybe I can befriend them or, at least, bargain with them.

“Hi,” I say in the sweetest voice I can muster.

What do you know! They calm down, and their cacophony quiets to a hum. One of them, the apparent leader, says something and points to the purse that’s slung across my cloak.

“You want my purse?” Hesitantly, I pantomime handing it over to them.

The insipid imps jump up and down. Their drone once again turns dissonant and deafening.

“Fine.”
Not fine
. All my money is in there, along with the Gallant’s self-portrait, my evidence list, the description of Aurora, and her love letter. But I have no choice—my life trumps my purse. I slide the purse over my head and hand it to the leader.

With great curiosity, he examines the bag. I hold my breath as he unlatches it and shakes it upside down. Dozens of gold coins fall to the blackened ground while the rest of the contents blow away with wind. Everything I needed for The Potato Sack Princess is gone!

Like a flock of hungry ducks who have discovered breadcrumbs, the imps jump off me and scuttle to the coins. They gather them up and scamper off with their booty. I’m free of them, but penniless. I suppose this was a small price to pay for my life.

Gloom sweeps over me. Worse than being broke, I no longer have Gallant’s self-portrait. The list of evidence and description of Aurora—and even her original love letter—are not that important, but how will The Potato Sack Princess find Gallant without knowing what he looks like?

Disheartened, I dismount my horse to retrieve my purse. This whole journey has been pointless. Not meant to be, as Winnie would say. As I crouch down to pick up my purse, something flies into my face. I peel it off. What do you know! Gallant’s self-portrait! With renewed purpose, I place it my purse and climb back up on my horse.

The rest of the journey is uneventful, although I don’t let my guard down for a second. At any time, an evil creature, as tall as a tree or as small as a blade of grass, can strike. Most of all, I fear a dragon encounter. Malevolence.

At last, through the tangles of blackened branches, an imposing castle comes into view. Or should I say what little remains of an imposing castle. It, too, looks like it’s been rampaged by a massive fire. It’s still smoldering, and a thick layer of black soot covers the decaying façade.

I’ve followed the map to a tee. This must be my destination. The headquarters of The Potato Sack Princess. Yet, it’s not humanly possible for anyone to inhabit this wreck of a castle. Especially a princess.

I dismount my horse. My feet sink into the sooty, ash-covered ground, and I immediately wish I had worn a pair of old hiking boots instead of Elz’s gorgeous custom-made leather riding boots. I swear if they get ruined, I’m going to deduct the cost of their replacement from The Potato Sack Princess’s bill.

Someone royal and privileged must have indeed once lived here, I think as I tread on the charred remnants of a past life. Chunks of blackened gilded frames, smoky mirrors, and scattered crystals, and even the seared, tattered remains of what was likely once a beautiful gown. A life of luxury that went up in smoke. A tinge of sadness pains me. Princess Lisbon, like me, lost everything that was dear to her. A crunchy sound makes my skin crawl. I look down—the remains of a human skull are beneath the soles of my boots. That’s it. I’m out of here. I’ll find another way to prove that Gallant is having an affair with Aurora.

As I turn around, a raspy voice stops me. “Over to the left.” My eyes swish to a slightly ajar arched door that’s carved into a massive tree trunk. It has a huge metal knocker and a sign above it that reads:

The Potato Sack Princess: Finder of Lost Loves

ENTER AT YOUR OWN RISK!

Okay. I’ve indeed found her. A voice in my head tells me to get back on my horse and get the hell out of here. I take a deep breath. “GO!” the voice says louder, as sure as death. I ignore it. I’ve come this far. There’s no going back.

The minute I step foot in the dark, cavernous trunk, I have second thoughts. A cloud of smoke envelops me. My eyes sting, and I can’t stop coughing That’s it. I’m out of here!

But before I can pivot around, the door bolts behind me, and I’m shoved onto a super-sized, sooty, tattered chair. I think the remains of what must have once been a throne. Standing before me is petite woman who’s wearing nothing more than a soiled potato sack and a partially melted gold crown atop her head. Her scrawny limbs are covered with soot; her fingernails are ragged and filthy, and her scraggily ash-brown hair looks like it’s been singed. And she stinks. I can’t help wondering when was the last time she went to a spa. Or even took a bath.

She gives me a scathing look and hands me a card.

THE POTATO SACK PRINCESS

Experienced. Expedient. Expensive.

“I’m a very busy princess, so get straight to the point,” she rasps, her hoarse voice I’m sure the result of living in this smoke-filled hellhole. Sheesh! Doesn’t she know that smoke is bad for your health? That it can lead to birth defects or even death? On second thought, she must since the sign on her door says “Enter at Your Own Risk.”

I spew the words as fast as I can. “I believe my husband is having an affair with a princess named Aurora. I need concrete proof that he’s sleeping with her.”

“What does she look like?”

I recite the description I wrote down verbatim.

She rolls her eyes. “Another beautiful blonde. They’re a dime a dozen. What about him?”

Reaching into my purse, I hand her Gallant’s self-portrait.

With her head bowed down and brows furrowed, she paces the cave and studies it. The unreadable look on her face is angsting me out. What’s her problem? She wants the case or she doesn’t. Finally, she hands me back the portrait.