Continuation of The Watcher, my fantasy novel

Read Chapter one first

Chapter One

Chapter Two

“Anne, please try to keep up,” Adelaide called after the red head as she galloped her way across the courtyard. At the center of the palace, during the spring months, the winter mages would create an illusion that resembled an outside countryside. Horses were brought in from the stables and Adelaide was allowed to ride around the grass. Even though her surroundings were not real, Adelaide could feel the wind whipping through her hair. Freedom of any kind even superficial was appreciated.

Adelaide’s chestnut colored mare snorted and shook its mane impatiently as she tugged on the reins. Rosy-cheeked and flushed, the princess turned and waited for Anne’s grey pony to trot towards them. Anne’s skin looked slightly green and she waivered unsteadily on her horse. Her white knuckles were clenched tightly around the horse’s leather bridle. Adelaide dismounted and helped the poor girl down.

“Are you alright?” she asked as Anne sat down on the grass, one of the servant’s hands holding onto her own head.

Anne shuddered, “I should know better than to ride around. Just seasick.”

Adelaide nodded and went over to the pack that was seated on her horse’s back. Anne and Adelaide, after their rides, always would have a picnic. The princess located a water pitcher and a cloth napkin. She handed both to Anne, who with a grateful smile, patted her brow. This happened every time they went for a ride and for those few minutes the two girls would switch roles of princess and servant.

Adelaide, resigned that the ride was over, took out the rest of their picnic items and set up the blanket and food on the ground. She looked up into the glaring sun, shielding her eyes from the piercing rays. The heat was causing beads of sweat to form across the back of her neck. It would be nice to have some shade though, she thought. Moments later, the ground rumbled. Adelaide was knocked down from the force of the earthquake.

Cracks appeared in the soil, the grass fading in and out from blades to the stone floor beneath the illusion. Sprouting out of the sharp divots grew Six tremendous oak trees. Anne opened her mouth in awe. Even Adelaide was surprised. Must be a new part of the winter mage’s magic, whatever you want appears, she said to herself, but she felt doubt filling her every thought. The trees looked more real than the enchanted grass and the majicked sky and Adelaide ran her hand along the bark of one tree. It was rough and she yelped in surprise as a sharp pain pricked her finger.

“Ow,” she cried, looking down at her hand. A brown sliver of wood was lodged into the skin on her pinky.

“That’s strange,” Anne muttered under her breath.

Adelaide turned sharply, “It’s nothing.”

Anne nodded, staring back down at the forest floor. Adelaide began unpacking their basket, but when she looked down, her hands were shaking. The trees are real, they have to be, she thought, her pinky throbbing in agreement. Attempting to wipe the incident from her memory, Adelaide leaned her backs against the tree and ate her sandwich. Now was one of the few moments that the two could talk in private.

“What have you been hearing about my stepmother?” Adelaide asked between bites of her sandwich.

Anne swallowed before replying, “Something has been cooking lately with her majesty, because everyone is being very secretive lately. I haven’t seen my friend Mary who is the queen’s housekeeper for days.”

“What do you think the ice queen is thinking of this time?” Adelaide said, looking over at her companion. Anne’s eyes widened at Adelaide’s disrespectful reference but the princess just laughed. “It’s what she is,” she said gently.

Anne let out a little giggle and then answered her question, “Well rumors have been going around,” she said slowly.

“Like what?” Adelaide pressed.

Anne hesitated. She looked around to make sure they were alone before whispering, “Like a possible plot against the king” she paused. Adelaide urged her on. “And you,” she finished. “I’ve got no other information, no particulars on that. But there is…” Anne trailed off, looking past the trees. From between the oaks Adelaide could make out a tiny speck coming towards them. As it grew larger, Adelaide saw that it was a rider on a black horse. He was coming their way at an alarming pace.

“I’ll tell you later,” Anne whispered, jumping to her feet. Adelaide nodded, smoothing her worried face back into its expressionless mask. The rider stopped by the trees. A puzzled expression crinkled his brow as he stared at the oaks. Shaking his head, he turned back to his task. Adelaide recognized him, Francois, the queen’s butler.

“Your presence is requested in the throne room immediately. Everyone’s waiting for you, your majesty.” I can’t believe I forgot about the presentations, Adelaide scolded herself.

She nodded, “Francois, you can clean up our picnic. Anne will come with me to the presentations.” Anne looked startled but both servants bowed in submission.

Anne could not ride her pony without fainting so instead she clung to Adelaide’s waist as the princess pushed her mare into a full gallop. Instead of dismounting outside the entrance to the courtyard where a winter mage was being questioned by an intimidating guard about the trees that had grown out of the stone castle floor, Adelaide pushed through the throng of onlookers and rode her horse down the corridor. Her heart beat faster as she heard the gatherers marveling at the oaks. I had nothing to do with that, she assured herself, spurring her mare onward. Outside the throne room, she reined the mare to a complete stop. She handed the leather straps to a startled door guard who then helped both girls dismount. Adelaide ran her fingers quickly through her hair, took a deep breath, and pushed open the door. Anne shuffled into the room behind her.

The scene before her was dazzling. Three golden thrones sat on top of a platform. A long red carpet led up to the stage. Four guards, dressed in royal blue tunics and holding well oiled bayonets, stood at a pair of double doors are the end of the rug. Adelaide turned to make her way over to her seat when she stopped, surprised, in mid-stride.

The queen as usual sat at the center throne. Since the king was too ill to be present, his throne was unoccupied. However, a new chair had been placed on the queen’s left. A small girl identical in height and build to Adelaide sat perched on the blue cushion. Her red dress fanned out around her waist and her red khol rimmed eyes followed Adelaide’s every move as the princess regained her composure and took her seat on her gold encrusted throne. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Anne shoot her a meaningful look that almost said, that’s what I was about to tell you, before taking her place behind Adelaide’s throne.

“You’re late Adelaide,” the queen said sternly. Adelaide bowed her head and the queen waved her hand, signaling the guards to open the doors. Slowly, cautiously, with their heads bent low, a stream of peasants entered the room. The first to approach the platform was a young women, a basket of corn in own hand and the small hand of a runny-nosed toddler in the other.

She knelt on her knees, presenting the basket to the page and saying to the queen, “Here are the taxes I owe. The crop wasn’t good this year but I hope tis good for your table.”

The queen stared at the woman’s child, disgust curling her deep red lips, “The corn isn’t for us. It’s for the pigs.”

The young woman looked hurt, but gathering her daughter up in her arms, she bowed her head saying, “Yes, your majesty.” Adelaide’s heart ached for the young woman as a small tear ran down the peasant girl’s dirty cheek. Ever since her stepmother had taken over the rule, the poor had become poorer, their huts becoming shabbier and more dilapidated as time went on. Her father would have at least sent the woman off with a few warm blankets and a bag of grain instead of injured dignity and a broken heart.

The presentations continued in a similar fashion. Adelaide became more angry and disheartened as more hurtful words spewed from the queen’s mouth. Halfway through the ceremony a young man, about Adelaide’s age stepped forward. He was tall and he did not stoop in submission as the others around him did. Adelaide couldn’t help but admire his tan face, muscular build, and handsome features. He was carrying a crate full of clay pots and before he began his address he looked straight at Adelaide. His face broke into a wide smile and staring into her steely eyes, he winked . Adelaide’s heart skipped a beat. She lowered her eyes, a blush creeping across her pale cheeks. He can’t be from here, she thought, it’s against palace custom. Just as the thought past through her mind, she heard the queen snap her fingers.

“Guards, take this man away. He must be punished for his insolence.”

“But I didn’t do anything,” he protested as the guards began dragging him towards the door. Embarrassed, Adelaide turned to see the girls in the red dress smiling smugly. As if she detected that Adelaide was looking in her direction, she met Adelaide’s gaze with two cool, piercing black eyes. The maliciousness that emanated from the girl’s pupils made Adelaide shudder involuntarily. The girl then rose and whispered something into the queen’s ear. Adelaide’s stepmother nodded and without another word, the girl exited the room, her silk dress rustling with her every step.

The presentations resumed and Adelaide constantly found her mind wandering back to the handsome boy. She couldn’t help blushing as she thought of him. After the ceremony is over, I must go down to the dungeons and beg for his release, she decided. At long last the presentations dwindled until the last peasant left the room, the guards closing the double doors behind him. Adelaide rose and taking Anne with her, excused both from the room. She noticed as she walked past the thrones that the girl had not returned.

“Where are we going?” Anne asked, running to keep up with the princess’s quick stride.

“The dungeon. I must ask for that poor boy’s forgiveness. I hope they haven’t done anything terrible to him.”

Anne nodded and the two girls hurried down the spiral staircase. As the two traveled deeper into the ground, the air became cold and damp. Adelaide blew on her hands to keep them warm and she could see that Anne was shivering under her white frock. Finally, they reached a black metal door at the end of a long moss infested hallway.

“You stand guard out here. Tell me if anyone’s coming,” Adelaide instructed Anne in a sharp whisper. Anne nodded and waited by the door.

Adelaide pushed on the handle. Surprisingly, the door opened silently; the guards seemed to have forgotten to lock it. A dungeon is never something you should forget to lock, she thought to herself as she slipped through the opening, closing the door behind her. A horrible scent of rotting flesh filled her nose and she covered her mouth with her hand. The hall was dimly lit, a sputtering torchlight illuminating the end of the corridor. The jail cells, made up of spike-covered metal bars, to her right were barren, not a prisoner in sight. A prisoner that is alive, she added, walking down the stone tunnel.

She turned the corner where the light was issuing from and froze. Standing in front of her, a smirk pasted on her narrow face was the girl in the red dress. She was holding a chain of rusted keys in her hand and she calmly looked the princess up and down.

“Coming to free the prisoner?” she asked.

“N-no,” Adelaide stuttered, but the girl raised her eyebrows and just laughed.

“You don’t have to lie to me. We’re like sisters, almost. And I took care of the boy,” she paused and dread filled Adelaide stomach. The girl enjoyed holding her knowledge over Adelaide for a moment and then continued, “Don’t worry. I didn’t hurt him. He was released before you even set a foot outside the throne room. His impudence banns him from ever coming into Magnifica again. Pity. Poor, dim-witted, Borderland folk, you know.” The girl twirled the keys around her index finger, a wistful expressing crossing her face.

Curiosity quelled the chills that now ran down Adelaide’s spin and she said, “You said before, that we’re like sisters. Not meaning to be rude but I’ve never seen you before. Who are you?”

“Oh forgive my ill manners,” the girl said, curtsying deeply, “I’m Lena Stydcriste, the queen’s nephew. My parents are touring Upper Ground and decided that I should be exposed to court life. I’ll be staying for awhile. I may even be present at your wedding.”At the last word, Lena’s face twisted into an arrogant smile.

Unnerved, Adelaide managed to regain her composure, “Yes, well that would be lovely.”

Lena ignored her comment, tracing a key with a perfectly manicured nail, “Your servant is getting nervous. I suggest you leave. Dungeons, and darkness in general,” she said, looking at the flickering torch, “are not for the faint of heart.” Her words sounded like an order, not a suggestion. Adelaide nodded. With a slight bow, she turned on her heel and rejoined Anne.

“Oh, thank goodness you’re back,” the redhead sputtered, “You were in there so long that I had almost made up my mind to come and fetch you. What happened?” Adelaide related her story and Anne fell silent for a few moments.

“Lena Stydcriste,” she said finally. “That name has been travelling around the servant’s quarters for some time now. Everyone’s scared of her. She’s a downright oddity and she has little or no respect of rank. Some even say that the queen is her puppet. But those are just rumors. No one should put their faith in those.”

Adelaide wanted to believe her last line but she knew she couldn’t. Servant’s rumors always had a habit of being completely accurate and dread seeped into her heart as they traversed the hall. As the two climbed up to her tower, Adelaide felt emotions churning in her stomach. Anger, hate, embarrassment, and fear crossed repeatedly through her mind. Lena’s mocking face surfaced in front of her eyes. She had called Adelaide a coward, insulted her without a hint of fear in her voice about the repercussions. That was what had scared Adelaide the most, the girl’s tone. Adelaide entered her room seething. She felt as though she was carrying an increasingly heavy burden. She sat down holding her head in her hands.

Vaguely she thought she heard Anne ask if she was okay. She wasn’t even sure if she had replied to her servant’s question. Suddenly she felt something inside her explode, the pressure on her head released. She heard Anne scream, and turned in horror in the directions of the sound. Her vision, which before was cloudy and blurry with pain now cleared and in horror she saw that the tapestry near her bed was on fire. Anne ran to fetch water as Adelaide stared at the burning cloth. She was rooted in her spot, feeling as though the more anger she released the larger the fire grew. Anne came running back in, throwing water onto the tapestry. At first the fire seemed to not be phased by the water but Anne kept pouring the liquid onto the flames. The fire flickered, struggling valiantly to relight itself, but failed, sputtering out. Smoke and the smell of charred thread filled the room.

Anne opened the windows and turned to the princess, soot smudged across her forehead, “I believe we both have had enough accidents for one day, don’t you princess?” She was pleading.

Adelaide stared at the smoking, black, tapestry. She felt dizzy yet something close to happiness bubbled in her stomach. Turning to Anne with a smile she said, “I couldn’t agree more.”

Adelaide turned to study the tapestry as Anne went off to prepare baths for both of them. The picture had been one that the queen had installed in her room shortly after her marriage to Adelaide’s father had taken place. The tapestry had been a portrait sewn by Martha of Adelaide, her father, and the queen. The fire had burned the entire body and face of the queen, making her unrecognizable while Adelaide’s smiling face and her father’s stern stare hadn’t been touched. Adelaide felt her smile widen, feeling something in her admit to the deed. At least I have good aim, she thought, turning from the tapestry to take her bath.