Part II


“Darcey…Darcey. Darcey! Darling, it’s time to wake up. Honey, wake up. Darcey!” Her mother, Thessilia, leaned over the huge king sized bed that had been empty for the past fifteen years. Thessilia was trying to be gentle, but her patience was wearing thin. Ever the difficult riser, Darcey thought that as a princess, she’d be allowed to sleep in once in a while. Evidently she was wrong, as her mother had resorted to ripping open the thin golden sheers and casting aside the glass doors onto her massive white marble patio. She then proceeded to walk back to the bed and rip off all of the sheets, forcing her daughter out of her warm cocoon in to the fresh, salty morning air.
“Mom,” she groaned. “You’re such a…mom. I’ve been a princess for a day. Can I please sleep?” Mumbling something else about jet lag, she sunk back onto the feather mattress and was just about to fall asleep when a loud cry sprinted down her spine and made her jump out of bed and onto the warm marble floor, long curly hair everywhere.
“What on earth was that?” Darcey screeched, her chest pounding. She looked around to see who was being murdered while her mother burst into a fit of laugher. “That lovely racket came from Tsunami, one of our parrots.” At the mention of his name, a bright green and blue parrot flew through the open doors, landing on Thessilia’s shoulder.
“Uh huh. So, Mom…what are we doing today? Opening some new store, christening a cargo ship, attending a garden party?” Half sarcastic, half genuine, Darcey threw on a dress she had found in her baseball-diamond sized closet the night before. “And what is this kind of clothing called? I look like a hula dancer!”
Laughing, her mother grabbed her wrist and handed her a golden headband engraved with her full name across the front, and a necklace with a golden doe carved on it. “These are yours. Everyone has one, in different forms. This will help people know who you are and what you are like. Never lose these. Even when you wear this crown, you will need to keep that headband showing.”
Darcey tucked her long hair behind her ears and slipped on the headband, surprised about how well it fit and how well it kept her wild hair at bay. “This is beautiful! Oh, Mom, is this dress supposed to be like this? I mean, I’m allowed to go out in this right?” The skirt fell to just above her knees, and the bikini top did very little to cover her back or stomach. But then, the girls and women in the city wore this, and her mother had one on just like it.
“Oh, yes. That’s the only way to stay cool around here, honey. You should see your father in his favorite outfit. Little more than board shorts, really. Silly man, he insists on a morning surf before he even enters the throne room. He’s tried to drag me along, but I refuse to unless Dawson is there with us.” Thessilia laughed, her hands on her hips.
“Who is…” Darcey began. “Dawson?”
“Andrew Dawson is one of the best surfers in the world. He came to try out our waves a few years back, and liked them so much that he stayed. He lives in a rather elaborate hut on our private beach. He’s our surf instructor. If you don’t know how to surf, he’ll teach you.” Her mother smiled gently. There was so much she needed to learn. Crest reading, horseback riding, surfing, history, and there was sure to be etiquette lessons. When was she going to have time for her friends?
It was nearly eleven in the morning when the two women had finally meandered down to the quiet breakfast parlor. Much less grand than the formal dining hall, this was just for family and close friends, as was evident by the presence of the Dosciers and the Palmas. Darcey glanced happily at Will, who was beaming back at her. Mary Ann was ecstatic sitting between her parents, both of which were exactly as Hulio described them.
“Count and Countess Doscier, what a pleasure it is to see you again! And of course the Palmas again, but we dine with you every day.” Darcey’s father smiled, grabbing Will’s dad and crushing him in a characteristic bear hug. Darcey grinned, enjoying the scene.
“Now, eat up you three. It is your first day home, and we are going to let you just run free for a while. Just be careful! And don’t forget, you have dance lessons at four,” Darcey’s mother smiled, clearly wanting to stay with her daughter but willing to let her go. “Really? Awesome! Mary Ann, Will, let’s go! I’ve got a perfect idea.” Darcey gulped down her breakfast, not acknowledging the memo about the dance lessons. She grabbed Mary Ann and Will, dragging them out of the small parlor where they met a palace worker.
“Excuse me, can you tell us how to get to the beach where Andrew Dawson lives?” Darcey said, excitedly. “Of course, Princess,” the man bowed. “Just follow the stairs down there and you will reach the rear gardens. Keep on the path until you come to a fork, and then turn right. Stay on that path. You will go down several long stretches of stairs. They end after a while, and you will walk down a slight slope that leads directly to the west side of the beach. Mr. Dawson lives on the east side, tucked against the cliff. He should be there, he doesn’t head out onto the water until noon.” With that, the servant bowed and continued on his way, carrying a tray of fresh fruits. Darcey snagged three oranges for them and ran to the top of the stairs.
“Darcey, where are we going?” Mary Ann asked cautiously. “Nowhere dangerous, I hope? Mom and Dad would kill you if I came home without a limb.” Darcey laughed. “It’s a surprise! Trust me, you’ll like it.”
The trio made their way through the wildlife park that was essentially the palace’s backyard and down a mountain of stone steps. After what seemed like an eternity of walking down, the stairs ended into a gentle slope which, as promised, led to a private white sand beach walled in on three sides by high blue cliffs. They were on the west side. The path had ceased being marble after the steps ended, and they were now walking on a slope carved out of the cliff face itself. Darcey could see several hundred yards away what looked like an elaborate three story tent with colorful surf boards stacked neatly outside the tied back entrance.
“Are we going…surfing?” Will asked incredulously. His eyes widened on the surf, which crashed onto the beach in waves topping twenty feet.
“Yeah! Mom said that Dad surfs here every morning. Apparently we will be able to take lessons from this guy, Andrew Dawson. He’s one of the best surfers in the world.” Darcey ran across the beach, her skirt blowing back in the cool ocean breeze. She stopped only a few feet from the open tent flap, her hair flipping forward over her shoulders and around her tiara. Taking a tentative step forward, Darcey called into the tent, “Mr. Dawson? Andrew Dawson, are you in there? I, I mean we, would like to talk to you.”
The beach was silent for a few moments as the waves crashed against the cliffs. It was only until Darcey felt like turning back did Dawson answer. “Yeah, yeah, I’m over here. You are you, and what do you want –” Dawson cut off, staring at Darcey’s tiara. He suddenly threw himself on the ground in front of her feet, muttering things only he could hear. He risked a glance up and saw Will and Mary Ann coming up behind Darcey, and his eyes went wide. “My Princess, I did not mean…Master William, Mistress Mary Ann, I had no idea you were home…”
“Dawson, we just wanted to see if you would teach us to surf. My father insists that you are the best surfer on the island,” Darcey laughed. Will looked terror struck, Mary Ann was almost panicking. Darcey, on the other hand, was almost bouncing out of her skin, she was so excited.
“Princess, of…of course! I would be honored to teach you to surf the waves that your island is so blessed with. I will lend you boards for now, and will make you three your own boards.” Dawson straightened, clearly happier to be back in his element.
“Excellent. But before we start, I must tell you that I prefer being called Darcey. Please only use ‘Princess’ when I am in the palace.”
“Yes, my prin – Darcey. Here, these three are superior to the rest. We will first begin by teaching you how to stay afloat in the water. Come, come,” Dawson handed the teens three colorful surf boards and led them into the shallow water away from the monster waves. Darcey tore off her skirt, under which she was wearing a brightly colored bikini bottom to match the top. A tip her mother had given her.
The afternoon passed by peacefully as the three friends learnt how to stand on their boards and about how to properly care for their boards. By three in the afternoon, they could sail in to shore on little four foot waves, immensely proud of themselves.
“Well, that was good for a first try. I’ll have your custom boards just about ready in a few weeks or so,” Dawson said, yawning. “Now, if you will please excuse me, I need to get in my own session before the waves leave.” Without a parting glance, he turned on his heel and paddled himself way out where the big waves grew. Darcey, Will, and Mary Ann stared at him for half an hour until he stopped in mid-paddle, turned his head, and glared at them. The signal was clear: get off my beach.
As they made their tired way back up the mountain of stairs, Darcey couldn’t help but thinking how awesome her new life was turning out to be. She was learning to surf, she would be learning to ride horses, and she was a princess! How much more could she want out of life? They took almost an hour to get back to the palace. Tired and aching, they sat down in the same cozy breakfast parlor to have their dinner. The Dosciers and the Palmas left soon after, leaving Darcey to go to bed, which she did quickly.

One month later, the trio had learnt to conquer the big waves, pulling stunts almost as advanced as Dawson’s. He had stopped complaining about their staying past three, and actually invited them to surf with him during his private sessions.
They usually stayed, the only exceptions being when Will and Mary Ann’s parents had arranged the family meetings for which they were so famous. It was during one of these shrunken sessions that Dawson gave Darcey her new board. It was reminiscent of the green patterned bikini that she so frequently wore while surfing. At the top was a tribal symbol which he explained to her to be a doe. On the bottom was a large carving that spelled out her name in cursive. The whole of it was painted shades of green in a tropical pattern with bright swirls of purple, orange, red, yellow and blue. A fresh coat of wax made it shimmer in the afternoon light.
“Can I…try it out?” Darcey asked tentatively.
“No, better get it home. It’s getting late, and the waves aren’t as good. Come back here tomorrow with Will and Mary Ann and we’ll see.” Dawson shrugged and walked back into his hut without another word.
Happily Darcey grabbed her new surf board and headed up the mountainous stone stairs, looking forward to tomorrow. She had gotten used to the three mile hike, and could do it now in less than twenty minutes. Hindered now by the bulk of the surf board, it took her more than half an hour, but she still made good time. Maybe her father would agree to come tomorrow.
Darcey had just stashed away her new board in her room when her mother followed by an army of servants came rampaging into her stadium sized bedroom.
“Darcey Thessilia Love, where have you been?” Her mother’s shriek met Darcey’s ears with all of the pleasantness of a cold bucket of ice water dumped down one’s back. “I’ve been surfing, Mom. Like I do every day. Why?”
“Why? Why! We’ve got the royal families and governors of the twenty surrounding islands coming to dinner tonight, plus our own nobility! You’ve been surfing while we’ve been running around like madmen trying to find you! So, how was your lesson?” Just as quickly as the anger arose, it died again. Darcey stood still before replying: “Oh, it was good. Dawson finished my surf board. Do you think Dad could come down and surf with me tomorrow?”
“Oh honey, this isn’t a very good time. We’re still dealing with letters from General Thane on Obweji, and most of the guests will need to stay overnight. No, I don’t think he’ll be able to come. Neither will you, come to think of it. You’re needed here,” her mother beckoned to a girl holding a more elaborate maroon and gold version of the green skirt and top that Darcey had been favoring. This one featured a prominent golden crown surrounded by clusters of diamonds and rubies.
“Now get ready, love. Tania here will assist you. Tania, if you will…” her mother nodded towards the girl with the dress and left.
“Princess, if you will only come into your bathroom, we’ll have you fixed up in no time.” Tania took her hand and led her into Darcey’s mammoth bathroom and plunked her into a bathtub the approximate size of a swimming pool. The hot water felt both refreshing and suffocating; it was nearly thirty degrees outside as it was.
Two relaxing hours later, the fleet of servants were anxiously combing and arranging her hair in complex twists and curls, overseeing to her dress, or just generally milling about in a panic. Darcey was poked and prodded the entire time, wondering when she would be free to go.
Hours passed as Darcey was groomed to perfection. The servants had dissipated about an hour ago, leaving only Tania and three others whose names she did not know. Her new dress, a kind of island formal, had a similar bikini top to her casual outfit, but this one had braids woven with golden thread that strung around her neck before meeting in a gold ring in the middle. The skirt parted up to her knees, but swept behind her on the ground, with a considerable train.
The dark red silk wrapped around her feet as new golden heeled sandals were presented to her. The matching silk soles were soft to her feet. Dozens of small golden bracelets were slipped over her feet and hands, clanking together in a kind of chorus. Her dark hair was raised in a dramatic pompadour above her forehead, but fell to below her waist in grand curlicues. A short series of twists had procured a thin braid behind each ear that fell over her shoulders and almost reached her hips.
Her mother came in just as Darcey-the-princess was being finished. Thessilia appraised her daughter from afar. Darcey walked up to her, smiling. Tania walked up to her queen and presented the golden crown-like tiara that Darcey was to wear. Thessilia carefully picked it up and placed it just in front of her daughter’s pompadour, on top of the gold band with her name on it.
“Tonight, people will know who you are. Come, my child, it is time for you to be seated.” Her mother took her hand and led her out of her room. The walk to the massive dining room and adjacent grand ballroom had never felt so short. It seemed that mere seconds passed before she entered with her mother at her side and took her place at her father’s left hand.
Everyone had arrived already, include Will and Mary Ann and their families. The gentlemen all stood while Darcey and her mother were seated, and sat themselves after the women had tucked their silk napkins on their laps. Will sat next to Darcey, with Mary Ann on his other side. Darcey glanced at her father, knowing that this arrangement must have been his doing.
Dinner was a rather loud affair. Everyone was trying to talk to each other, to their hosts, and to the returning nobility at the same time. The effect was a rather boisterous gaggle of confused banter, wherein only one word in ten was distinguishable. There were too many people to remember, but each insisted on making some sort of impression on Darcey.
It was nearly ten o’clock when dinner finally broke and the hordes of guests made their way to the baseball-field sized ballroom. Miguel and Thessilia began the dancing by sharing a waltz. Soon the Dosciers and Palmas joined them, followed by the royalty and nobility of their neighboring islands. Only their children remained still. There were a handful of teens still wandering around aimlessly.
Will had asked Mary Ann to dance on request of his parents, leaving Darcey without her allies. She saw the daughters of other kings and queens head to the floor with sons of counts and lords, one of which was Dante. Eventually this whittled the number of potential partners to just two: Darcey, and an unknown boy standing alone behind a massive white marble column.
Darcey was naturally curious, a characteristic she recently learned to be related to her birth animal, the doe. She skirted the massive ballroom dodging in and out of the columns until she came to the one where her mystery guest was hiding behind. He had started to move away. Determined, Darcey jumped around the pillar and cornered him.
He took a step back, surprised. His face was hidden in the shadows, but his strong shoulders were visible underneath his deep purple tunic. Ever the doe, Darcey quietly asked him: “Step into the light…”
The mystery boy obeyed. Slowly his face was revealed to possess a strong jaw, upturned lips, a straight nose, high cheek bones, and the blackest of black eyes flecked with purple shards. He had thick black eyelashes and arched black eyebrows. His tanned forehead ended with remarkably messy black hair which did not at all match the rest of his neat and orderly appearance.
Darcey stared at him, willing him to talk. He met her eyes but refused any other kind of acknowledgement. An uncharacteristic flare of proud anger made her shoot out her hand and grab his muscled upper arm, dragging him father out of his corner. His gaze slid off of her and began roaming the ballroom, a distinctly bored look on his face. For one reason or another it infuriated her.
“Just who do you think you are?” Darcey demanded, a strained politeness in her voice. When she received no reply, she hissed: “Answer me! I am Princess Martinaque, and I demand to know your identity.” Her voice took on a haughty quality, one she had never possessed. It was also the first time she had used her full title, and it had an ironic quality about it to her.
He sighed and reluctantly replied, “Sanchez. Hadrian Sanchez.”
A silence had overcome them both. Darcey had seemingly lost her voice, Hadrian refused to use his. This kept up until the end of the waltz when Darcey saw her parents approach, laughing familiarly with a couple that she had never seen before.
“Ah, so you two have finally found each other. Well, it’s about time, isn’t it,” the man said jovially. Darcey’s bewildered feelings must have played out on her face, for her mother quickly stepped in.
“Darcey, this is King Julian Sanchez and his wife, Queen Jolene. And this,” her mother winked as she gestured to Hadrian, “is Prince Hadrian Sanchez, who you evidently have already met.”
“I am sorry that we have not been able to meet you sooner, Princess Darcey,” Queen Jolene said, extending a tanned hand reminiscent of her son’s skin tone. Her eyes held the same purple shards as Hadrian’s. “But we have been busy on Marseille, the island from which we hail and rule.”
“P-Princess Darcey, we are honored to make you’re a-acquaintance,” King Julian burped. Evidently he had had too much wine. But his messy hair was exactly like his son’s, and that was not a result of too much alcohol. “Now son, ask your hostess to dance! Your governesses taught you better.”
Hadrian appraised his boisterous father for a moment before turning to Darcey and asking her if he might have the pleasure of dancing with her. Darcey nodded, holding her head in an imitation of his, arrogantly high. Outwardly she radiated confidence, inwardly she was quivering with fear. She had paid little attention to her dance lessons with Madam Rosita the past month, focusing instead on the ballet of riding the waves.
She was surprised when her feet began gliding gently after Hadrian’s in a graceful waltz. Well, Madam Rosita wasn’t called a genius for nothing, she supposed. She felt everyone else on the marble tiled dance floor stop and watch them as they glided to its center. She saw Will and Mary Ann standing close together at the edge, mid step.
It felt like time had frozen. Darcey smiled, not at Hadrian, who was looking at anything but her, but at the kings and queens, counts and lords that surrounded them. They spun in circles alone. It seemed that hours had passed before their company regained their heads and began dancing around them again.
They shared another two dances before Hadrian’s light hands left her waist and led her back to their parents, who were talking quietly to one another. On their approach, the talking ceased.
“So Princess, how was our son’s dancing? He quite neglects his lessons,” King Julian snorted, a fresh bottle of wine in his hand. Hadrian rolled his eyes. His disgust of his father’s behavior was evident in every motion he made. He even rolled a hand over his untidy hair, in some effort to distant it from his father, showing off his previously hidden headband. The royal golden circlet he wore crossed over his forehead and encircled his head. It bore his name, Prince Hadrian Romero Julian Sanchez, and his animal, a stag.
“Prince Sanchez dances extremely well,” Darcey said. She avoided his eyes, which were staring up at the golden band that was almost hidden under her tiara and hair. Darcey’s mother looked up at her father, smiling.
“You may as well call him Hadrian,” his father said roughly. “You’ll be spending considerable time together, you know –”
“As you are both of royal blood and your parents and we are such good friends and our island is hardly two hour’s flight away,” Hadrian’s mother cut off his father, a stern look on her face.
Darcey turned to her parents, confused. They offered no assistance, except a prod from her mother to ask Hadrian if he would enjoy a tour of the maze-like palace gardens. He accepted with a slight tip of his head, and began walking away from them. It was not until they were out of the ballroom that Darcey spoke.
“Look, I have no idea what’s going on, or who you are, or whatever. I just want to make one thing clear. If you’re going to be so arrogant, then you can leave.” A touch of rage mingled with the exasperation in her voice.
“I know what’s going on, I know who I am, and I do not believe I am arrogant. I have no intentions of leaving just yet,” Hadrian’s purple-black eyes stopped staring into the twilight gardens and began boring into Darcey’s emerald green ones. He stared into her face for a long moment before letting his eyes rest on her headband once more. “A doe. You do not seem like a doe.”
“Yes, well, I’m a little out of sorts. You hardly seem a stag.” Darcey was stung. She so hoped to be a good leader, and being told that she didn’t seem like what she was didn’t help any.
“Appearances can be deceiving. You used to be poor, living with common people in a house. Hardly the accommodations one would expect of someone so lauded, so loved as Princess Martinaque.”
“Do you know what being ‘poor’ did to me? It forced me to learn humility and appreciation, something you obviously lack.”
“This is hardly the way to start a relationship. Perhaps we may start again? I feel that I may have been incorrect in more than one manner and appreciate your feedback.” Hadrian looked smug. In a single sentence, he had shown that he could mock both her humility and her appreciation.
“Indeed. Now, if you are quite done, I will be going.” And leaving him standing in the gardens, Darcey turned on her heel and marched back into the palace. She stormed past the hundreds of servants in their vain attempts to please her. She was past that now. She wanted to fume, to storm, to rant. She wanted to hit something. Her preferable target was still wandering the gardens with a self-satisfied look on his face.
These angry thoughts carried her past her bedroom and into her closet. She stripped off the dress and pulled a silk nightie over her head. She tore the golden tiara and band out of her hair and dove headlong into her bed. But before her perturbed mind could be farther troubled by Hadrian’s extreme disrespect, she had sunken into a deep sleep.

It was nearly noon when she woke to her mother hovering over her. She had a strange combination of regret, anger, and fear plastering her smooth face. She clutched her thin shawl around her, as if to warm herself.
“Darcey, what did you do last night?” Thessilia began quietly.
“I gave a spoiled prince what was coming to him,” Darcey replied hotly. Her memory was spotty, probably due in part to a considerable dosage of fruity champagne.
“My dear, you have no idea what you have done. No idea…” her mother reached out a hand and plucked the golden band from the ivory night table where it lay and tucked it neatly in Darcey’s hair.
“What do you mean?” The doe coming out yet again, Darcey was curious. When someone left an interesting tidbit like that hanging it drove her crazy. She was not nosey, but she had to know. This sounded like it concerned her a great deal. Her mother sighed before answering.
“Darcey, the Sanchez’ are staying here for several weeks. If you and Hadrian can’t get along…Darcey, love, you know that your father and I have your best interests at heart. I know that you are dating William Doscier, but you really need to end it. He has other plans, and so do you. I know you are young, but you and Hadrian…well, darling, you are to be married. An arranged marriage, planned from your cradles. You see, you are a doe, and Hadrian is a stag. A person may marry someone that is a different species than their symbol, but people who marry within their animal species tend to be better together than if not.”
This speech by her mother had completely bowled her over. An arranged marriage? It was the epitome of old school. Darcey didn’t even think that it had still existed. A single question exploded inside her head. “But…why me?”
“Well, darling, the Sanchez’ and Martinaques are the best of our class. Our families are the richest, the grandest, the most loved. Marseille has not had a public upset in over three hundred years, when the Sanchez family first took control. Up until now, an opportunity to unite the two families has not presented itself.”
“What about Will? Mary Ann?”
“Honey, Will and Mary Ann are free to do as they wish. It is a burden of being royalty. You must make sacrifices for your kingdom.”
“Sacrifices. So I have to give up my freedom to marry that pig? He’s an arrogant jerk!” Darcey stood up, her temper rising. Her pale gold nightie fell to just below the middle of her thigh, her long dark curly hair cascaded wildly downs her back.
“Dear, not everything is as they seem. Please, make efforts to get to know him.”
At that precise moment, the very boy who they had been talking burst into the room. Everyone stood still, surprised. Hadrian stood with his hand on the open door, looking like a frightened deer. He opened his mouth to say something, but shut it again. He reminded Darcey of a fish out of water. He suddenly decided that he had something to say.
“Highness, I apologize for my intrusion. Is it possible for me to have a private conversation with Princess Darcey?” Hadrian asked, every bit the gentleman. When it appeared that the servants had every intention of staying, he added: “Alone?”
“Of course, Prince Hadrian. Come along,” Thessilia gestured to the dozen or so servants milling about. On her way past her daughter she whispered: “Be good.”
While Darcey had no intention of being so, she decided that she would humor Hadrian and hear him out. She stood in front of her bed defiantly, wearing only that pale gold nightie and her headband.
“Princess, I am sorry. I did not intend to come off so badly last night. I was nervous. I have known of this arrangement for seventeen years, and last night was the first time I had ever seen you.” He spoke well, but there was a touch of anxiousness that Darcey couldn’t place.
When Darcey made no movement, not even to open her mouth to answer, Hadrian continued: “I know that this isn’t ideal for you. It isn’t for me, either. But it is our part of our duty. It is a burden that we as royalty must carry. If we had had siblings, perhaps this would have been deferred to them, but I am afraid that it falls to us.”
“So what now? You go buy a suit, I go buy a dress, and we’ll go find a comfy little beach to get married on? Give me a break.” Darcey snarled. Her disgust of this was evident, her anger boiling over. She had never been as angry as she had been the last two days. This level of rage was entirely new to her, but she felt it justified.
“Please, try to be reasonable. We cannot back out of this. It’s…it’s just who we are. I’m not totally thrilled. I had a girlfriend, against my parents’ wishes, that I had to leave behind. I think that you and that Doscier boy, William, are dating. You kind of need to…break it off –” Darcey interrupted him, furious. “How dare you? First you insult me by telling me that I’m not pretty enough to marry, and now you’re telling me who I can and can’t date! What is wrong with you?”
“I never said you weren’t pretty. In fact, you’re beautiful,” Hadrian said quietly. Darcey’s aggressive stance and fiery look in her eyes softened a little bit. He noticed, but quickly redirected his gaze to the marble floor at her feet.
Neither could think of anything to say for a rather long period of time. Hadrian’s thoughts were a mystery. Darcey was looking at him. He leaned against the whitewashed wall of her bedroom, his eyes roaming from the white marble tiled floor to the red and gold silk drapes blowing in the wind to the open patio doors. Eventually he could no longer control his eyes, for they started their wander once again and rested on Darcey’s face.
“Well, we can’t just stand here like idiots all day long,” Darcey began, meeting his gaze with a steely courage that took Hadrian’s breath away. He stared into her bright green eyes that reflected a dull acquiescence.
“Are you going to leave so I can get dressed?” Darcey asked impatiently. Hadrian bowed and turned on his heel, closing the doors behind him. Resigned, Darcey chose a dress similar to her customary green one and arranged her headband in a more feminine way. She chose leather sandals with golden buckles and her family’s crest on the heel. Checking her appearance in her mirror framed in roping gold sprouting crimson flowers, she walked out into the hall.
After asking a servant where her parents were, Darcey joined them in the library. They were sitting with the Sanchez’s, including Hadrian. They all looked up as she entered and sat on a red velvet settee next to one of the floor to ceiling windows. She studiously ignored them all, gazing resolutely out the window to the surf she was missing. Will, Mary Ann, and Dawson were out there right now, testing out their new boards.
Darcey only reacted when her father’s voice boomed into her ear, telling her to take Hadrian for a walk that didn’t end halfway through with her storming to her room. She grumpily acknowledged this and stood up, waiting for Hadrian to join her. After considerable prodding, he did so. Together they set off down the hallway, wandering aimlessly.
“Where are we going?” Hadrian asked tentatively.
“I don’t know…I’d rather just go to bed, but I don’t think that’s an option.” There was no resentment in her voice, merely acceptance of what was to come.
“Unfortunately, it is not. Your island is known for its excellent waves. Let’s go surfing.” Hadrian’s voice did not contain a suggestion, but a finality that she didn’t dare contradict.
“Fine. I’ll grab my board, you stay here.” Darcey ran off to her bedroom to get her customized surf board. When she came back, Hadrian was just sending off a servant. “I have just learned of an excellent little beach. We will go there.”
Without argument, Darcey fell in behind him, the board dragging her back. She was too mentally upset to really be able to carry it properly. Noticing this, Hadrian stopped and took her board. “Here, let me.”
They made their way through the palace gardens to a rather steep set of stone stairs. Darcey realized where they were going, but prayed she was wrong. Just before the stairs gave way to the slanting path, they broke off and headed to another beach that she had yet to explore. Hopefully this was the one he intended to go to. It wasn’t.
By the time they had reached the crossroads, Darcey was almost begging him to turn around. He continued resolutely on his way. Dawson saw them coming and waved them down, oblivious to her obvious discomfort.
Will and Mary Ann were just coming in on a wave when Darcey and Hadrian reached Dawson’s surf shack. He dug the end of Darcey’s board into the sand with one hand while extending his other to shake Dawson’s hand.
“I hear you’re one of the best surfers in the world. I was wondering if you’d have a board I can borrow. I haven’t been on the water in over a month, and it’s driving me crazy,” Hadrian laughed, his mood greatly lifted.
“Indeed I do. You’re Sanchez, right? I’ll have a board for you ready in a few days. Until then, you can use this one. It’s good and waxed, been waiting for a decent rider all week.” Dawson carefully handed a deep blue board decorated in black swirls and flowers to Hadrian before disappearing into his hut and closing the door. Hadrian looked at the board appraisingly for several moments. Satisfied, he shot a look back at Darcey before stripping off his tunic to reveal his dark purple board shorts and running into the water.
Darcey looked after him wondrously. Could one little surf session make him so much more pleasant? Darcey tore off her skirt, letting the red bikini she wore get some sunshine. She grabbed her board and ran after him, leaving Dawson standing alone amidst his forest of surf boards.
Will and Mary Ann watched them for a moment before wordlessly grabbing their clothes and wandering back up the stone pathway. Darcey hadn’t even noticed them until she saw Will’s orange board and Mary Ann’s pink one disappearing around a corner. A part of her wanted to go after them, but another wanted to stay and surf. She decided that she’d talk to them later. She hadn’t had any fun in a long time, and this was the only time that Hadrian appeared to be enjoying himself since he arrived.
After sharing a few waves, Darcey came in to lie on the beach. She grabbed a beach towel out of Dawson’s store room and spread it out on the white sand. Not bothering to get an umbrella or lotion, she propped herself up on her elbows and watched Hadrian surf. He was excellent. His form, his moves, even the way he angled his feet all spoke of years on a surf board.
He caught her watching and came in, a wide grin plastered on his face. He too grabbed a towel and dropped down beside her. A great deal of stress had been removed from him. His shoulders no longer drooped, but reflected their owner’s youth and strength. When he smiled, it was no longer with a grim set. It was a wide, genuine smile that brightened everything around him. It made Darcey feel a little more at ease with an arranged marriage. Not entirely, but a little bit.
“So, what did you think?” Hadrian asked, breaking that glowing smile to prop himself up on his elbows. He twisted so that his face and chest were facing her, awaiting her reply.
“Not bad,” she giggled. For the first time in all of her sixteen years Darcey felt free. There was something about Hadrian that just made her feel at home. Even Will, in all his perfection, couldn’t make that feeling come up in her. Maybe Hadrian was right. Maybe she did need to break up with Will. She pushed the thought out of her mind. She didn’t want to shatter this pristine moment.
Hadrian dropped down and lay still on his blanket, his chest softly moving up and down as he drew breath. His thick eyelashes fluttered shut, hiding his murky black-purple eyes. Darcey watched as he tilted his chin upwards, reaching for the warm rays of the sun. He had fallen asleep. She smiled before relaxing back down, letting the sun and the sand warm her from above and below. She felt herself drifting into unconsciousness, and fell into a warm
They didn’t stir for almost an hour, lying in the sun. Only when a dark shadow stood over them did Darcey’s eyelids open. Slowly the dark shape of Will came in to focus. He had his hands on his hips, staring down at the sand between her and Hadrian. Darcey looked down. Her hand was lying dangerously close to Hadrian’s. She quickly withdrew her hand.
“Will…we need to talk,” Darcey began. Will looked down at her for a moment before answering: “Yes, I really think we do.”
Darcey got up and walked to the shore several yards away. She felt the soft sand in her toes, the cool water lapping at her feet. Will walked up behind her. For a minute, neither said a word. Darcey finally broke the tension.
“Will, I always want to be your friend, but my parents have involved me in an arranged marriage. To Hadrian. I can’t break it off, Will, I just can’t –”
“Darcey, it’s ok. I know that your family has a history of arranged marriages. I understand, and I’m fine with it. I knew that we couldn’t stay together when you became a princess. So we didn’t work out. I’ll always be your friend. Just…be careful, ok?” Will was so understanding and kind that it was almost unbearable.
“Why do you have to be so awesome?” Darcey smiled, nudging him with her shoulder. Will laughed and gave her a hug before turning around and heading back up the beach. “I’ve got to go…Mom and Dad seem to think that they’ve found someone that I just have meet.”
Darcey smiled as she watched Will climb the cliff ridge to the stairs. She looked over her shoulder and saw Hadrian sitting up on his towel, his arms flung casually over his legs. He didn’t smile, but merely nodded to her, beckoning to her to come and sit down.
She crossed her arms and walked back up the beach to Hadrian. She sat down cross-legged on her towel, facing him. He pivoted to look at her. For a few moments neither said anything. They just stared at each other. Then Hadrian, in one quick motion, had jumped up from his towel, twisted in midair, and landed again on her towel in the exact same position.
Hadrian flashed her his brilliant, day-brightening smile. Darcey smiled feebly back. Maybe it was because Hadrian was a stag and Darcey was a doe, but she felt really comfortable with him. She sighed and tilted her head towards him. He extended an awkward arm and cautiously put an arm around her shoulder.
Darcey looked up and saw Hadrian looking down at her. A smile flickered at the corners of his perfect mouth. A powerful urge to see that smile again overcame Darcey. She grinned and watched as he responded in kind. That smile made her feel so good, it was crazy. She had no idea what a smile could do until she saw his.
“So what’s next?” Darcey asked as she leaned farther into his chest.
“Well…legally, nobody can get married until they’re eighteen, at least not here. And you’re seventeenth birthday is in two days. Which means we’ve got another year,” Hadrian said, something between regret and relief in his voice.
“My…birthday? I totally forgot. So what do you islanders do for birthdays, anyway? Some big royal bash, I assume.” Darcey laughed, pushing the wedding date out of her mind.
“Actually, birthdays here really aren’t a big deal. A family dinner party with a few select guests is all that is required. The only big birthday is when you are born, but nobody can remember that,” Hadrian smiled his dazzling smile again.
“You’re coming, right? I mean, your family is supposed to be here for weeks, and the party thing is in a few days…” Darcey was surprised by a touch of nervousness in her voice. It had never held that tone before.
“Yeah, I’m coming.” Hadrian reached out the other arm, much more comfortably than he had previously. His fingers interlocked behind Darcey’s back, forcing her to turn her body to face him. “But there’s something I should probably warn you about. Tonight and tomorrow night are probably going to be a bit hectic. Big parties, you know, to make up for the one little one. Of course, they’re not just for your birthday. Mostly they are for your coming home, and…us. You know, first time we’ve met. It’s kind of like a sendoff into…well, marriage and adulthood.” He danced around the word ‘marriage’, as if it was dangerous.
“Oh. So…oh,” There really didn’t seem like there was anything else that they could talk about. Hadrian seemed to sense her wordlessness, as he stood up and dragged her with him. Releasing his hands, he grabbed their towels and dumped them in a basket next to Dawson’s tent. He put his borrowed surf board back in the forest of boards and grabbed Darcey’s green board off of the sand. He swung it under his left arm and outstretched his right to Darcey. Smiling, she grabbed their clothes off the beach and slipped her skirt back on over her bikini bottom as she threw him his purple tunic.
Hadrian laughed as he slipped it over his head with a single hand. He then reached out and grabbed Darcey around the waist. She squealed but did not fight. Instead, she wrapped her left arm up around his shoulder, letting her hand hang in front of his chest. He looked down at it, smiling.
They walked back up the long, winding stairs together, smiling but silent. Darcey beamed at him for no particular reason. As they neared the palace, she could see both of their parents standing together, watching them, talking. She ignored them and pulled Hadrian around into a side entrance that led to her bedroom quicker. She wanted to put her surf board away, wanted to get out of their parents’ sights. She felt their prying eyes and didn’t like the feeling.
Darcey reached up and grabbed Hadrian’ hand off her shoulder and pulled him through the quiet halls. She knew that the servants rarely used this hallway as it connected to no major part of the palace.
They reached her rooms in a remarkably short time. Darcey locked her doors, then grabbed her surf board from Hadrian and placed it gingerly in the corner by her patio. She then wandered into her massive closet, curious to the extent of its habitation.
She found something tucked away that she never expected to. She called Hadrian over to show him a period ball gown. It was a violent shade of deep red with sprigs of golden lace exploding around the bust line. It was corseted, its whalebone ribs stiff. The red silk piled in oceans of fabric, fanning around their legs. Its skirt was so long that it would have required four servants to hold it up and keep it from touching the ground.
Darcey stared at the gown a little bit longer before quietly tucking it back into its corner. She was devastatingly curious about the dress, but that would get her nowhere. She would ask her lady’s maid, Tania, later.
Walking back through her bedroom, Hadrian reached out and grabbed Darcey’s left hand. He spun her around so that she was inches from him. He placed her right hand on his shoulder, his on her waist. A grin flickering at the corners of her mouth, Darcey asked, “What on earth are you doing?”
“You dance well, but you will need refining for the parties to come. I have had to endure seventeen years of dance lessons with one of the best in the world. I’ve picked up a few things,” Hadrian replied airily.
“Oh, have you? Can you open a can of soup with a knife, mop a floor or fix a tear in your pants? I think not,” Darcey smirked. If he thought he could impress her by his dancing, he had another thing coming.
“But you are a princess,” he whispered into her ear as he began to spin her across her floor. “You do not need to do those things anymore. Now, step, step, step, turn…very good.” He loosed another heart melting smile that had been fighting for freedom for hours. He nodded as she stepped correctly, wincing when she stepped on his feet.
“Sorry! Sorry…I don’t mean to hurt you,” Darcey said nervously. Her hand had, unbeknown to her, had moved from her shoulder to curl around his neck. Hadrian had noticed this, but had not made a move to remove it. He just smiled at her again.
They danced to music that was not playing for nearly an hour. In that time, Hadrian’s grip on her had tightened considerably from the first time they danced. He had taught her proper form and footwork, and like the fast study she was, could dance just as well if not better than he could. Madam Rosita would be shocked.
“Well, Princess,” Hadrian teased. “It’s nearly five. More guests will begin arriving in a few hours. I must withdraw to my chambers to prepare. I recommend that you do the same.” He winked at her before reluctantly dropping his hands from her waist and turning to unlock her door.
He paused with one of the heavy doors open and looked back. Darcey smiled and playfully shoved him out of her room. As soon as he left, Tania entered, flustered and antsy. She bolted to the elegant closet and hastily pulled out a ball gown that Darcey hadn’t noticed. It was very much like the red one she had seen an hour earlier except that this one was a bright gold strung with dark red ribbons trailing down the back of the skirt that rivaled the mountain path in length.
“Princess,” Tania gulped, “tonight is much more formal than last night. You will be required to wear this gown. If you will please stand over there…” the maid gestured to a soft velvet stood in front of three full length mirrors.
Darcey winced as Tania yanked a stiff corset around her waist and pulled it tighter and tighter. She could hardly draw her breath when her maid had finished. She had been cinched to a suffocating eighteen inches. It was intolerable. After a great deal of browbeating, Darcey had convinced Tania to give her an extra two inches’ breathing room. It was still uncomfortable, but it wasn’t killing her.
Acres of gold fabric were thrown over her head. The dress settled around her waist, fitting her perfectly. The skirt flounced down past her toes, heaping a good six inches of fabric on the floor. The top of the dress was tight against her corseted middle. It had no sleeves or straps, but was held up by the back of it, which was adorned in streaming red silk ribbons.
Tania took her mistress off the pedestal and sat her down at the nearby vanity table. She put her hair up in a modest pompadour, a style which accentuated Darcey’s finest features. Her long hair curled down her back. Several wisps around her ears frizzed and curled around her cheeks, and several obstinate strands banded together to fall across her forehead. Red plume feathers sat on the crown of her head, flouncing when she moved. They framed her high hair but did not appear overdone.
As a final preparation, Tania took out that gilded golden tiara garnished with diamonds and rubies. She gently nestled it on top of Darcey’s forehead, just allowing sight of her traditional headband.
Her makeup, hair, and clothes neatly done up, Darcey emerged from her dressing room every inch the princess. Tania opened up her heavy bedroom doors to show a handsomely done up Hadrian waiting to escort his betrothed to the ballroom. He smiled his brilliant smile when he saw her, a smile that did not cease even as he led her down the long hallways to the sparkling dining hall. They stopped at the entrance and bowed to everyone in attendance. Hadrian then lead Darcey to a pair of unoccupied seats where he pulled one out for her and waited her to be seated before he pushed it back in and took up the seat next to hers.
The other guests took their seats as Darcey’s parents stood up at the head of the table. Hadrian’s parents followed suit as the chatter died out. The four royals stood together in a line facing the crowds. Darcey looked back at Hadrian for support. He looked calmly nervous. He caught her gaze and held it as he reached out and squeezed her hand. Smiling faintly, Darcey turned her head back to her parents, although leaning considerably back toward Hadrian.
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the second day of our celebrations,” her father began. “Before we begin the feast, we have an announcement to make.”
Darcey stole another look at Hadrian. A mixture of pride and severe embarrassment was coloring his handsome face.
“As you all know, our daughter, Princess Darcey, has returned to us. She has been here little more than a month, and already looks the part she was born to play,” her father gestured to his daughter, a wide grin on his face. He winked at her before continuing. “But very few, if any, of you know that while in her cradle a marriage had been planned with a member of the royal family from a neighboring island. Exactly one year, two days, you are all invited to the wedding of Princess Darcey Martinaque and Prince Hadrian Sanchez!”
The crowd all turned to stare at the young royals sitting next to each other. An explosion of applause ensued, and the deafening noise was only ended when King Sanchez cleared his heavy throat and abruptly slammed his fist down on the massive dining table in a rather uncivilized manner.
“Yes, yes, it is a wonderful occasion. Yet, we should not be celebrating a new love, but instead the unity of two great nations into one,” raising his large glass full of wine, he toasted Hadrian and Darcey. “May your efforts to preserve peace prove fruitful and your time as rulers be blessed. To the Prince and Princess!”
“To the Prince and Princess,” the crowd echoed as they raised their wine glasses with a clink. A long silence followed as their guests drank their wine.
A large army of waiters and chefs appeared bedecked with foods of all varieties. The elongated dining table’s gold gilded top was covered in all manner of beef and pork, vegetables and fruits. Jugs of wine and water sat at intervals between the chairs.
The feast was just as noisy an affair as the previous one had been. Royals and nobility shouted out their congratulations to the young pair across the dining hall. Nobody, however, spoke louder than King Sanchez himself. He boomed his every emotion, however minute it was. He had no scruples in planning his son’s future with Darcey loud enough for the hundred or so guests to hear every word.
A concerned look from Hadrian told her all she needed to know. He was gravely embarrassed of his father’s boisterous attitude. For the first time that evening, Darcey noticed the great amount of hair oil he had used to slick back his messy mane in an attempt to differentiate himself from his father. Darcey ran a hand up his arm. He flinched, but on realizing who it was, forced his lips into a dull smile. He was really out in space.
“Hey, don’t worry. Dinner will be over soon, and when the dancing begins we can go out to the gardens or something. We don’t have to stick around,” Darcey whispered without drawing the notice of anyone.
“No…you don’t understand. We’re expected to dance together. Every dance. We can’t just flit off somewhere. It wouldn’t be proper,” Hadrian quietly replied into her ear. He knew it would hurt her, but he just couldn’t leave. Leave and risk his father’s wrath.
As promised, dinner ended within the hour. Tipsy partygoers stumbled as gracefully as possible into the ballroom as the band struck up a soft waltz. As tradition dictated, the Martinaques started the dance followed shortly by the Sanchez’. Hadrian bowed low to Darcey and requested the pleasure of dancing with her once more. With a put on smile of shy embarrassment, she agreed. Flashing him a quick wink to dissipate the confused expression in his eyes, they took the floor with their parents.
For several minutes the three couples circled the floor, their superior dancing and well crafted clothing making them an intimidating act to follow. But follow many did, as soon as the first dance ended.
Darcey fought the urge to shift her hand from Hadrian’s shoulder to the back of his neck. From the mischievous twinkle in his eyes, she knew he was thinking a similar thing. She grinned at him and squeezed his shoulder. In response, he winked, flashed his brilliant trademark smile, and lowered his hand on her back. While not noticeable to spectators, Darcey could feel it and a fiery blush spread across her high cheekbones.
After several tangos, the slowest dance of the night began. Hadrian’s hand stayed where it was while Darcey finally got up the courage to move her hand from his shoulder to hug the back of the neck. Nobody notice this, and they went on dancing slowly together, every few steps drawing a little closer together.
When the song finally ended, they were so close that if Darcey took a deep breath, the lace on the bust of her dress would brush the lapels of Hadrian’s black suit jacket. Without drawing apart they turned to clap with the rest of the audience for the band. It had been the last song of the evening. It was nearly two in the morning. The guests began filing out of the ballroom to their waiting carriages that would take them to their villas and grand mansions where they would sleep past noon, waking only for water or coffee and nursing tender hangovers.
Hadrian’s arm, which had been encircling Darcey’s shoulders and pulling her close, slid down her arm and grabbed her hand. He led her quietly through the receding crowd and out onto the palace grounds. From there he scooped up her legs, covered in frothy lace and silk, and carried her down a long, familiar, yet abandoned hallway. Darcey wrapped her free arm around his neck, stifling a laugh.
He finally deposited her outside her bedroom door. Winking at her, he said, “I’ll be back in half an hour. Get changed, I wouldn’t want that lovely dress you’re wearing to get ruined.”
Darcey smiled, but had no idea what she was meant to change into. She decided on a red bikini and a golden skirt with flat sandals. She took her hair out of its arrangement herself and let it fall happily to just above her hips. She removed her tiara and placed it carefully in its velvet box. The dress which had been strewn across her massive bed was replaced in its proper place in the closet.
It hardly seemed that half an hour had passed, but there Hadrian was, leaning casually against her door. He wore a red and gold tunic with a golden cloak and hood. He looked her up and down before striding to her closet and rummaging around inside it until he found what he desired. He pulled out a long gold silk cloak with a generous hood edged in red ribbon. He gently wrapped it around her and fastened its gold clasp shut at her collarbone. He then flicked up her hood before doing the same to his.
Hadrian grabbed Darcey’s hand and led her out a passage that she had not been down. Before long the sweet smell of hay and horses met her nose. In one heart stopping moment, she could picture herself falling from the back of one of the beasts and breaking her neck. In the next, she saw herself and Hadrian riding side by side as their mounts ran gaily across a moonlit beach.
Hadrian looked back at her, excitement in his midnight eyes. The stabs of purple were illuminated in the moonlight. Darcey sucked in her breath and pushed forward through her invisible barrier of fear. Her wide doe eyes reflected her trust in him. Beaming, he led her toward a pair of snowy horses tacked up and ready to go. He lifted her with remarkable ease on to the back of the white mare then vaulted on to the back of the stallion. Together they walked out of the golden stables on their white steeds and into the unknown.
The moon shone brightly on their path as Hadrian steered his horse onto a sandy path sloping downward and broke into a relaxed canter. Darcey followed him, chasing what seemed an impossible goal.
They ran beside each other, racing down the path. Eventually the sandy walkway exploded into a deserted beach. Small breakers crashed across the sand. Birds fluttered in and out of the surrounding forests. Darcey pushed her horse into the waves, and laughed out loud when it lifted its legs to jump over the oncoming waves. Hadrian watched from shore, sitting astride his horse and laughing at her.
Darcey turned her mare up to Hadrian. He broke into a canter and turned his horse in a circle before sliding off its side. His arms flown outward, he placed one foot in front of the other and bowed low.
Darcey attempted the same thing but got her cloak stuck in her right stirrup. Her left foot had already slid out of its stirrup, and she was dangling precariously without a grip on either rein or mane. Her horse ran faster and faster, terrified by her flapping cloak and its rider dangling off its side. Finally Darcey’s cloak slipped out from its trap and she came tumbling to the ground. Her horse bolted to the other end of the beach, she lay still in the sand.
Hadrian came running, terror stricken. He was running as fast as he could, but he felt like he wasn’t moving at all. Why didn’t she move? He stumbled on the sand but didn’t stop his forward motion. Recovering his stride, Hadrian jumped forward and landed on his knees, skidding forward to where Darcey’s body was strewn, still unmoving. He put one hand around her waist, drawing her on top of his lap. The other wound its way to the back of her head, his fingers woven through her wet hair.
He sat on the beach rocking her for some time. After nearly an hour, Darcey’s pristine eyelashes began to flicker ever so slightly. Hadrian’s eyes locked on hers, earnestly searching out the smallest sign of life. He held his breath as Darcey drew a shuttering breath. She opened her eyes slowly and looked around, surprised. Her eyes met his, and a small smile appeared on her face.
“Hey,” she croaked, not leaving his arms.
“Hey,” Hadrian whispered, the brightest smile he had on his face. “Darcey…I am so sorry –”
“Don’t be,” she said softly. She reached out an arm and gingerly placed it around his shoulder. “It wasn’t you’re fault. I was trying to do what you did, and I haven’t taken riding lessons yet…”
“Come on, let’s go back,” Hadrian started to rise, but Darcey didn’t even make an effort. “I’d actually rather stay here tonight.”
“We can’t. Everyone would be wondering where we are…we just can’t.” Hadrian shook his head and subtly tried to wipe the moisture from his eyes. This was not lost on Darcey, but she decided to store it away for later.
“Please? It must be nearly sunrise. Nobody would miss us yet,” Darcey was stubborn, and she wasn’t about to give up yet.
Hadrian smiled down at her. He still hadn’t moved his hands from her back and head. After her accident, he didn’t want to deny her anything. He whistled and the horses came over. Darcey winced at their approach but didn’t move away.
Darcey watched as he slowly let go of her and went to them. He took their bridles and saddles off and put them on the ground. The saddle blankets proved a great asset, as it was considerably uncomfortable to sit on the sand for hours on end. Hadrian spread the blankets out to face the beach before shooing the horses away and slumping down in one of them. Darcey crawled into the other and stared at the moon.
The sun was just rising when she woke up. While a considerable headache greeted her, she was feeling brilliant. The sand provided a soft mattress while the whistling winds, singing birds, and crashing waves created a wondrous melody.
She looked over at the sleeping figure on the next horse blanket. His unruly hair was considerably longer when not slicked back and was currently being a source of unconscious irritation to his thin eyelids. Darcey reached out a pristine hand and was in the process of brushing it from his forehead when his hand shot up and grabbed her wrist. She squealed and flipped back onto her own blanket. Hadrian wasn’t able to let go of her wrist fast enough and was catapulted onto Darcey, nearly crushing her.
Darcey smiled as Hadrian steadied himself. His arms pushed him about two feet above her. He beamed down at her as he cut the distance between them in half by dropping to his elbows. Darcey propped herself up on her forearms, taking up nearly all the space in between them.
Hadrian’s brilliant smile did not cease even as he bent to kiss her forehead. Darcey smiled back in the same radiant manner as she flung her arms carelessly around his strong, tanned neck.
“So what now?” She asked, tilting her head to the left. “Get the horses and go back to the palace, I suppose. To dull palace life…”
“Not necessarily. We could stay on the beach all day. We could go for a walk in the forest, or take a stroll in the village nearby,” Hadrian began listing off possibilities of how to spend their day.
“Why don’t we go to the town? It’s really close, I can hear shouting. It would be nice to get out.” Darcey tilted her head forward so that her forehead met Hadrian’s.
“An excellent choice, my dear. That is why I have worn the clothes of your people. But leave the horses. Dijoubwe is an island. They can’t get far, and everyone knows that white horses belong to the royal family.” Hadrian gingerly got up, trying to avoid hurting her.
He bent to scoop her up, but she beat him to it by standing up on her own. She grinned at his expression, so hard to place but adorable nonetheless. She flicked his hood over his beautiful purple eyes so that only his architectural nose, perfect mouth, and marble carved jaw line were visible.
Hadrian cupped her oval shaped face in his hands, appraising her. He slid his hands down her neck to the hood of her cloak and pulled it carefully over her head so that nothing above her nose was showing. He gently took up her hand, threaded his fingers in hers and started up the path to the small village nearby.
The pair were inconspicuous in the little town, even for their fine silk robes. Everyone was too preoccupied with their chatter and work to notice a couple of teens strolling along. Weavers were folding fresh linens and silks, leatherworkers were letting their work dry in the sun, bakers setting their goods out to cool and to entice buyers near.
Hadrian bought two small cakes from one such baker and had just finished his when he asked: “What’s on your mind?”
Darcey brushed the powder from the cake off her fingers before replying. “I was just…just thinking.”
“About what?”
“About…you know. Us,” Darcey was embarrassed to continue.
“What about us?” Hadrian asked gently.
“Well, I mean, in a year, we’re going to need to make some decisions. About where we’re going to live and stuff, right?”
“Yeah, I guess so,” the uncomfortable tone of his voice evident. “We could talk about that, if you want.”
“I don’t know. I mean, it’s kind of a private thing, isn’t it?” Darcey would much rather have talked about such a subject on the beach, or in her bedroom back at the palace. She voiced these thoughts and he agreed. It took almost three hours, but they eventually snuck into Darcey’s bedroom and barricaded themselves in.
Hadrian stole a look into the hall to ensure that nobody was watching before drawing the thick silk curtains that floated above them shut. He then promptly turned and bounced onto the bed where sat his fiancée.
“So my dear, what do you want to talk about that could not be said in the village?” Hadrian queried, looking down at her hands. Something seemed to bother him, but she could not place it. Shaking it off, she replied: “I just want to know where we’ll be living when we’re…you know, married. I mean, we live on two different islands. We can’t just join them together.”
“Ah, yes. Well, we would split the time evenly. Either we would switch every month, six months, or year. I personally would prefer every six months, because that gives us a decent amount of time with our people but does not exhaust us with travel.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Darcey stared up to her delicately curled ceiling with its intricate patterns carved into stone.
“Was there anything else, or have we gone to the trouble of locking ourselves away from the world to find out future living arrangements?” Hadrian looked amused, his eyes twinkling.
“I’m just a little scared, I guess. For sixteen years I’ve been a nobody. A month ago I found out that I was a princess, and here I am engaged to a prince I’ve just met and going to be married in a year,” Darcey got up and walked to her balcony doors. Pushing them open, she stepped out onto the cool stone patio. She leaned against the thick, exquisitely carved stone banister and watched as several servants walked by with the white horses that she had abandoned on the beach. The wind blew in the palms. Waves crashed across a far off beach, parrots and other tropical birds flew from tree to tree. This really was paradise, and she was the queen of it all.
Hadrian walked up quietly behind her. He put his hands over hers and leaned over her. He took a deep breath, and Darcey could feel his chest on her back.
“Listen to me,” Hadrian smiled. “Everything will work out.”
“If you say so,” Darcey turned around in his arms and touched his forehead to hers. “This year is going to go by slowly.”
“What, eager to get it over with, or excited to be married?” Hadrian laughed quietly, as though both were true.
“I don’t mind attending balls and stuff, but I’d just rather be done with it. The wedding, I mean,” Darcey blinked and started to shrink down against the railing. Hadrian caught her and pulled her back up.
“If you’d really rather get it over with…I might know a way how.” Hadrian’s black-purple eyes were clouded over, veiling their emotions. Darcey studied him for a moment before she replied. “Yes, I’d really prefer it. Over, I mean. To stop the waiting and staring…”
“And that guilty feeling? Come on, I know you said that Will took it well, but you can’t bottle everything up forever. Are you sure that you want to get married sooner because it’s really what you want, or because you want to get away from Will?”
“I…it’s what I want, Hadrian. The fact that it would take me away from Will is a down side for me. Will and Mary Ann were always there, and it’s just hard imagining staying around them for another year to just cut everything off so suddenly.” A solitary tear drifted down her cheek, glistening in the sun.
Hadrian watched as it made its way down the perfect line of her chin and down her smooth neck. When it had reached the hollow point of her chest, he gently brushed it away. He watched her eyes flicker back and forth, searching his face for some encouragement that she was doing the right thing.
“What,” Darcey grabbed his wrists as she spoke, “is this way to get it over with?”
Hadrian’s shoulders seized up a little, and he raised his face to the sea. He breathed deeply and tried to calm his nerves. His head dropped as his eyes scanned the ground. He seemed to be stalling.
“Darcey…I shouldn’t have mentioned it,” he drew in a deep breath and held it. He raised his gaze to meet hers. She stared back into his purple obsidian eyes, confused. Darcey wanted to know what he was talking about. “What? What do you mean? I want to know, Hadrian –”
“No, Darcey, you really don’t. We’ll wait a year. We’ll wait,” Hadrian stood straight up and slammed his fist down on the banister. Darcey jumped and moved away. This Hadrian scared her. One second he was leading her to a tantalizing finish, the next it proved a new and frightening dead end.
Hadrian saw her move away from him and his muscles relaxed. His hands unclenched themselves and his arms moved to her. Darcey moved back farther from him and drew her loose clothes tighter around her. A pained look crossed his smooth features. He looked at her, confusion and anxiety evident on his handsome face.
“Darcey –”
“Don’t…just don’t. Not right now, Hadrian,” Darcey turned away, oblivious to the intense look of deep pain that shadowed his fine face, the intense pain that stabbed his unique purple-black eyes.
“Please…I’m sorry. I just couldn’t bear the idea once I’d said it out loud,” he ran his fingers through his thick black hair. “Darcey, please…”
Darcey turned around to look at him. Sharply breathing in, she saw glistening beads of water threatening to overrun his face. They framed his thick eyelashes and made his eyes glass over. It was shocking, this realization that he cared that much. That he cared about her.
She took a step forward and reached for his loose tunic folds. Gently grabbing a fistful of the deep purple silk, she pulled him toward her. He didn’t fight her, but he wouldn’t make the process easier.
When they were within inches of each other, Darcey let one hand slide over his sinewy, bare shoulder and the other up into his dark hair. She twisted a small curl in her fingers and looked into Hadrian’s wet eyes. She tilted her head up and her painted lips parted slightly. She leaned in, closing the small gap between them by half. A questioning look passed over Hadrian’s face as he stood still. Darcey let her eyelids slowly fall in acquiescence.
In an instant Hadrian had wrapped his arms around Darcey’s thin waist, more than closing the distance between them. His hands slid to the small of her back and nape of her neck. He touched his forehead to hers as their breath mingled. Pulling her even closer, he almost lifted her off her feet.
Darcey’s mind was entirely devoid of anything except her present situation. It was so suggestive, and other such situations had led to disappointment. But perhaps she was over thinking it. She just had to go with it…
For what seemed like an eternity she stood there, poised for what she hoped was coming. That hope radiated from her, leaving her glowing. Hadrian must have been able to see this, otherwise what happened next would have been less magical.
Darcey had begun to open her mouth, and had gotten as far as “I lo-”, when Hadrian’s mouth pressed firmly against hers. It caught her by surprise, but felt completely natural. He pushed her backward, forcing her against the palace’s cold marble walls.
That first kiss seemed to last both forever and merely a second. It confused her, but reaffirmed her feelings for this boy with the purple-black eyes. Her hand wove through his midnight hair, feeling all its spiked tips. Her eyes closed, enjoying the moment. He drew away slowly, but her eyes flashed open. He hovered mere inches from her face, letting a confident grin spread across his gorgeous features.
“I love you too,” he whispered into her ear. He was still leaning against her, pressing her back against the hard marble wall. But at that moment, all that existed was him. The palace, the island, even the world sunk into insignificance. A sudden flare crossed her mind as she replied: “Why?”
Whatever smiles she had seen Hadrian offer were dulled to stone. The brilliance of this smile, so full of warmth and love, could not compare to anything she could think of. “You’re my guiding star in the night, my sunlit angel in the day. You’re my friend, my love, my life. Princess Martinaque,” Hadrian grabbed her hands and sunk to one knee. “Will you marry me?”
Darcey couldn’t help it. She let loose a peal of laughter. When she looked into his eyes, she could see her love for him reflected back at her. Bending down to his eye level, she softly answered, “Always.”
Hadrian stood up and grabbed her around the waist, swinging her in circles in the air. When he let her down, he tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and looked seriously at her. “I love you. That’s why.”

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Tag der Veröffentlichung: 22.06.2011

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