The Rules of Ever After (4 page)

“But why would he marry me? He’s never met me. I’m not even a princess.”

“What have I told you!” The old woman slapped the girl lightly on the hand. “You
are
a princess. I’ve trained you to be a princess. You must believe you are a princess and, most importantly,
say
you are a princess.”

“And if I just show up, he will believe me and marry me?”

“No. Of course not,” Cauchemar said, rolling her eyes. “But I have laid the groundwork for that. You’ll pass the test.”

“A test?” Katerina cried out. “I haven’t studied for any test.”

“But you have, my dear. All you must do is stay awake all night, as I have had you do for these past two years.”

Katerina looked at her aunt, her brow wrinkling. “That makes no sense.”

Cauchemar grunted and leaned her head against the windowsill. “There is an old legend that a true princess is so sensitive she can feel a pea beneath twenty mattresses, and the lump of the pea will cause her pain enough to keep her awake all night.” She chuckled and waved the thought away with a bony hand. “It’s an absurd notion, but these royals are so inbred they will believe anything. I’ve made sure every girl who attempted the test has failed, thanks to my sleep-inducing peas! But you’ll remain awake on top of an ordinary pea. The next glorious morning you’ll be declared a true princess and marry Prince Phillip. No army needed. Just one simple pea.”

“How do you know this is the test?”

“Because I set the whole thing up. By Godrick the Golden, you’re a dimwit sometimes. I’m married to his father, King Henry. He knows I am a wise woman and, thanks to my interpretation of his former wife’s dying words, he follows my advice.” Cauchemar closed her eyes and sighed with self-satisfaction.

Taking advantage of her aunt’s closed eyes, Katerina leaned out the window and looked for Peter’s lantern before saying, “King Henry and Prince Phillip of Bellemer? I know them from the
Who’s Who of Clarameer Royals
book you made me read. But if you’re already married to the king, why do you need me? You have your throne, and we could live there at ease without me marrying some stranger prince.”

Cauchemar opened her eyes and stared at Katerina in disgust. “My dear, do you know what happens to the second wife of a king when he dies? She gets tossed out of the main gate on her widowed derrière. The child of the first wife takes the throne and has no need of an old woman he has never loved.”

“But not if her niece is married to the new king?”

“Well, not if her niece is the new queen and something happens to the new king.”

“That’s an awful thought. And surely direct blood relations will claim the throne.”

“No, my dear, you will already be carrying the next king in your womb.” Cauchemar reached over and patted Katerina’s stomach. “The poor widowed mother will be pitied and adored by the peas­ants and get to keep her throne. She will need her beloved Auntie at her side as a guide.”

“But how could you wish death on the prince?” Katerina asked, inching herself slowly away from her aunt’s hand. “That is heartless, and you have no guarantee he won’t live a long and happy life. Unless…” Katerina frowned.

“Yes, it is morbid but necessary. The day after your wedding there is to be a great hunt where your new husband must kill a stag and bring it home to share with his new bride at a feast. Your future husband has no skill with a bow, but he will draw his arrow and aim for the stag.” Cauchemar raised her arms as if pulling back the string of a bow, and aimed at a candle sitting on a bookshelf across the room. She released her imaginary arrow and Katerina jumped as the candle suddenly toppled over and was extinguished. “
His
shot will mysteriously go astray and land right in the chest of his dear old daddy. As he stands there in shock, the stag will defend himself from attack with a well-placed antler right to the young prince’s chest.”

Katerina gasped as she covered her eyes. “That is terrible.”

“As I said, morbid but necessary. But you will then be the queen of the kingdom and mother of the heir. There is a reason this must take place
after
your wedding night. It’s easy as can be. See, no army needed. Just a pea, two beds and an aunt with a plan.”

“No,” Katerina screamed. She bolted from the window sill and ran toward her bed. “I will not help you kill two men just so you can claim a throne.”

“Why, you ungrateful little twit,” Cauchemar shrieked, as she rose from the window in a rush with smoke and fire dancing around her shoulders. “I could have left you for dead, screaming into the night on your dying mother’s breast. And this is the thanks I receive?”

“No, Auntie!” Katerina cried, as she dropped beside her bed and cowered. “Please. I cannot allow you to kill a poor innocent prince.”

“Fine,” Cauchemar said coldly, as her face fell stone still. The smoke and fire about her head dissipated as she walked slowly to the rows of shelves on the far wall. “Then I shall go back to the kingdom and never return. You shall remain in this tower all by yourself. If starvation does not take you first, then I am sure you can find something on these shelves to end it all when the boredom drives you mad.” Tossing a jar onto the bed beside the girl, she spat, “That one would do nicely.”

Katerina picked up the jar and read the label aloud. “Pushing Up Daisy Root.” She shifted her eyes from the jar to her aunt’s back, then sobbed and stood slowly. While turning to the open window and wondering if she could survive the leap, Katerina noticed the faint flicker of Peter’s lantern still in the bushes. Pushing her shoulders back and wiping the tears from her cheeks, she said, “I see I have no choice. I’ll go to Bellemer and marry Prince Phillip. The southern kingdom is where I’ll be.”

Cauchemar turned back to the girl and smiled. “I knew you’d see the wisdom of my plan. Now gather your prettiest things, and let’s begin your lessons. Tomorrow, after you have slept, we shall depart. I brought you a satchel for your dresses, but you need not pack much. I have already gathered most of what you’ll need. Once you are queen, you will have any dress you want.” She turned to the shelf again and grabbed a glass container. “I need a few provisions from my jars. Stork Tears: to guarantee a baby. Dragon Saliva: to put a little fire in that boy’s heart for your wedding.”

“My wedding,” Katerina mumbled and she looked down to the ground. She could just make out the bobbing light of Peter’s lantern as he ran off into the woods. She could only hope he had heard and understood her pleas. She stumbled to the bed to find her satchel.

“Her wedding! It’s what every girl dreams of.” Cauchemar purred, grabbed another jar and dropped it into the bag at her feet.

Katerina dropped onto her bed and buried her face in her hands. “I don’t remember
this
dream.”

“S
eventy-Eight. Seventy-Nine. Eighty,” Daniel said
as he stepped up to the stump in the middle of the path. Dropping the reins he held, he turned to his horse and said, “How about that, Rosemary? Eighty steps from the fence to the stump. Of course, that knowledge gains me absolutely nothing, but at least I know.” He opened a saddle bag, retrieved a folded map and dropped it by the stump.

Sitting on the stump, he adjusted the laces of his soft leather boot, then ran his fingers through his wavy black hair. He pulled down on the hem of his forest green doublet and smoothed a wrinkle in his dark brown leggings. He picked up the map and unfolded it.

“Now, let’s see where we are.” He placed his finger on his castle in the forests of Sylvania to the east then dragged it up the border with Osterling to the lands in the north. “First we went north into the mountains of Upper and Lower Lipponia. Then we came back south along the Rupert River beside the troll king’s wall around Cantera.” Daniel pointed to the kingdom in the center of the map through which James had drawn a large red line. “Clearly, we won’t be going in there. So if we crossed the river back there on this bridge, we must be near the beaches of Bellemer. About here, I think.” Daniel placed his finger on the map and showed it to the horse. “Next we will head west into Dealonia’s farmland to see Emmaline and Robert. I have to apologize for missing her wedding. That covers all of Clarameer, I guess. If I don’t have my answer by then, we’ll just keep heading west to visit my mother’s people in Glorianna. Does that sound like a good plan, Rosemary?”

The horse leaned its head over and nuzzled at his neck. “I know. I told James I would wait by that gate, but this is as good a place as any. Go on. Find something to eat.” As the horse ambled away, Daniel dropped the map, stretched his legs out in front of him and leaned his head back, letting the sunlight warm his face. “It’s only eighty steps away.”

In the two years since his eighteenth birthday and the onset of his insomnia curse, Daniel had counted the paces between land­marks all over the kingdoms of Clarameer. He no longer counted steps just to induce sleep, but as second nature. Often he would arrive at a spot with a number in his head, completely unaware he had been counting along the way.

Daniel had not started out counting paces but had counted sheep, much as any sleepless person would do. But the sheep grew monotonous, and he began switching it up. After counting the stones in the walls of his bedchamber several times, he counted the number of times his heart would beat in an hour. Then he began counting the stars he could see out of his window. Realizing there were many stars he couldn’t see from his bed, he was struck with the idea of attempting to sleep in the courtyard with an entire sky’s worth of stars over his head. He approached his brother the next day with the idea. Andrew sat on his throne beneath a green and brown banner embroidered with the acorns of the Sylvanian royal family crest. Though he would not be officially king until he married, Andrew had taken to sitting on the throne and wearing his deceased father’s crown in an exercise he called “practicing.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Danny,” Prince Andrew had scoffed, waving Daniel away. He shifted on his throne until he could see his reflection better in the shiny silver breastplate of the guard standing beside him; he smoothed his black hair over his ear. With a wink at his reflection, he said, “I will not have a member of this family lying about the courtyard like some stable boy. It’s unbecoming of your status as the younger brother and next in line to the throne of the best-looking prince in the kingdoms. What if you caught the rain plague and died? Mother would have my head on a platter. And, after all, it would be a crime for a face this handsome to be separated from a body this strong. Staying safely in your warm bed is really doing a service to all the single ladies of Clarameer.”

“But, Andy,” Daniel protested, “there hasn’t been a plague in the kingdoms for years. And I don’t sleep! What does it matter where I sit awake? Who knows? Some fresh air might actually lead me to sleep. It’s one thing we haven’t tried. James said he’ll join me. It’ll be fun for us, and I’m so bored.”

“See, that is exactly my point,” Andrew said, with a roll of his eyes. “That orphan twit you call your squire is nothing but a glori­fied stable hand. Of course he’d be at home sleeping on the stones of our courtyard. He’s a cast-off of the woods! That’s where Mother found him all those years ago when she was out riding. If she hadn’t taken pity on him, he would have died out there or been taken in by a family more suited to his birth. Frankly, it’s a bit of an embarrassment that Mother lets him run around this castle with you as if he were one of us. We know nothing of where he came from. He is a pinecone that fell from a tree, for all we know.”

“Andrew, shut up,” Daniel grumbled, as he took a step toward the throne. The guards crossed their spears to prevent him from approaching any closer. “I will not have you talking badly about James. So what if he is an orphan? He is the best man in this kingdom and the most devoted to me. Goodness is not some magical component of royal blood, as you so clearly show.”

“Yes, you like having him follow you around, don’t you? You can fawn and moon over him all you want, and he can’t refuse a prince, now can he?” Turning to the guard on his left, Andrew giggled and said, “I think my little brother would like his little knight to hop in his saddle.”

“You’re lucky you have those guards, or I would knock that crown right off your empty head.”

“Oooh! Someone is getting grumpy. Maybe baby brother needs a nap.”

“Very funny. You know what, brother?” Daniel said, as an idea began to grow. With a smirk, he looked up at his brother. “You’re right. I’m not going to spend the night in the courtyard.”

“Of course you aren’t.”

“No. I’m going to spend the night outside these castle walls.”

“Yes. You are going to spend the night… wait… what?”

“I’m heading out into the kingdoms. I’ll never find the cure for this curse just sitting around this castle being the consolation prince. As soon as you find a bride, you will be crowned king, and I’ll have even less to do than I do now. I can’t stand it anymore; I need to find something to do with my time. I’ve been waiting for answers to come to me, but maybe they’re waiting for me some­where out there.”

“Daniel, calm down. Mother will never go for that. It’s not safe out there for a prince alone. You’re just being silly. Your job is to sit around staying safe in case something happens to me, not larking about the kingdoms trying to get yourself killed.”

“I can defend myself. It’s amazing how much sword practice you can fit in when you don’t sleep.”

“You’ll get lost.”

“I’ve memorized maps of the kingdoms.”

“You know nothing about life outside these walls.”

“I know things. Lots of things. I’ve read every book in that tiny collection our tutor calls a library. What I don’t know, I will learn in the world. You know, the more I think about it, I can’t believe I haven’t set out before now. The only things I really have are some knowledge, plenty of curiosity and endless time. So why shouldn’t I put them to good use?”

“But what if you’re captured? I’m not paying a ransom for a silly boy who is off on an even sillier jaunt.”

“I’ll dress like a commoner. No one will know I’m a member of this family. Look, I’ll take James with me. He’ll protect me.”

“Oh, I’m sure. I feel so much better knowing you’ll be protected by the dimwit pinecone knight.”

“I’m going.”

“I may not officially be king yet, but without my blessing you’re not going anywhere!”

“Watch me,” Daniel said with a smirk, as he turned and began walking out of the throne room.

“Daniel!” Andrew rose quickly with his golden crown slipping askew on his head. “You come back here! If you take one more step, I’ll—I’ll—I’ll tell mother!”

Now, as Daniel sat on the stump and thought back to that day, the whole argument seemed like a dream. At least, it seemed like what he vaguely remembered a dream was. That was one of the many drawbacks to never sleeping—no dreams.

Daniel recalled the day he and James began their journey. Luck­ily, his mother had been much more level-headed and open to his plans than his stubborn brother. She instantly gathered her ladies-in-waiting to pack clothing and provisions for him and James. She refused to let him go dressed as a commoner, though.

“You’ll see, my baby boy,” she cooed, as she pushed an errant curl from his forehead, “your royal blood and the respect it brings can protect you more than the heaviest shield, and it can open more doors than the shiniest of keys.”

Early the next morning, the stablemen had brought the two best horses for Daniel and James. The horses were draped in Daniel’s green and brown family colors, and someone had woven ribbons into their manes. Flowers and bunting covered the courtyard walls, and all of the castle staff had gathered at the gates to see them off. Daniel was moved to see many of the older women dab their eyes with handkerchiefs. As he walked to the horses, Daniel had to pull James away from two of his mother’s prettiest ladies-in-waiting, Rosemary and Lillianne.

“Wait for me, girls,” James had said to the girls with a wink. “I will name these two horses in your honor so I will think of you on our entire trip.”

“Come along, Sir Heartbreaker,” Daniel called to James with a laugh. “The setting sun waits for no man’s heart.” They mounted the horses and rode over to the decorated platform where his mother and brother stood to see them off.

“Sir Pinecone,” Prince Andrew said, “you bring him back alive and sleeping or you don’t come back at all. And you, little brother, try to find a sense of humor out there somewhere.”

Daniel ignored his brother as best he could and leaned over in his saddle to kiss his mother’s cheek. Queen Rhea’s gilded crown of oak leaves and acorns sat gracefully atop her jet black hair and glittered in the bright afternoon sun as she leaned over the railing to accept Daniel’s kiss. Although she held her smile in a perfect imitation of calm, the queen’s green eyes revealed the true fear and sorrow she was feeling. Daniel had learned at an early age that the best way to know his mother’s feelings was to look into her eyes. She had informed him that his own eyes revealed his secrets as well. Daniel and his sister, Emmaline, had taken after their Gloriannan mother in both looks and temperament—darker skin and hair but a light, studious and careful nature for which Glorianna and its many universities were known. His brother was much more like his Clarameeran father—fair skinned and light eyed, but as feisty, temperamental, and changeable as the citizens and landscape of their homeland.

Queen Rhea leaned over and pinned a small green ribbon with an acorn pendant on his doublet. Patting his breast where the token hung, she said, “You are going into the other kingdoms within the realm of Clarameer as a representative of your family and your kingdom. You will show the other kingdoms who we
really
are. You are my kind and loving child. My curious and wise child. My honest and brave child. You will show them. Now, go. Find the things you need—adventure, answers, purpose, love.” With those final words, she had kissed his cheek and turned away to hide her tears.

“Still looking, Mother,” Daniel sighed as he leaned forward on the stump and rested his elbows on his knees. He stared at the sand underneath his foot, so different from the rich soil in the many forests of Sylvania, his home. He loved the vast woods that covered his kingdom and the peaceful citizens who lived in their shade, but he knew that life held more for him than staring at trees. He nudged the toe of his boot into the sandy path and drew the outline of a crown, but then quickly scuffed it away. The sound of an approaching horse drew his attention to the horizon, where he saw James galloping toward him on his horse, Lillianne.

James sat high and handsome in the saddle, his blond hair flounc­ing about his ears with each gallop of the black horse. He wore a simple brown surcoat adorned with a forest green panel on the chest that displayed the acorns that were Daniel’s fam­ily sigil. The sword he wore strapped across his back bounced against his broad shoulders, and two pastel ribbons tied around his muscled upper arm fluttered behind him. The ribbons were tokens of devotion from ladies-in-waiting who had come to dote on James since puberty and constant battle training had turned his awkward, gangly frame into an ideal of manliness. Seeing James gallop toward him with the sunlight behind him, Daniel could understand why the girls had given him the ribbons and their hearts. If being raised together had not made Daniel see James as a brother, he might have been tempted to give a ribbon him­self. Daniel, of course, wore no ribbons, for the ladies had quickly discerned that they were of no interest to him.

“Your Highness,” James called out as he pulled the horse’s reins and skidded to a stop a few feet from Daniel. “My scouting was useful! I’ve found the answer!”

“James,” Daniel chided, as he stood and walked toward his knight, “I’ve told you for months now to just call me Daniel. Out here, I have no crown and I have no kingdom. Out here, we’re brothers of the road.”

“Sorry,” James said, as he dropped to the path. “Old habits, you know. And I know that someday things will go back to the way they were. You’ll sleep, and I’ll stand guard. You’ll rule a kingdom, and I’ll wage your battles. I can’t get in the habit of calling you brother when someday you’ll be ‘Your Highness’ again.”

“Well, that day doesn’t seem to be any closer now than when we set out. Don’t know if you noticed, but I’m still awake. Still alone. Still without a clue. Though I hope you know, no matter what the future holds, you will always be more brother to me than that pompous twit who is my blood brother.”

“Once he is king, he could have you thrown in a dungeon for saying that.”

“He’d have to get tired of hearing his own voice to notice I’d said it.”

“Your High… um, Daniel. You can’t give up hope. We’ve barely covered half the kingdoms of Clarameer.”