Chapter 9

I n the far reaches of the realm of Faery in the Eternal Court, Rowena spent the long days of the last eighteen years waiting for the Myst Kingdom to announce the death of the princess. And though the girl’s birthday was still a few days away, she was impatient to see to it the king and queen were properly punished for their slight.

While the other Court rulers return to their lives, Rowena harbored her ill feelings for King Stephan, letting them fester over time until they had almost consumed her. She thought about her curse every day since the day of the christening. Remembering the royals’ horror-stricken faces kept her warm at night.

She paced the confines of her cavernous great hall, waiting for her messenger to return with news. She had dispatched him days ago, watching as he sifted away from her court. All the while, she had thoughts of what to do if her plan did not succeed.

Her guard appeared in the great hall, clearing his throat to get her attention.

“Your majesty, he has returned,” he announced.

“Send him in at once.” She didn’t need an explanation as to who had returned.

The messenger, though, was already entering the hall before she finished. He was a young Fae who had the ability to sift through time and space. A strong Fae in which she had placed her faith.

“What news?” she asked, her hands clasped in front of her as she waited.

“First, I must tell you the royal rose garden was removed and all roses outlawed. No one is allowed to plant roses in any part of the kingdom,” he said. “As decreed by the king.”

Fury bloomed through her chest. “Indeed.”

She resumed her pacing, clasping her hands behind her back. King Stephan thought he was a clever man to decree such a thing.

“I saw no signs of roses anywhere,” the boy added.

“And the princess?”

“Her birthday is in a few days. They were planning a celebration followed by her wedding to the northern prince, Phillip. The princess, however, disappeared.”

This caught her attention. Pleasure at the news bloomed through her. So, her spell worked. Turning herself into a dragonfly was a risk but it appeared her coercion succeeded. The princess left home at her urging. She halted her pacing to face him.

“Disappeared?” she asked in her most innocent, surprised tone, though she already knew the truth of it.

“She left under the cover of darkness with a horse from the royal stable. No one knows where she went. No one saw her leave. The king and queen are quite worried about her.”

Rowena tapped her forefinger against her chin. “Interesting news indeed.”

“There is more,” he said.

“Pray continue.”

“The king and queen from Woodhaven arrived without the prince,” he said. “It was said he was to arrive a few days after them. He has yet to arrive.”

“No prince or princess. Where, then, have they gone?”

“The prince travels southward,” he said. “Toward the Mystwood Forest.”

She lifted one dark brow. “How do you know this?”

“I turned myself into a crow and tracked him.” He grinned, pleased with himself.

She, too, was pleased at the boy’s resourcefulness. “And the princess?”

“She rides northward. It appears, my queen, they have both deserted their titles and their kingdoms.”

“How very interesting,” she muttered. She looked the young man over. “Tell me, what is your name?”

“Ferrin, my queen.”

An idea rose and she finally had a way to get her revenge on King Stephan.

“Ferrin, you have done me a great service and shall be rewarded for your loyalty. I appoint you as one of my trusted advisors.”

He bowed low. “Thank you, your majesty.”

“Now, go. I will call upon you again when I have need of you.”

He backed out of the room to do her biding. Rowena, though, needed to find a way to bring the prince and princess together. She returned to her chamber, where she consulted the green orb she used only in the most desperate times. The orb was small enough to fit in the palm of her hand and rested on a rosewood pedestal when not in use. It was called the All-Seeing Eye. It used much of her power and made her weak.

She cupped her hands around it. “Show me the prince of Woodhaven,” she whispered.

It came alive a moment later with an image of the young prince riding south toward the forest.

“Show me the princess of Myst,” she said.

The image switched to the girl riding north to the forest.

A smile curled her lips. With her hands still cupped around the orb, she began the incantation.

“By the threads of fate and paths unknown, weave a spell to entwine these two hearts over distance shown. Let their spirits align, bring their souls together in connection forever entwined.”

Then she blew a breath into the orb, releasing the spell into their world. She dropped her hands and the orb went dark. Drained of her power and energy, she collapsed. But as things went dark for her, she smiled, triumphant.

Rosamund left the village behind, grateful for the help from Anne, and headed northward toward the forest. She wasn’t sure where she was headed. She only knew she had to put as much distance between her and home as possible.

By nightfall, she made it to the boundary of the Mystwood Forest, the trees standing like tall, shadowy sentries. She halted her horse and peered up at them, a bit of apprehension trickling through her. She had never traveled without an escort, much less entered a forest alone. Was she certain she wanted to continue?

Turning back wasn’t an option, though she did wonder how her parents were faring. Did they miss her? Worry about her? Wonder where she’d gone? Were they, even now, searching for her?

As she pondered all of this, something compelled her to continue into the forest. There was no explanation for it, but she had this overwhelming need to enter and find shelter for the night. She kept going.

The Mystwood Forest was so large, the border of the two kingdoms, Myst and Woodhaven, went through it. The northern edge was in Woodhaven, the southern in Myst. Thinking of the kingdom to the north made her think of Prince Phillip and her forced betrothal. She would decide in the morning which direction she would go, but it was not to be north into Woodhaven.

As she rode deeper into the forest, the shadows grew darker. Nocturnal creatures foraged in the underbrush while overhead, an owl hooted. She shifted in the saddle, straining her eyes to see into the darkness. For what, she didn’t know.

The trees thinned and beyond there was a dark cabin in the glen. She headed there, pushing her horse into a quick trot. Once she arrived, she stepped down and held onto the reins, peering at the cabin with darkened windows. No smoke curled from the chimney. It appeared to be abandoned.

She tied the reins to the porch handrail, then removed the wrapped food from the saddle bag. She took a tentative step, the wood creaking under her weight. It seemed to hold, so she ascended the other two steps and paused at the door. A quick knock and then silence.

Reaching for the knob, she pushed open the door. It groaned as if from nonuse. She poked her head inside. Darkness greeted her.

“Hello?”

No answer. She took that as a good sign and pushed the door open the rest of the way. In the shadows, she saw the outlines of furniture. Beyond the small living area was a kitchen, dark and unwelcoming. A staircase was to her left leading up to what she supposed was a loft.

She stood there a long moment, trying to decide what to do next. She hadn’t any way to light the lantern that hung by the door.

The faint sound of hooves caught her attention. She spun in the doorway and looked out, her heart beating a wild beat as she waited. Her breath pooled in her chest as she stared into the night wondering who was headed her way. Had her parents found her?

A lone rider came into view heading right for the cabin.

She stiffened and stepped back through the open door into the shadows. She dropped the wrapped food on a table in the small living area. Glancing around, she looked for a weapon. She found a poker by the fireplace and quickly dashed to it, taking up the iron bar and holding it aloft, ready to strike. The darkness concealed her as she stood still, watching and holding her breath.

The rider appeared to be a man. He halted his horse next to hers, peering at it and though she could not see his face, she assumed he was as confused as she. He dismounted, swinging his leg over the horse in a slow movement and dropped to the ground. He paused there, his hand on his hip, which she assumed was the hilt of his sword.

“Who’s there?” he called.

Her heart rammed like a war drum against her chest as she remained in place.

“I seek shelter for the night,” he called. “Nothing more.”

Rosamund held the poker so tight, her hands cramped.

The mystery man held up his hands in surrender. “I mean no harm.”

He sounded reasonable, but then, weren’t most murderers and highwayman reasonable?

“Go away,” she said. Her voice only shook a little.

He remained where he was. “I wish I could. I can’t explain it, but I was compelled to this place. As though something led me here.”

She stilled as she peered at him. She, too, was compelled to come here though she didn’t know why or how.

“Who are you?” she asked from her concealed position.

“A mere traveler. Passing through and seeking a place to rest for the night.” He paused, then, said, “Who are you?”

He sounded sincere. She relaxed her stance a bit but still held the makeshift weapon.

“How do I know I can trust you?” she demanded.

“How do I know I can trust you ?” he countered.

Fair question.

“I mean you no harm,” he continued. “I’ve been riding for a few days. I just want to rest.”

She certainly understood that. “I’ve been riding for a few days, too. I want to rest, too.”

“Then we understand each other.” He took a step up on the porch.

“Stay where you are,” she snapped, clutching the poker tighter.

He halted, his hands still held in surrender.

“Remove your weapon,” she demanded.

He removed his sword belt and dropped it on the porch at his feet. Then he removed a dagger at his waist and dropped it next to his sword.

“I’m unarmed, my lady. Does that make you feel better?” There was a smile in his voice.

“I’m not unarmed. How does that make you feel?” she said.

“Safe.”

Despite herself, she snickered. She dropped the poker to her side.

“Do you have matches?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said.

“Come in and light the lantern by the door. When I see your face, then I will decide if you can stay.”

He emitted a low chuckle. “As you say, my lady.”

He moved inside the door, his hand in his pocket. A moment later, she heard the strike of a match followed by the flare of the flame. His face was illuminated by the yellow-orange flickering fire. He lit the lantern hanging by the door, then removed it from the bracket and held it aloft close to his face, brightening his features.

Her breath caught as she got her first glimpse of him. As soon as their eyes met, something happened between them she could not explain. As though a silvery thread connected them, pulling them together in a way she did not understand. She felt drawn to him.

He was handsome. The light from the lantern glinted off gold strands of his dark hair. His face was chiseled to perfection with a strong jaw. She wasn’t sure of the color of his eyes. From what she could tell by the light, they were a rich honey color. He wore a cloak clasped at the throat with a silver pin. Beyond that, she couldn’t see much else about his clothes.

“Does my face please you, my lady?”

His jest would have been funny if it hadn’t been so close to the truth.

“You seem harmless enough,” she said at last.

“Do I?” He smirked.

“You’re a stranger to me,” she said.

“True. However, that can be remedied with a simple introduction.” Holding the lantern aloft, he asked, “What’s your name, my lady?”

A good question. She wasn’t prepared to give up her true identity. What if he were one of the castle guards in disguise? She wasn’t ready to return.

“Rose,” she said at last, shortening her name. No one had ever called her that.

“Well, Rose. It’s lovely to make your acquaintance.”

When he offered nothing more, she asked, “And you are?”

A smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “Edward, my lady. You may call me Edward.”