The Carnelian Legacy (42 page)

“We made makeshift tents from the ship’s sails, found fresh water, and had enough food from the ship to last us for weeks. We removed all traces of the
Carnelian
, eventually burning the last of her for firewood. After that, we began to move inland, disguising ourselves as foreign immigrants. Some of us who were gifted in languages were able to pick up just enough English to get jobs and support the rest.”

Suddenly he looked at Marisa and tears filled his eyes.

“Your dad took on the weight of the world during those first few months and years. He became our community leader and held himself personally responsible to make sure each of the thirty-some Carnelians survived. Both your father and your mother had been born to a pampered life of royalty, but in that world, they were nothing more than immigrants. Working by the sweat of their brow, your mother became Alice and your father Alan.”

“All those years, I had no idea.” Marisa stared at him in amazement. As she listened to the story, the puzzle pieces of her life finally began to click into place. It was all coming together.

“I’ll never forget the day your dad and I met a man in a small grocery store up in the mountains. He asked us if we were from Scotland and made some remark about us sounding just like his grandfather who’d emigrated several years ago. We decided then to tell all outsiders that we were Scottish immigrants. Our family changed its name from Macario to MacCallum, and anytime someone wondered why we were slightly different and talked funny, we had an excuse.

“After that, we moved to Jacksonville and made a fresh start. The adults sealed a pact never to reveal who we were and where we’d come from. Everyone changed their names to sound more American and vowed to raise the children as Americans. We tried to blend into the community as much as possible, but we still had secret meetings where we could speak Crocine and fellowship together.”

Marisa just sat at the table, stunned. She started to realize why she’d always felt like an outsider in Jacksonville.

“And now you know the truth,” Uncle Al said softly.

“Does Mark know?”

He nodded. “I told him the whole story the day after you disappeared. Somehow I knew what had happened to you. Of course, Mark didn’t believe me at first. But then, sure enough, the day before yesterday, Celino came looking for us. He gave me twelve hours to get our affairs in order before we both followed him up into the woods.

“There were three flashes of light, a vortex of wind, and the next thing we knew, we landed somewhere down in the valley west of here. It was quite a hike up to the city, and by the time we finally made it to the citadel, your birthday party had already reached its high point, with Savino yellin’ and screaming.”

“That’s right—I forgot all about him,” Marisa said. She turned to Darian. “Where is he now?”

“He’s being escorted back to Abbadon by a group of warriors,” Darian said. “But don’t you worry. Talvan has an eye on him in case he tries anything. We’ll be forced to deal with him soon enough, though.”

“Hey, what’d I miss?” Mark asked, sitting down at the table.

“Everything,” Marisa said with a laugh. “So, now tell me about this ring. It actually
glows
. How does it do that?”

“Only when it touches the royal skin of the rightful heir to the throne of Crocetta does it revert to its true color and become the rarest of rare Ambrogia,” Darian said. “It’s extremely valuable.”

“But when I first put it on several months ago, it was just a pretty diamond. And up until a few days ago it was still clear. Now the color is a deep bluish-purple. Why now? Why all of a sudden?” She slipped the ring on and off her finger, watching it change from to clear diamond to deep purple and then back again.

“Because,” Darian said with a smile, taking her hand, “when you first wore the ring, you were still seventeen and you were on Earth. Once you landed in Carnelia, the closer you became to being the royal succession age of eighteen, the darker the stone became. Only, you didn’t notice the color changing in recent days because I had, ah—
borrowed
it.”

“So, it’s only glowing purple like that in Carnelia?”

“Yes,” said Uncle Al, “and it must be on the hand of the rightful heir. Your mother wore it at all times, but on Earth it became a diamond.”

“How is that even possible?”

Her uncle shrugged. “No one knows. The gem is carved out of an Ambrogia stone, which doesn’t even exist on Earth.”

Marisa turned to Darian. “
You
took my ring!” she said accusingly. “You knew where it was the whole time and you didn’t say a word!”

“I had to. You would have noticed the changing color and started to ask too many questions. I also couldn’t take the chance that Savino might see the ring turning purple. If he had discovered you were the princess, he could have kidnapped or even killed you. I needed the ring to prove you are the real Princess Maraya.”

“Is that what you’re gonna call me from now on?”

He smiled. “That’s up to you. Remember, you will be the queen soon, and you can call yourself anything you want. Maraya is your true name, given to you by your father and mother, but it’s up to you to decide what people will call you.”

“Queen…”

“Well, technically, you’re still a princess until your official coronation. Only then we may call you queen,” Darian answered.

Arrie finally spoke up. “You want to know what the best part of all this is, Your Highness?” A small smile played about his lips.

“No, but I’m sure you’re gonna tell me,” she said with a giggle.

“You actually
are
my cousin!”

Everyone around the table laughed, and she grabbed Arrie’s hand and gave it a warm squeeze. For a week that had started on such a depressing note, her situation had improved beyond her wildest dreams.

And for the first time in her life, she had a true purpose.

“And now,” Darian interrupted, “If you all would excuse us, I would like some time alone with Princess Maraya.”

He stood up from his chair, bowed formally to her and offered his arm. They strolled down to the stables where the footman was waiting next to the open door of the carriage. Filled with a joyful sense of contentment, Marisa sat down on the seat. Darian settled down next to her and pulled the wool blanket over them. The carriage rolled out of the citadel and down to the dark tunnel under the rampart wall.

As Marisa rested her head on Darian’s shoulder, she listened to the echoes of the horses’ hooves on the cobblestones. The carriage entered the city and people stopped to bow and curtsey as it passed them by. She waved to the people lined up on the streets and suddenly realized they were bowing to her.

“What a difference a day makes, don’t you think?” he asked.

“I keep pinching myself, sure that I’m going to wake up. I know this is all happening, but it’s still so surreal to me,” she said. She heard horses’ hooves clopping behind them and turned to peek out the rear window. There were six horses with riders following behind the carriage.

“There are your bodyguards again. I guess we still can’t be alone,” she said, teasing.

“Wrong. Those are
your
bodyguards,” he chuckled.

“Where are we going, anyway?”

“To
your
house.”

She smiled at him and snuggled close under the blanket. Soon they turned off the road, and the carriage stopped at the iron gates. Darian hopped out and opened the gate for them to pass.

As the carriage rode up the long lane, Marisa leaned out to see the stately Castle Beauriél. It no longer seemed eerie to her now.

“I came here alone a couple of days ago on Siena, and it scared me to death,” she confessed.

“What do you mean you came out here alone?”

She looked at him sheepishly. “I wanted to see the house again. Arrie gave me a key to get in, so I came down by myself. It was kind of creepy, though, and I thought I was seeing things.”

“What kinds of things?”

“I don’t know, people, visions. Glimpses of the future, I guess.”

The carriage pulled up the driveway and came to a halt. She climbed out and stared up at the façade. “It’s so strange, Darian, but somehow I feel as if I’ve been here before. I mean—before you brought me here.”

“But you were here before, Marisa. When I say this is your house, it truly is. You lived here with your parents from the day you were born until you were four.”

She was stunned. “This was our home?”

“Look carefully up there, just above the door. Don’t you recognize that coat-of-arms? It’s the same one on the clasp of your cloak. It’s the Fiore family crest.”

“That’s where I’ve seen it before!” she exclaimed. “It was driving me crazy when I was here before, but I never made the connection.”

“And you’re the one with an eye for detail?” he teased.

“Yeah, I guess I’m slipping a bit.”

They walked up the stairs to the front door. Darian pulled a key out of his pocket and led her inside. She stared at the foyer in amazement. Everything that had previously been covered up with sheets was now on prominent display.

Hand-carved pieces of furniture, paintings, sculptures, and antiques adorning every wall and corner had breathed life back into the house. It was all so striking and just as Marisa had dreamed the house should look.

“Oh, Darian—it’s so beautiful! Did you do all this?”

He nodded proudly. “You told me you would be moving out of the castle today, so I had to prepare for the eventuality that you might actually leave me.” She smiled and gave him a playful nudge. Her eyes roamed the room, admiring all the ornaments and details.

They entered the family living room where she had envisioned a large Christmas tree in the corner. The room was perfect for a family to sit together to read, play a game, or enjoy each other’s company.

As her eyes drunk in the details of the room, she noticed a brand new piano in the corner and she shrieked with delight. She hurried over to examine it.

Darian beamed. “What do you think of it, Marisa? Will it do?”

“Will it do? This is
amazing
!”

She lifted the lid and tapped on the keys. It was a beautiful instrument and she couldn’t wait to sit down and play on her own again. She lowered the lid and hurried over to the window.

“Darian, look at this! You can see the whole garden from these windows, and the trees—”

She turned to see him kneeling down in the middle of the room. His sword was unsheathed and extended out toward her.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

Without a word, he extended his sword further and motioned to it with his eyes. She just stared at him with a confused expression.

Darian rolled his eyes and grinned at her. “Marisa MacCallum, would you please do me the extreme honor of accepting my hand in marriage?”

Only then did she notice something on the tip of the blade. She looked closer and saw that it was a ring. Her eyes widened and a smile slowly spread across her face. Gingerly, she removed it from the tip of the sword. It was a golden ring with a large emerald surrounded by several smaller diamonds. Darian took it and slipped it on her finger.

“It belonged to my grandmother, Queen Aya Mondor,” he said. “King Petrus Fiore gave it to her as a wedding gift.”

Marisa screamed as she leapt and threw herself around him. She pulled his face down to meet hers, kissing him passionately on the lips. The love coursed through her lips to his, and she could not give enough nor get enough of his love. She held him tight, never wanting to let go.

Darian gently drew back and took her chin in his hand.

“So, does this mean yes?” he asked.

She wiped away a tear. “Yes,” she said.

“I am now officially the happiest man in Carnelia,” he said, beaming and kissing her again. He pulled away and looked at her mischievously. “I have one more surprise for you,” he said.

She pushed him away, laughing.

“No, Darian, I don’t think I can take any more surprises right now. Don’t you think that I’ve had enough to last me for a while?”

“Ah, but this one I think you’ll like,” he said mysteriously. He pulled her over to a table near the window and pointed to a terracotta pot containing a small white flower. “Look, Marisa, do you recognize your flower now?”

“Oh! Is that
my
flower?” she asked through tears. He nodded solemnly and she bent down to study it closer.

The small plant had bloomed into the most beautiful flower she had ever seen. Long, glowing tendrils of red floated and extended from the stem, and pinpoints of white light shot out from its center. Although the white petals on the outside had remained unchanged, the heart of the flower was alive, rolling and undulating in slow motion like seaweed on the ocean floor. She watched in fascination as the scarlet threads pulsated with color.

“But when did it open? When you gave it to me yesterday, it was still closed.”