Chapter 19

B y nightfall, Phillip had helped Rosamund hobble from the fallen log so she could be closer to the fire. The cool night air was beginning to set in and chill her. Charles produced an extra bedroll from his saddle bag and laid it out for her. Jeffrey had a feast of bread, cheese, dried fruit, and oatcakes which he shared with all of them. Despite their initial unfortunate meeting, she was beginning to like the two men.

Phillip, Jeffrey, and Charles were at ease with each other. It was apparent to her Phillip was lifelong friends with Jeffrey. There was a sense of familiarity and comradery between them. Charles continued to sneak glances at her and then quickly look away when she noticed. And she noticed a lot.

It was endearing.

He was young with a shy smile and attentive to her needs. Since she was virtually immobile due to her sore ankle, he made sure she had enough to eat. He even had a flask of water which he shared with her. When she shivered from a cool breeze, he made sure she had her cloak.

Meanwhile, Phillip told them both of meeting the old woman in the strange cabin and how it morphed into a dilapidated building when they awoke the next morning.

He and Jeffrey were interested in the map and examined it closely, with Jeffrey scrutinizing it as though it were the most important document in the history of documents.

“I didn’t know this cave existed,” Jeffrey said, tapping the map with his forefinger.

“Nor did I,” Phillip agreed, munching on an oatcake. “And yet we saw with our own eyes the dragon flying overhead.”

“Do you think the treasure is really there?” Charles broke a piece of bread in half and popped a bit in his mouth.

“The old woman said it was,” Phillip replied.

“But can we trust her after what we saw at the cabin?” Rosamund asked.

“She has a point,” Jeffrey said. “Especially since the cabin you stayed in was clearly an illusion.”

“Well, there’s only one way to find out.” Phillip glanced at her, a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

She recognized it immediately. “You think we should go after it, don’t you?”

“Why not?” Phillip said.

“Because it’s madness,” Jeffrey pointed out. “And could be nothing but a wild goose chase.”

Charles, who was silent for most of the conversation, finally said, “Why would the old woman want you two at the dragon’s cave, though?”

Silence descended on their small camp. Rosamund glanced from Charles to Phillip who pressed his lips together as he considered the question.

“Why, indeed, is a good question, brother,” Jeffrey said. He looked to Phillip. “What is this old woman’s interest in the two of you?”

Phillip shrugged. “I haven’t any idea.”

“Unless she’s an evil faery,” Rosamund put in.

All of them turned to her. Phillip’s eyes widened a bit. She would have missed it if she hadn’t been looking at him. Jeffrey’s brows rose in question.

“An evil faery? Phillip, have you been telling tales again?” Jeffrey didn’t bother to hide the smirk on his face as he reached for another oatcake.

“Take it easy on those,” Charles snapped. “We have to ration.”

Jeffrey frowned at his brother as he began gathering the food and wrapping it up once again.

Before Phillip could answer, Rosamund said, “He told me of an evil faery who placed a curse on a baby girl. That she would prick her finger on a thorn and fall into a forever sleep.”

Again, they all stared at her as if she were something of an enigma. Jeffrey swallowed the oatcake he’d been eating. Phillip paced the small camp. Charles busied himself with putting the food away into the saddle bags.

“What?” she asked. “Did I say something wrong?”

“You told her that story, did you?” Jeffrey said, looking at Phillip.

Phillip remained devoid of expression as he continued to pace the confines of the camp. “She doesn’t know everything.”

Confusion flickered through her followed by irritation. “What does that mean?”

“I think you should tell her the truth.” Jeffrey brushed crumbs from his hands and gave his friend a pointed look.

“She didn’t even know we were betrothed until recently,” Phillip said.

“That does pose a problem,” Jeffrey replied.

“Would you please stop talking about me as if I weren’t here,” Rosamund snapped, her ire rising.

Phillip halted, his apprehensive gaze landing on her. Something about that look sent alarm jingling through her, setting her nerves on a raw edge. Her gut clenched, twisted into a tight knot.

“Well?” she demanded.

“Tell her, Phillip. She deserves to know.”

After a moment of indecision, Phillip at last nodded. Then he moved to sit next to her, turning to her.

“When I was six years old, my parents and I traveled to Myst Hall to witness the christening of the young princess. You,” he said. “You and I were betrothed in an agreement between our fathers to broker a strong alliance because your father, King Stephan, feared Faery, the neighboring kingdom, intended to invade and increase their borders.”

Hot pinpricks of fear skittered through her. She didn’t like where this was going.

“Your father invited the Fae royals from Faery to the christening as a show of good faith. It was in the hopes they would not invade Stonebridge and leave us be. The royals from four of the Faery Courts arrived in grand fashion. They bestowed upon you faery gifts.”

Her brows drew together. “What sort of gifts?”

“Gifts of Fae magic,” he said. “One gave you the gift of beauty, charm, and grace. Another strength and bravery. However, your father forgot to invite one of the royals. The queen of the Eternal Court, Queen Rowena,” he continued.

Impatience bubbled through her. “What does this have to do with a curse and an evil faery?”

“I’m getting to that,” Phillip said, trying to temper her irritation.

By now, Charles joined them in the small circle. He sat on the ground next to his brother. Firelight flickered over his face. Both of them listened to the story as Phillip continued.

“Queen Rowena was so angry she was forgotten she bestowed her gift upon you.”

“And what gift was that?” she asked.

“Before the sun sets on your eighteenth birthday, you will prick your finger on the thorn of a rose and die.”

The blood drained from her head in a whoosh so fast, she saw black pinpricks dancing in her vision. She looked away from him, peering down at her clasped fingers in her lap. Her heart raced as a dizziness swept over her. And suddenly, she understood why there were no roses in the castle gardens and why her father was adamant there never would be. He was trying to protect her from pricking her finger on a thorn. As the lightheadedness enveloped her, a wave of panic washed over her. She pitched forward, her head in her hands. If she were able to walk, she would have stormed off. As it was, she had to remain in place.

“I think you better finish the story, Phillip,” Jeffrey said.

“Finish the story?” Her words were muffled against her hands.

“There was one Fae royal who had not given you her gift,” he said, quickly. “She changed the curse to make you fall into a deep sleep, rather than die.”

She lifted her head, pinned him with her fiery gaze. “Because that’s so much better.”

“Rose—”

“I said don’t call me that. No one calls me that. Not even my mother,” she snapped. “My birthday is the day after tomorrow.”

“I know,” he said.

“It is?” Jeffrey asked, surprise etching his words.

“And I intend to protect you,” Phillip said, ignoring Jeffrey.

“From pricking my finger on a thorn?” She almost laughed. “How do you intend to do that, oh gallant prince?”

Jeffrey and Charles both laughed. Phillip glowered at them.

To Rosamund, he said, “I intend to keep you safe however I must.”

“That’s very sweet of you, but I don’t need your protection.” She gave a pointed look to Jeffrey and Charles. “Or anyone’s.”

“Rose—”

“I said stop calling me that!”

“I think she means it,” Jeffrey said.

“You stay out of this,” Phillip growled.

Jeffrey held his hands up as if in surrender.

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?” she demanded. “My parents told me none of this.”

Deep down, she knew it was the truth, but she couldn’t help but challenge Phillip’s story.

“They also didn’t tell you that we were betrothed until a few days ago,” he pointed out.

And she hated that he knew that. She stared down at her hands, her fingers clamped together to keep them from shaking with her rage, her fear, her shock.

“I tell you true, princess,” he said, his voice soft. “There is no reason for me to lie.”

He was right, of course, but the truth still stung.

“Why didn’t you tell me all this before? When you told me of the evil faery?”

“I don’t know,” he said and he sounded as though he meant it. “I guess because I was afraid you wouldn’t believe me.”

All of this was a lot to take. That he was Prince Phillip, hiding from his true identity like she was. That she was cursed to prick her finger on a thorn and fall into a deep sleep. That there was an evil faery somewhere out there that hated an innocent child that much to curse her. Just to spite her father.

“I should have told you sooner,” he added.

“It’s all right,” she said but she wasn’t sure it was all right. “I understand why you did it.”

“I think we should head back to Myst Hall in the morning.”

A stabbing pain of horror went through her. She refused to look at him as hot tears burned the backs of her eyes. Though she didn’t want to, she nodded agreement.

“I agree,” she said, her voice weak. She scooted down into the bedroll and pulled her cloak over her. “Now, I’d like to go to sleep.”

There was a long moment of silence, then Phillip said, “Good night, princess.”