Part III


Several months passed since their unofficial engagement and first kiss. Neither had been shared to their parents. They were well accustomed to sneak out of the palace at odd hours to spend the night wandering beaches and forests, although Hadrian never again suggested horses. Darcey was impatient, wanting her next birthday to come sooner. Not merely to get the wedding over with, but to be able to be with Hadrian, to not have to leave him to trifle with any miniscule thing.
Hadrian, she knew, felt the same way. But in the intervening months, he had not brought up the subject of an early marriage again. It would still be another nine months to wait, but he seemed willing to submit to it, provided it keep Darcey from whatever it was.
Walking alone in the garden one day her impatience ran thin and she thus accosted him: “My love, answer me without hesitation. I want to know…what you were thinking about before you actually proposed to me. Three months ago.”
Hadrian was evidently hesitant to talk on the subject, for while not hesitating exactly, he did not come out with it immediately.
“I was thinking, my fairest one, of how much I loved you. You were so perfect, so lively and beautiful, how could I think of anything else?”
“You know this isn’t the truth. Please, Hadrian. I really want to know.”
“Darcey…it is only because I love you, and would hate to disappoint you, that I tell you this. There is an island nearby where couples may get married without being the proper age. It’s a horrible, violent, seedy type of place, but I know of many who have sealed their fates on that island, for better or worse. As soon as the thought entered my mind, I banished it and punished myself. I could not, would not have put you through such a terrible experience.” Pain crossed Hadrian’s handsome face. There was something hidden there, something that he refused to share with anyone. One day, Darcey would like to know what that something was. But until then, she trusted him.
“Hadrian, I’m sorry. For making you remember. I love you too, and if you want to wait until next year, then I will,” Darcey grabbed his hand.
“I don’t want to wait. But I have to…so this will have to suffice,” Hadrian leaned in and offered her another heart stopping kiss.
“Well, if I have to wait…” Darcey giggled. Maybe waiting for their wedding wouldn’t be so bad.
In fact, it was almost fun to pretend that Hadrian hadn’t proposed to her and that they were engaged of their parents’ accord. That they spent every waking hour together. That they were in love. But she knew that the fun would wear over the intervening months. She was a pretty patient girl, but that was almost impossibly distant for a teenager in love.
They wound around the palace gardens and back to the towering marble beast where their parents were waiting. There was another ball scheduled for tonight, and they had to start getting ready. Ever since Darcey came home, there had been a monthly ball even larger and grander than the last. It was getting tiring, but as long as Hadrian was there, she could bear it.
Hadrian smiled down at her as they neared the courtyards. A warm feeling spread over Darcey’s chest that he could be so bold as to walk so close to her, to pretend to have even the warmest feeling for her, when both their parents were so near.
Rounding the last bend, the smile disappeared from his face and he moved a few inches farther from her. He dropped her hand regretfully and stared strait ahead. Darcey mimicked him, crossing her arms protectively over her chest. She looked away from her watchful parents, a wistful look tempered with resentment shading her face.
“Ah, my darling! Come, come dear. There is much to be done for tonight, and the tailor is here for your final fitting,” Queen Martinaque embraced her daughter and bustled her off to her cavernous rooms. Darcey threw a pained look back at her fiancé, who was trying valiantly to look indifferent.
Darcey’s mother flew into her daughter’s massive closet and pulled out a decadent silvery gown with crimson and golden embroidery on the skirt and bodice. Gossamer flowed from the train and billowed to the floor and covered the long princess sleeves.
An army of servants, including Tania, stripped Darcey down and laced her into a cool silk corset. The dress parachuted down over top of her. Yanking it past her hips, she impatiently twitched as the fleet of maids made last minute adjustments.
“Darcey, please stop that fiddling! Honestly darling, one might think that you have a nervous disorder,” her mother commanded. The Queen was sitting on Darcey’s bed watching the proceedings.
Soon she retreated to her own chambers to be dressed. To her daughter’s infinite relief, more than half of the tiresome palace ladies’ maids went with her. Darcey was left with an even dozen to finish her dressing, hair, and makeup. Tania stood by overseeing it all.
In just over an hour, she was ready. The maids all evacuated her dressing room to finish assisting their queen, leaving Darcey to stare at her reflection in the mirror. The girl that looked back was exquisite, with her emerald green eyes highlighted and her deep brown hair rising and falling in intricate patterns.
A knock on her door brought her back to earth with a thump. She slid into her diamond white high heels and trod softly to the heavy doors. She opened them and gasped, grabbing the diamond necklace hanging at her throat.
A dashing young man in tails walked into the room. His dark hair was slicked back. The strong jaw line was freshly shaved and smelled of expensive cologne. But instead of the laughing black and purple eyes that could make her heart twist, sharp blue ones met her gaze.
“Will!” Darcey gasped. “What are you doing here?”
“I just wanted to see how you were doing. You’ve been so busy with your fi-,” his voice broke over the word, “fiancé…I haven’t had a chance to talk to you.”
“Oh. Well, I’m fine. And it’s so good to see you again.” Darcey surprised herself by moving behind the door and closing it slightly. Will didn’t seem to notice, but backed off nonetheless.
“I really should go. Carissa’s waiting for me,” Will paused and looked up into Darcey’s eyes. “Uh…Carissa Romero. Her parents are –”
“Lord and Lady Romero. Yeah, I met them a few months ago, when my,” she paused, struggling to speak. “My…engagement was announced. So you two are…?”
“Dating, yeah. Dante wasn’t happy, but he’s got some girl on Obweji that he’s with a lot. Carissa’s the girl my parents wanted me to meet. It’s not like an arranged marriage, but they’d hoped… Anyway, I’ve got to go. See you later, Darcey.”
The door had been closed only five minutes when another knock brought its mistress running up again, pulling back her voluminous skirts. Instead of the blue eyes that she last saw, affectionately familiar black eyes shredded in purple quickly darted inside. No matter what he did, he always managed to look gorgeous.
“Hello, my love. You are absolutely ravishing,” he turned quickly and locked her door. “Not that unusual, really.”
“Ah, sweet Prince. You are deliciously charming, and you don’t look that bad yourself,” Darcey winked and smiled, tilting her head up, expecting his kiss. It didn’t come for some time, which surprised her.
“Is something wrong?”
“No! No…it’s just that I can’t believe how lucky I am. You’re really perfect, you know…”
“I’m really not. I’m a princess who was raised like a pauper. You…you really are a prince. Prince Charming,” Darcey closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the doors, exposing the soft skin of her neck.
He leaned in, but stopped less than an inch from her. She could smell his casually expensive aftershave, his hand milled Japanese soap. His hands wrapped around the back of her hair and her silk clad back. Darcey’s hands splayed out against the cold door, pushing herself against it.
“Nine months are going to be hard to wait. You know that, right?” Darcey gasped, tripping over her lacey underskirts.
“You have no idea,” Hadrian whispered into her ear. Instead of backing off and leading her down to the awaiting ball as he should have done, he leaned farther into her and kissed her.
Whether or not it was possible, Darcey was pushed even farther into the doors, almost absorbing them. The kiss, soft and warm and full of love, seemed to last forever. Darcey eventually began to wonder whether or not someone would come looking for them.
Almost as if he were reading her thoughts, Hadrian reluctantly pulled away. Eyes locked on hers, his hands slowly made their way down her arms to her hands. He pulled her away from the door and opened it, eyes still locked on hers.
The quiet moment shattered as they heard footsteps coming down the hall. They were heavy and tumbling, but heading their way nonetheless. Hadrian dropped her hands hastily and took a step away. He peered anxiously down the hall, straining to decipher how far away the person was.
Very suddenly, King Julian appeared around the corner, a customary wine bottle in his hand. He saw his son and future daughter in law standing in her doorway and laughed, his overweight belly jiggling.
“Ho-ho, you two! Hurry up there, we’re all awaiting your royal presences,” the jolly old king smiled. He was too dull to guess at what had just passed, too drunk to care. He tottered around the corner again and laughed happily down the hall at some merry joke of his own. His son waited until his embarrassment of a father and screw up as a king was out of sight before he turned back to Darcey.
“Come on. If we don’t follow him, he’ll come back. I couldn’t take that right now,” Hadrian said, a touch of irritation in his voice. He grabbed her arm and gallantly tucked it in his. He then led her down a maze of corridors to the grand ballroom, where over a hundred guests were awaiting their latest couple.
This society was very different from what an outsider might imagine. Far from the island casual that had been Darcey’s first introduction to her new home, this set of people seemed transplanted straight from the ballrooms of British royalty.
Illustrious gems lit up the wrists and throats of the ladies bedecked in brilliant silks and laces. The gentlemen all wore expensive tails with pomaded hair, gold and silver cufflinks and supple black leather shoes.
As Darcey and Hadrian walked out onto the most prominent balcony overlooking the towering ballroom, the musicians stopped playing. The few couples that danced froze and turned, the rest followed suit.
They were looking down on a hundred faces and carefully constructed smiles. This society was filled with pride at the sight of their two brightest stars coming together after seventeen years apart.
Darcey looked down at them, and could feel Hadrian’s eyes on her. She looked up into his and smiled. He responded in kind and squeezed her hand. From far below, they looked every inch the young royal couple in love. It wasn’t that far off the mark.
Darcey turned away from her handsome fiancé to peer once again into the crowd. Instead of a sea of distant faces, she could see more detail. She saw her parents in the center of the crowd, beaming up at her. Hadrian’s mother was with them; his father was off at the bar. She could see Dante and Mary Ann standing together near the band, presumably dancing.
Will was standing at the back of the room, almost wholly concealed by one of the same massive pillars that introduced her to Hadrian. He was holding the hand of a somewhat familiar girl. Her blonde hair was up in an elaborate bun, and Darcey could see the deep blue of her eyes even from her elevated perch. Her mermaid cut aquamarine gown was trailing behind her. She assumed that the girl was Carissa Romero.
The music began, and the couples began dancing again. Hadrian turned Darcey around and walked her into one of the thick velvet curtains at the entrance to their grand balcony. In the inner room of the box, they were completely hidden from their guests and censuring chaperones.
“You know, my love, you’re really missing something tonight,” Hadrian’s eyes sparkled. “And it’s kind of important.”
“Whatever do you mean, sweet prince?” Darcey’s shoulder blades met with the soft scarlet velvet backdrop lining the walls.
“I mean, beloved princess, that you seem a little…bare,” the joke was playing out clearly on Hadrian’s face, much to the irritation of Darcey.
“How, I wonder?”
“Perhaps this,” he said, pleasure radiating from his face as he pulled a small golden box from his jacket pocket, “will help.”
His eyes were filled with glee and love. He casually flicked back the lid to reveal a gorgeous row of diamonds and rubies beset on a silver and platinum band. The ring was so brilliant that illuminated both of their faces.
“Hadrian…it’s so…” Darcey gasped. She hadn’t expected anything at all like this. Her eyes welled with tears and she bent her head onto Hadrian’s muscled shoulder.
“Hey, hey. It’s ok,” Hadrian tipped her chin up to face her. “Darcey, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong, Hadrian. I just…it’s just…so beautiful. Are you really sure that this is ok?” The tears were still spilling down her cheeks.
“Darcey, you’re my fiancée. I love you, and it’s time that our peers know it,” Hadrian grabbed her left hand and, kissing it gently, placed the beautiful ring on her finger. He bowed his head gallantly.
When he rose, he cupped Darcey’s face in his palms. Gently wiping the tears from her eyes, he said: “Come on, love. We can’t have you ruining your pretty little face with all those tears.”
Hadrian kissed her gently and led her out into the empty menagerie. They walked together down the stairs. Darcey’s hair bounced around her tiara, the light playing at the diamonds on her throat and now on her finger. Hadrian’s finely constructed suit was such a bright black that it seemed to reflect the chandelier light.
Gentle applause greeted them when they reached the floor. The crowd parted as the young couple moved wordlessly to the center of the ballroom. The band struck up a soft waltz and they began dancing. Almost simultaneously their guests noticed the bright ring on their princess’s finger and let out a singular gasp.
Darcey didn’t notice any of them. All she could focus on was the man in front of her and the sweet sound of music encasing them. The world melted away and faded into her subconscious, which was exactly the way she wanted it.
Slowly her surroundings returned. She noticed for the first time how well she seemed to be dancing. Madam Rosita was doing an excellent job, she thought.
Eventually the nobility around them began swaying to the music again. The world stopped spinning and sound returned to Darcey’s ears. Over Hadrian’s shoulder, she could see her parents beaming at her. Ignoring them, she turned back to Hadrian’s happy eyes.
Her parents, however, were not to be ignored. Without losing their smiles, they parted the crowds and marched up to them. Thessilia grabbed her daughter’s arm; Miguel clasped his hand on his future son-in-law’s shoulder. They were pulled to a strangely familiar column and pushed back into its shadows. Suddenly it clicked: this was the pillar that she had first seen Hadrian behind.
Miguel seemed discontent with the pillar, and with a nod to his wife, Darcey and Hadrian were dragged farther into the depths of the palace. Darcey looked around in wonder at the places she saw. Through dark hallways lit only by candles in coves carved into the walls, down cold stone ramps, and into a black room. The floor was wood, and there was a distinctly wealthy smell about the room.
Her mother let go of her elbow. Darcey groped in the dark, looking for Hadrian. His hands met hers and he held her close. A small flicker of light appeared to Darcey’s left. It took a moment to register that her mother had lit a candle. Her father was on the other side of the room, silently lighting more. Slowly the room became darkly illuminated. It was not a place that one would choose to be seen in. Like something from a haunted house.
There were heavy maroon curtains hiding floor to ceiling windows. The walls were lined with built in bookcases. Dusty books covered in hard leather and copper bindings filled them. Several more were piled on thick, circular stained oak tables that looked like they’d be more at home in a medieval castle. Deep red suede settees lined the curtained windows and formed a large semicircle in front of a fireplace that looked almost devilish in appearance. Black marble shone in the candlelight, blood red stained wood flickered.
A hand reached forward and threw a lit match into the fireplace. In seconds the wood caught and roared to life. The light grew brighter and revealed the other people in the room.
The Dosciers and Palmas, Hulio Montoyez, and Hadrian’s parents sat on the smoky settees. Will and Mary Ann looked up when they saw Darcey. Will’s eyes darted to Hadrian’s arms around Darcey’s waist, then flew to the opposite side of the room. Darcey’s heart sank. Mary Ann saw this and smiled sympathetically at her best friend before the fire light shone on Darcey’s hand and her diamond ring sparkled, lighting up the room. Mary Ann gasped quietly and reached out for a pillow.
Hadrian’s arms held her tighter. Darcey glanced around the room. Every pair of eyes was on them. As Darcey looked around the familiar faces, there was one who was notably absent. Dante was nowhere to be found.
“Darcey, honey…” Thessilia began, but her voice cracked. She sank into a cushioned wing chair by the fireplace weeping, her face buried in her hands. Her father quickly knelt at her side, his hand rubbing her back.
“Daughter…the worst has happened. General Thane has started an army, and is sending them here. For you,” his eyes began to water. Darcey couldn’t seem to draw breath. She could feel Hadrian’s stomach and chest muscles twitch and tighten. His arms drew her closer still, turning her slightly away from them.
“Hadrian, please stop,” a voice from the bookshelves said. Darcey wheeled and saw Hadrian’s father, the ever drunken King Julian, looking as sober and stern as he ever had. His brow was furrowed; in his hand he held a book.
Hadrian’s jaw dropped, his arms fell from around Darcey. It was very possible that he had never seen his father so serious. She looked up and saw his eyes widen. It was frightening, watching the person she depended on most look so stunned.
“Dad, Mom…what’s going on?” Darcey’s voice squeaked out. “What is this place?”
“Darcey, darling, we don’t expect you to understand everything right away. It’s a little confusing,” Thessilia put a hand out to Darcey.
“This place,” Miguel stepped forward as he spoke, “is like our sanctuary. Nobody but those present know about it, except Dante Doscier, who is absent for one reason or another.”
Will whipped his head around and scanned the room. His slumped shoulders confirmed what Darcey’s father had said. She could not see into the whole of the room, but she knew and trusted Will’s body language.
“In any event, this is our safe house. It is invisible outside the castle. The windows are inconspicuous from the exterior, and tinted to prevent them seeing in. In any case, we keep the curtains drawn.” The tall, lean king walked to the fire and prodded it rather violently. “We trust you to keep this place a secret.”
“Of course we will, Dad,” Darcey spoke for herself and Hadrian, but Will and Mary Ann nodded their ascent. Hadrian wrapped his arm around her waist and brought her close. He then addressed his host: “We will, my King.”
“Very well. Now that we have sorted out our exact location, perhaps we could discuss the matter at hand? It is rather critical,” Miguel’s voice was strained and touched with anger. Without any more interruptions, he continued: “General Thane has sent a communication ahead of his armies. He intends to force a hostile takeover of Dijoubwe, taking us all hostage. Obviously, this must not be allowed.”
“Miguel, I have a suggestion,” Hadrian’s father, broke in. “Why not come and stay with us at our island? At least until the danger has passed from you own. We have an army where you refuse one, and we would be happy to offer their services for you and your family.”
“Julian. I could not take advantage of your hospitality like that. And what would become of our people? No, I could not leave them here.”
“Miguel, listen to reason. Your wife and daughter are at stake here. As soon as you come with us, my army will leave for Dijoubwe. They, along with your Royal Guard, will protect your citizens. Does not your family deserve safety? The future of both our nations,” Julian turned his gaze to Hadrian and Darcey, who blushed deeply, “depends on your decision.”
King Miguel paced the length of the generous room, his head down and his hands folded behind his back. His silk cape rustled over the ancient Persian carpets. Finally, he turned on his heel and walked quickly to the fireplace, where his remarkably studious counterpart stood.
“Julian, you are right. I cannot endanger Thessilia or my daughter. I have lost her once already, and I will not do so again. Yes, we will leave with you. When were you planning to push off?”
“Originally, we were to stay the year, if you recall. But under the present circumstances, perhaps it is better to stay only another day? We will leave tomorrow afternoon, if it is convenient to you. It allows you to pack what you need for comfort and to explain the situation to your people and guests.”
“You are a true friend, Julian! Yes, I think we will leave. Say tomorrow afternoon at four? That gives us plenty of time to get ready and to distribute the news.”
“Begging pardon for my interruption, but what are we and the Palmas to do?” Will’s father spoke up from his seat by the fire. Until now, he had held is head down in silent contemplation.
“Paulo, old man! You and Teresa and your sons, and Tiberius and Matilda and their daughter must come! We have plenty of space! And if you do not wish to stay in the palace, there are many grand villas we own on the beaches. You shall have your pick.”
“My King, you are very generous,” Mary Ann’s mother, Matilda, bent low in front of the tubby monarch. Her champagne colored dress fell in ruffles around her.
“Not at all, Countess. Now, I suggest that we all go back to the party. We’ve been gone long enough. Your guests will begin to wonder at our absence, Miguel. Let’s just be careful not to drink too much. We don’t want any hangovers for tomorrow; we’ll need to get up early.” Darcey’s attention was shifted from this change of residence plans and attempts on her kidnap to this new King Julian. He of all people was telling them not to drink! A flicker of rebellion told her to go and have several glasses of champagne, but one concerned look from Hadrian prevented her doing just that.
The meeting was dismissed and they made their way back to the raucous ballroom in pairs. Hadrian and Darcey were left in the big, dark room alone to contemplate this latest series of events.
“So, I’m going to live with you now, am I?”
“Apparently. I think you’ll like it on Marseille. It’s a place similar to yours, but it’s a larger island. We have prairie meadows, in which deer,” Hadrian winked, “and horses roam free. And instead of scarlet and gold, our national colors are violet and gold.”
Hadrian walked over to the heavy wooden doors and pushed them aside. “Shall we?”
“I think we shall, my darling,” Darcey smiled and took his offered arm. They were unsure of their whereabouts in the castle, and so followed the distant sound of the party. Eventually they stumbled into a familiar hallway and navigated themselves back to the ball.
Despite the news that she would be leaving her home again after being there only three months, Darcey had a pleasant time the rest of the night. She didn’t touch a drop of the fine champagne, and made sure to keep an early curfew. She saw her friends and family do the same, and knew that she was doing the right thing.
The mighty stone clock at the entrance of the ballroom struck midnight. Making the socially acceptable excuse that true ladies tire quickly and need their rest, she stole away to her bedroom. Tania was waiting to help her undress. Over the months, they had grown quite close.
“And well, how was your evening, Miss?” Tania asked quietly as she yanked open the bodice of Darcey’s dress.
“Ah, as good as can be expected. We danced and laughed and had a rather good time,” Darcey smiled serenely. She didn’t want to upset her lady’s maid with undue worry, but she wanted to take the girl with her to Marseille. Hadrian had assured her all manner of servants, but Tania really knew her ways.
“Miss, are you alright?” Tania’s soft whisper broke the deep revere Darcey found herself in.
“Oh! Yes…I was just thinking,” Darcey took a deep breath. She would rather ask Tania to come than to force her. “Tomorrow my family and I, along with the Dosciers and Palmas, are leaving for Marseille, the island that the Sanchez’ rule. We are staying for a considerable period of time. I was wondering if you would like to accompany me there. You are my favorite maid, and you would be well treated. You would have girls under you, and your pay would double.”
“Oh, Miss, I…I would love to go with you! If you’re quite sure it’s alright,” Tania’s face lit up. It was quite possible that she had never been off the island.
“Of course it’s alright. You are to be treated exceptionally well,” Darcey smiled in relief as her nightgown was yanked over her head. She was thrilled that Tania wanted to come. She was sure it would make her feel more at home.
Tania left shortly afterwards. Darcey realized that her maid would need to pack her things and get some sleep too.
There was a knock at her door. It was becoming almost habitual to open it and see Hadrian on the other side, usually in some dashing suit. This time, though, nobody was there. She stepped out into the hallway, pulling her silk wrap closer around her. Footsteps ran down the hall away from her. It sent a chill up her spine.
Darcey walked quietly back into her room and shut the door. She was scared and alone in this palace with an army bent on kidnapping her. Perhaps it was wiser to keep Tania around. Darcey could trust her.
She reached out and plucked the handsome dial phone from her bedside and rung up the quick service number for Tania. The maid picked up rather slowly and groggily asked what she could do. Darcey must have woken her up. Feeling bad, but scared, the young princess asked if her maid would mind spending the night in her room. A moment’s pause was broken by Tania’s unenthusiastic consent.
Minutes later a knock rang from her door. Darcey opened it and saw her tired maid in a cotton nightie standing there. Darcey rushed her inside, locking the heavy doors behind them. She set up a little bed for her maid on the nearby settee and crawled back into bed. Perhaps now she would sleep. And eventually, with her maid drifting off on the nearby plush sofa, she did.
Morning came quickly and fiercely. The skies were grey and the seas were angry. It seemed like the island was enraged that its princess would twice be plucked from its grasp.
Darcey looked at the foot of her bed and saw all of her clothes, including gowns not yet worn, packed into several dozen French cases. Tania was standing by with four little cloth sacks which held all of her earthly belongings. When she saw her mistress was awake, she quickly set about getting her cleaned and dressed.
“You know, Tania, I really appreciate all of this. I mean, you’re leaving your friends and family behind for me,” Darcey looked into her maid’s deep brown eyes. Her chestnut hair was unruly, having yet to be done. Darcey dismissed her loyal maid and told her to be back by two in the afternoon. Tania bowed her way out of the room, leaving her bags behind.
Darcey sighed and walked out onto her patio. It seemed like only yesterday she’d gotten here. She hadn’t even explored a third of the island, and now she was going to be whisked away again! But at least this time she’d have her parents and Hadrian with her.
“Darcey?” A voice called from behind her. It was caring, soft, but she could hear that fire just below the surface. It was Hadrian’s voice.
“I’m out here…thinking,” she sighed again and leaned out on the balustrade. Hadrian walked up behind her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders.
“It’s kind of funny, really,” Hadrian smiled a little. “I’ve had to play tour guide on your island, and now again on mine.”
“Yeah, well, hopefully I’ll be back home soon. Now that I know this place, I don’t think I could stay away for very long,” Darcey didn’t look into Hadrian’s face, but out at the sea. It had calmed down greatly. Instead of the violent waves, modest ones crashed onto the white beaches. The sky was a perfectly pristine shade of blue. Birds dashed in and out of the trees and soared into the cloudless sky.
Looking out at this paradise she called home and thinking about how short her time here was, tears sprang to her eyes. It was unfair. Just because some insane freak with a manifest destiny complex was playing Caesar, she had to leave her home.
“Love, we’ve got to get the airport soon,” Hadrian said quietly. He was looking at her, his dark eyes concerned. “You’ve got all your clothes, right?”
“What? Oh, yeah. My cave-like closet is cleaned out. There isn’t a diamond left behind.” Darcey’s voice was touched with saddened, but the great majority of it dripped mockery and sarcasm. It stung, listening to her when she was like this. “Let’s just go. I don’t want to look at this place anymore.”
Hadrian visibly winced, but took the arm she offered him and allowed himself to be lead to the hall. In the long corridor, Darcey yanked back her hand and marched angrily in front of Hadrian, who followed along confused but obedient.
When they reached the palace steps, Hadrian yanked back her arm and pushed her forward. They needed to at least feign happiness if this plan would work. Darcey was making it difficult, but Hadrian’s eighteen years of governesses and rules had taught him well. He maneuvered her into their awaiting private carriage before turning and making an excuse for her behavior to their parents and onlookers.
He jumped in the carriage and slumped down across from her, waiting for one of the liverymen to close the door. One of them must have finally figured out that nobody else was getting in, because the silken door closed and the gold latch clicked shut. Hadrian wouldn’t move his hand from his chin or his eyes from the window, Darcey wouldn’t stop staring straight through him with her arms folded over her chest.
The carriage lurched forward. The great white beasts carrying their mistress and her betrothed could not understand why they were travelling to the nest of the great shining birds at so odd an hour, nor could they make out the fierce whispers coming from inside the carriage they were pulling. Given the chance, the mighty horses might have decided to listen. It was a conversation that would no doubt prove interesting. But it was not their work to eavesdrop, and with the chance firmly behind them, they pulled the coach around the great metal bird.
Their companions joined them shortly, bearing the pairs of kings and queens, and a small manner of nobility and their kin. The horses watched as great bags by the dozen were taken off the roofs the carriages and unloaded from an endless train of carts behind them and piled into the belly of the strange flying contraption.
The horses were turning back around to the palace stables when Darcey took her customary seat by the window. The seating arrangement was now different than it had been her first time on this plane. She was permitted her seat, and Hadrian his across the table from her, but her father now took the grand leather chair overseeing all and her mother stretched out on the lounger. Hadrian’s parents were huddled on one of the leather loveseats. Will and Mary Ann’s families were trying to get settled in the remaining chairs.
There was also a change in attendance. Count Ramses Diego, the tutor of crest reading, was among them. So was Madam Rosita, Darcey’s dance instructor. Tania was lurking about somewhere, probably trying to arrange the bedrooms so that everyone would be comfortable. Other maids belonging to the women of the group were milling about uselessly. Hulio Montoyez was still with them, although he was currently sitting in the pilot’s seat. But for all the confusion, Darcey could still pick out one dark figure not in attendance. Dante was missing.
Darcey didn’t have time to ponder this disturbing fact. Her father rose to his feet and boldly interrupted the chatter. “I know that many of our friends have been left behind. King Julian has allowed us use of his plane to send for them when we land. They will be with us in several days.”
Still, it was odd. Why allow the tutors to come and the eldest son of Count and Countess Doscier to stay behind? No matter, she thought. He and the others would be with them soon.
Darcey scanned her surroundings once again before settling back into her seat. Hadrian’s legs stretched out under the table, brushing hers. There was very minimal chatter, but King Julian still thought it fit to loudly call the little party to order to make further announcements.
“I mean no disrespect to our fair hosts turn guests, but Marseille is considerably more formal than Dijoubwe. The tunics and island dresses that we have so enjoyed here are not what the Marseille society will accept. The gowns and suits that we have donned to attend the Martinaque balls are the norm, and must be worn each day,” King Julian surveyed his audience. With the exception of his family, they were all dressed like the islanders that they were. “With that in mind, we will be providing each of you full use of our palace tailors. You will most likely need them…”
Hadrian looked away, disgusted by his father’s crass speech. Of course it was true, but that didn’t make it less tactless or embarrassing. Darcey’s face flamed red and she turned to look out her window. What he would have given to usher her into one of the private rooms of her plane and just talk her through this.
Suddenly, with a voice as cool and calm as ice, she turned back to her offensive future father in law and spoke. “On behalf of the dignitaries attending to this trip with my family and myself, I offer you our sincerest gratitude. I only hope that they are up to such a job. Providing so many nobles with such grand clothing must be a trial on even the best of workers. I would not wish to overstrain them, as they so clearly have their hands full already.”
Hadrian’s anger dissipated instantly. He worked with difficulty to sustain the smile playing at the corners of his mouth. While his pudgy father hadn’t figured it out, he had been neatly insulted. It was just and fair payback for the dumpy insult he had so cavalierly tossed on Darcey and her entourage.
Julian’s face showed no comprehension of the contempt his son’s bride exhibited for him. Jolene was embarrassed, but not angry at Darcey. She seemed to understand her husband’s faults aplenty. It clearly showed in all of her movements, even the minutest flitter of her amethyst eyes that she desperately wanted her husband to stop talking and sit down.
The rest of the party smirked in acknowledgement of the deserved impudence but said nothing. Twenty thousand feet above the ocean was not the place to start up a brawl, no matter how justified. In any event, they would be landing in a few hours and it would be unwise to rile tempers just yet.
Darcey got up and slid through the narrow divide between the living area of the luxury jet and the bar room. Hadrian followed her after several minutes had passed. The older travellers smiled knowingly, which irritated him. His opinion of society was not high, and this sample of nobility was not improving it any.
Hadrian silently closed the Japanese style pocket doors and turned. His dark haired fiancée was sitting hunched on a bar stool, head on her arms. She wasn’t crying, but instead sitting perfectly still, which unnerved him more than tears ever could. Even her back didn’t slowly rise and fall with her breathing. It sent a shiver down his back. He had never known, even as a child, how to comfort someone. This was a new and scary experience. But then, hadn’t everything been new and scary the past few months?
“Darcey…are you alright?” Hadrian winced at his own words. They were blunt and stupid; the words of someone who did not care enough to ask a proper question. He did care – he loved her. He just couldn’t verbalize it.
Silence met his inquiry. He stood in the middle of the small room awkwardly, hands in pockets. Slowly he shifted from one foot to the other, trying to think of something to say. This was uncomfortable, to say the least. He would have given anything to know what to say. Eventually he just wrapped his arms around her and rocked her slowly back and forth.
Hadrian could see the tear stains on Darcey’s cheeks. They smudged her mascara and ran down her chin and neck. He rubbed his thumb back and forth over her chin, breaking the flow of tears. He bent his head forward and kissed the crown of her head. Slowly Darcey began to move. She drew a broken breath and heaved herself off of the bar counter.
Hadrian scooped her up in his arms and sat down on the silken settee in the corner of the small compartment, gently placing her on his lap. Darcey turned her head into his chest, burying her nose in the folds of his shirt.
She smiled and breathed deeply, taking in his sweet smell. Hadrian looked down and saw her grin, but kept his straight face. He pulled his head up and rubbed the back of her neck gently with a hand. The other wrapped around her waist and rested on her back. He tried desperately to keep a straight face, lest Darcey see and figure out his plan.
Hadrian kept rubbing the nape of her neck and back in a slow, circular motion, for several seconds before he tightened his muscles and closed his arms around her. Darcey squealed and looked up, caught in his embrace. For an instant their eyes met, and he loosed his grip. Darcey took hold of this moment of weakness and pushed off his chest, tumbling to the floor. She laughed at the adorably confused look on his face.
Darcey jumped up and walked backwards toward the bar. Hadrian seemed to realize just what was going on, and launched off the settee. He grinned and reached out for her, but she ducked. Sliding back to the pocket doors, she winked and slipped through before leaving him alone in the bar compartment. Amused and bewildered, he poured himself a drink and sat down on a bar stool to think. His solitude did not last long. Shortly after his fiancée left, his father came rumbling in.
“Well, well, son! How is your princess doing?” King Julian thundered. He slapped his son roughly on the back and turned to see what varieties of liquor his contemporaries stocked. Satisfied, he chose one and, not bothering to pour it into a glass or even a decanter, pulled out the stopper and threw back his head. The amber liquid drained quickly from the bottle.
Hadrian watched his father in disgust. He was so vile, so unrefined. Hadrian wondered how his mother had ever chosen the blacksmith’s son as her husband. It was just incomprehensible to Hadrian that his father had ever had anything to offer Jolene. But of course, he would be told the story. Every time his father had the chance, he would rampage on and on of how the good princess Jolene met and married poor Julian. And when the liquor was gone, that was exactly the story he was told.
“Well then, my boy! You seem to have won over the fair princess Darcey, have you not? Ah, you take after your old man. Say, that reminds me of a story! A story about how your mother came to be my wife.” The fat old man garbled, spitting as he talked. Hadrian got up and moved farther away from his father. This did not faze the aging monarch, as he merely turned his head slightly to look at his son while he began.
“You see, my boy, back when I was your age, my father was a baker. He would deliver rolls and such to the palace kitchens. He was so very good, in fact, that old King Sanchez hired him to work as head pastry chef. Of course, lad, this was quite an honour back then. Not everybody who applied got the job! But he was the best there was. Not a slacker, no sir. Your granddad worked harder than any man there ever was.
“Now, he had been working in the palace for a little over a year when I came to apprentice as a groom there. I would spend half my free time wandering the grounds and hiding behind trees, trying to watch the nobles pass. I hadn’t a clue that Jolene even existed. She wasn’t much of a people person, you know. Preferred to stay in her room. But one fine afternoon, her folks dragged her outside and made her take a spin in the garden. It was meant to be good for her.
“Well, son, I was hiding up in a tree when she came out, and I almost fell out of it! I had never seen an angel so beautiful as your mother. She was stubborn, and clearly not enjoying herself, poor dear. She hadn’t done her hair, and her dress was old. But still, she was a sight. I knew right then and there that I had to have her.
“Of course, my boy, you’re lucky. You are a prince, so you can choose whoever you want. I, on the other hand, had limitations. I was a mere groom, and she the future ruler of Marseille. I had no chance, I knew that. But I thought that maybe, just maybe, I could pass for something more.” Julian sighed and clanked a bottle of Madeira against a cut glass decanter. A minute passed as he poured himself another drink and downed it. When he continued, it was with the same fluidity, albeit moderately altered due to his alcohol intake. “So I changed. I became Count Julian Dontez. I pretended to be a visiting noble from some distant land. And for some time, it worked. Until the grand banquet, of course.
“That night I shall never forget. My father, who I hadn’t seen in the three months I had been in the palace, came bursting through the doors from the kitchen to the dining hall, leading the dinner parade. He didn’t know what I was up to. Poor old man, I gave him quite a shock. He saw me sitting there, at the right hand of the crown princess Jolene, and came rushing up to me. The old boy had tears in his eyes. He came right up and started hugging me and saying that he was so worried…all the while, I sat there torn between anger and embarrassment.
“To make a long and painful story short, they found out. Everyone found out my little secret. That I was really the peasant son of Juan Dontez, that I was a groom in the royal stables, and that I had been masquerading as a count. I think that the only one who didn’t hate me at that moment was your mother,” Julian looked into his son’s eyes and held them. Hadrian was shocked to discover that, in his disgust of his father, he had never looked him in the eyes. They were a shocking green, almost unearthly. But unlike Darcey’s heaven sent eyes the color of polished emeralds, these were dark and hard. They reflected no light, emitted no emotion. They were cold and silent. A dark pit, they welcomed nobody and betrayed all. Looking into his father’s eyes was like looking into a darkened mirror. They had no lustre, no quality. They were just green. A haunted, despicable green. Hadrian had to look away.
“Well. Your mother came and found me in the dungeon and broke me out. Said that the last few months were the greatest she’d ever had. The plucky lass then went and petitioned her folks, and we were married then and there. But there was a downside. There always is in these tales. My father went missing. To this day, I’ve never heard a word from him. He’s probably off getting drunk and enjoying life, as he always used to want to. Well, cheers to him, the old coot.”
With that, the lumbering king staggered to his feet, worse for wear and smelling of old alcohol, wandered back to the main area of the plane. Hadrian remained behind, contemplating about everything he had heard. His father could not have possibly pulled it off for long. And his mother…Hadrian was sure that his mother wouldn’t have agreed to such a thing. She was forever being shamed by her husband. It was clear that he was an unrefined, considerably rotund fool, but whether or not he was capable of putting on such a masquerade for three months was not to be seen.
Of course, that was quite a condensed version of Hadrian’s parents’ marriage. He knew the story off by heart. When his parents married, Julian took Jolene’s name. Her parents retired to their vacation home in Monaco, and King Sanchez took over. Although he had received letters, Hadrian had never actually met his grandparents. He knew his father’s mother was dead, and had been for some time. But he still held out a hope that his paternal grandfather was still out there somewhere, perhaps in the dark recesses of Marseille itself.
The minutes ticked away, and before Hadrian could finish his thoughts, he was being called back to the passenger cabin to seat himself for landing. He was lead through the pocket doors back to the main hub of chatter and sly smiles, trying to meet his mother’s eyes. She blatantly refused to look at her son, so obviously that Hadrian couldn’t help but notice.
Despaired by his lack of success with his mother, the young prince sought out a pair of shocking eyes that he knew would receive him; that of his betrothed, the princess Darcey. After very little silent entreaty, she turned her gaze upward and smiled at him, wordlessly inviting him to the seat across from hers. Grinning, he sat.
“So, Prince Hadrian,” Darcey began. Clearly she had noticed Julian’s prolonged absence and guessed its meaning. “Are you excited to be going home?”
“Indeed I am, Princess Darcey,” Hadrian winked. Whatever it was about him, every smug expression, every haughty facial feature drew Darcey to him. It was magnetism, and she could not argue with it for long. “It has been far too long since I have been home.”
“Oh! But has your foray on Martinaque been so unpleasant?” Darcey’s eyes sparkled. Talking like this, like a proper lady and gentleman of court, always made her laugh. She just prayed that she would not break down until she was safely away from the adult eyes. She and Hadrian always did this around the nobles. It was a game.
“Of course not, my princess. But I must admit to missing my home. Am I not entitled to?” Hadrian raised an eyebrow, expectant of a cheeky remark hidden behind subtle propriety. His expectations, however, went unmet. At that precise moment, the glowing red light above the cockpit door flashed, indicating they were to fasten their seatbelts for descent.
Gradually the mighty metal beast dropped out of the turquoise sky onto a black runway lined with lights. It was the middle of the afternoon, but still they glowed like stars. Darcey looked out the window next to her, observing this new land. One day she would be its queen. It was a frightening thought, but one she could handle, as long as Hadrian was with her.
The plane gently deposited its royal passengers on the ground, careful to avoid any undue damage. Slowly it was unloaded, its cargo transferred to carriages spookily similar to the ones who gave the jet its charges mere hours before.
Darcey threw a backward glance over her shoulder at the airplane as it was led into the hangar. One day she would be able to fly that great metal beast, but that day was in the future. In the present, all she could do was dream. Dream and hope that one day her life would be more than a political game of chess, moving from one square to another in an effort to come out on top.
Sighing, she allowed herself to be lifted into a rich carriage adorned with golden tassels and amethysts encrusted in every focal point. A delicate bouquet of violets and lavender was waiting for her on the indigo velvet cushions. All around her were shades of plum and orchid. These islanders took their national colors very seriously.
Smiling, Hadrian took the place across from her. One of the footmen closed the door, and the coachman pushed the horses into a rolling trot. Darcey rested her head on the plush panels and stared out the window, watching the lush greenery pass. She could feel Hadrian’s eyes on her, but studiously ignored them.
Darcey knew that if she looked at Hadrian, the tears she had fought back the entire time since her parents announced their departure would burst forth. And she was entirely set with not ruining Hadrian’s homecoming. He had waited months for this, and it was not in her heart to spoil it for him.
But Prince Hadrian Sanchez was not to be ignored. He would not allow it, nor was he accustomed to it. The smile left his face, only to be replaced by an irate frown. Darcey thought about saying something, anything, but it would only break the floodgates she had worked so hard to build.
Finally Hadrian had had enough. He twisted himself off his plush seat and landed on Darcey’s, mere inches away. Darcey turned her face away from him and stared out the window, resting her head on her gloved fist. To Hadrian, this lack of acknowledgement was not to be borne. He wrapped one arm around Darcey’s waist while the other scooped up her knees. Darcey tried to fight, but found herself being forcibly dragged onto her fiancé’s lap.
Hadrian grinned and tried to make Darcey smile, but to no avail. His princess was waning in her conviction, but she still kept her face away from his. This Darcey confused Hadrian. She was silent, cold. His arms went slack and dropped away from the dress pinned to her slim frame. Darcey tried to reach the seat where Hadrian had sat mere moments ago, but as she rose from his lap, the carriage hit a stone and threw its precious passenger in the air.
Darcey landed on the narrow floor of the carriage with a jarring thud. Her hair fell out of place and her tiara slid down her face. For several breathless moments she laid still on the floor, grasping for anything to steady her. She suddenly flipped her curls over her shoulder and let out a burst of laughter which echoed against the roomy carriage.
Hadrian had been worried, but Darcey’s laugh calmed his nerves. She allowed him to help her up into her old seat just as they were approaching the palace grounds. Darcey just had time to look out the window and admire the sight. Like her own home, Hadrian’s massive palace took her breath away.
A huge, semicircular group of marble pillars reached for the shimmering stone top which seemed to scrape the sky. The grand white stairs leading up to the palace glittered in the sun. The palace itself was mostly hidden from Darcey’s view, but here and there she could spot mammoth picture windows and grandiose columns holding it all together. Shades of purple gossamer and silk snaked around the columns and down the stairs, dancing in the wind. The white limestone drive leading up to the palace was smooth enough to skate on. It was so polished that it reflected the light of the sun back at it. The whole, stretching complex was surrounded by a line of polished iron fencing, the ends of which Darcey could not see.
It was to this paradise retreat that the fleet of carriages stopped. The royalty inside them alighted and walked proudly up the stairs. The nobility left behind turned and headed back down the elaborate drive to where their own private villas were awaiting them.
Darcey could not stop her awe from shining through her face as she was lead through beautifully decorated Grecian halls lined with ancient murals and heirloom tapestries. Cherubs and carven images of rulers past stared down at the little procession with unseeing but beautiful eyes. Brass shields and spears lined the walls at convenient intervals. Broad beams of sunlight graced the polished marble tiles, floating gently through the seamless glass windows that stretched from the sparkling floor to the arching ceiling.
Eventually the grand hall split into three identical, although smaller, passages. The center hall would lead to the main ballroom, dining hall, and to the back of the palace. The left led to the bedrooms and private studies. The right, however, appeared abandoned. Its glorious windows were blotted out by heavy plum velvet curtains. Cobwebs were starting to form in its nooks and crannies, while a determined grey cloud settled inches above the tiled floor. To Darcey’s eye, it looked haunted.
Julian and Jolene led their guests down the left hallway to their suites. While passing their own, Darcey could see through a crack in the massive door just what pleasures this family's palace afforded. A massive white marble bed was covered in a trio of thick down mattresses. Purple gossamer and silk sheets were neatly arranged and folded underneath an expansive series of silk and velvet pillows.
The raised bed platform gave way to a glistening sitting area. The carved stone settees were arranged around a small table upon which sat a silver tray with all the necessities for an afternoon tea.
There were two individual bathrooms and a closed closet Darcey was sure would rival her own in size, if not contents. But it was the view from the open terrace doors which stole her breath and drew her to a halt. It opened onto the ocean, like hers did at her own palace, but this ocean seemed entirely different from the gentle, warm waters she was used to. The dark, harsh blue and chopped waves startled her with their violence and persistence. They were framed with smooth marble pillars around which was draped a series of ochre and indigo banners flapping harshly in the wind.
Others seemed to have ignored Darcey’s lack of movement, as they continued on without her. Only Hadrian realized her absence, and went back for her. Gently he picked up her hand and led the mesmerize Darcey away to her own suite, equally beautiful but without such a cutting ocean view.


It had taken a week, but Tania had finally finished putting away Darcey’s clothes in her new suite when her mistress decided she wanted to be alone. Darcey dismissed her gently and told her to go look around, thanking her again for coming. Then the young princess looked again around her room, pleasantly surprised but still aching for the royal suite’s entrancing view.
Sighing, she twisted her hand around one of her bedposts and admired the beauty of her rooms. The purple décor had been kept to a minimum of several flowing banners on the terrace and pockets of bright violets here and there. In its place, a ferocious slash of red took over. The sheets and pillows, many banners and even some of the artwork, had been redone in red. It was supposed to make her feel at home, but what she felt was loss and fear.
The loss she supposed was natural. In the past few months she had lost the family she thought was hers for sixteen years, and the new home she thought she would never leave. But the fear surprised her. What was there to be afraid of? If Darcey could answer that, she had a feeling that her life would settle into place.
A knock on the door brought her thoughts back to earth. Fully expecting her visitor to be Hadrian, she formed a knowing, somewhat naughty grin on her face. But instead of the muscular, tall boy she was expecting, she saw the petite girl she had been friends with since they were in diapers. She had tears in her eyes, and her arms were wrapped protectively around herself.
“Mary Ann!” Darcey gasped. She hadn’t expected to see her, and the realization of who she wasn’t stung. Composing herself, Darcey replaced her grin with a frown of love and deep concern. Then she opened her arms and ushered her best friend into her suite, ready to hear all of her deepest troubles. After all, that was what friends were for.
“Oh, honey, what’s wrong? Are you ok?” Darcey asked softly, gently dropping down on her bed next to the hysterical Mary Ann. For several minutes all that could be heard was Mary Ann’s sobbing. Darcey was unsure what to do. Mary Ann was always talking. When she wasn’t, it unnerved everyone around her.
“Darcey, I don’t know what to do!” Mary Ann wailed. She tipped back onto Darcey’s elaborate set of crimson embroidered pillows and gasped. “I thought everything would work out. I thought… I thought maybe we could still pull it off.”
“Work what out, Mary Ann? Are you ok?” Darcey wrapped her arms around her distressed friend. Gently, slowly, Darcey rocked the sobbing girl. What seemed like hours passed before Mary Ann could choke back her tears and explain what had happened.
“Dante and I…had a fight,” Mary Ann said, trying desperately to control the flow of tears down her face.
“So? Honey, it doesn’t matter!” Darcey rubbed Mary Ann’s back in slow, circular motions. It always helped her high strung friend to relax.
“It doesn’t matter? Darcey, of course it matters!” Mary Ann was in no position to be comforted. Darcey had no idea what the real problem behind this was, but from the way Mary Ann was bawling, it wasn’t long before she would find out.
“Mary Ann, why does it matter? Why does it matter if you and Dante had a fight?” Darcey asked quietly, mindful of her friend’s generally over the top reactions to simple questions.
“Because, Darcey…because I love him.”
Mary Ann’s simple statement almost knocked Darcey off her feet. Mary Ann and Dante? They had always seemed like mutual friends, content when the other was around, but just as easy to be alone. Scenes from her past, from her memory of Dante, came tumbling back into her mind. Dante fighting with Will over who, she had thought at the time, would get to date her. Dante holding her hand on that first flight to Dijoubwe. Was it possible that he and Mary Ann had been together all that time?
“You…oh,” Darcey fumbled over her words, trying desperately to save what little self-control she had left.
“So what am I supposed to do?” Mary Ann whined, sinking back into Darcey’s plush down bed.
“Mary Ann, I honestly have no idea. I mean, how long have you two been, uh, you know. Together?” It was uncomfortable, talking to Mary Ann about a boy who had so recently tried to win Darcey’s heart. Or at least that’s what she thought at the time.
“I don’t know, Darcey. Around two years?” Mary Ann sniffed, trying gallantly to hold back her tears.
“Oh,” Darcey said quietly. Two years was such a long time. And there had been so many clues to dissuade the idea! Will had said that Dante had a girlfriend in the mountains back home…and another one on Obweji. Had Will been lying to her?
Darcey softly left the bed and wandered to her balcony, watching the little people scurrying around beneath her, oblivious to her observations. They were all of them so small, so insignificant to her, but they each led their own lives separate from hers. They did not know of her inner demons, and she of theirs. But surely they had them. Everyone had to.
“Darcey?” a voice behind her quietly called. The foundling princess did not need to turn to know that it was Mary Ann, eager to reanimate her sympathy. Her back tightened at the thought. She drew her shoulders together and straightened, closing her eyes but refusing to turn and meet her friend’s.
“Get out.” Her voice said, with all the cool poise of a summer thunderstorm. Her mind and body had gotten hard, her heart iced over. The warmth and love died from her eyes, replaced by severe judgement and distrust.
“What? Why would you…come on, Darcey. Can we talk?” Mary Ann’s voice spoke of anxiety and unease, but Darcey knew her countenance would be as calm and collected as it ever was.
“You may address me as Princess, or My Lady. But now, Lady Palma, I insist upon your leaving me to myself.” Darcey turned and stared down her friend. Her green eyes flashed a dangerous fire, ready and willing to devour every positive emotion she once held dear. And she was on the verge of letting it do just that.
A minute passed as the two girls stared at each other, one desperate to understand what had happened, the other desolate of her former feelings. Finally, Mary Ann took a step forward and reached for Darcey’s arm. Before she had even covered half the distance, the dangerous girl opened her mouth and screamed. “Guards! Guards! Take Lady Palma away from me. She seems to misunderstand which of us is more consequential.”
Darcey watched as two burly men in violet and gold came forward and each took one of Mary Ann’s arms. They led her out of the glorious bedroom, while three more followed behind. She put up no fight, but continually threw glares back at her princess, demanding to know her crime. Darcey just stared through her, entirely unwilling to even entertain the thought. The winds picked up and flew her robes and hair before her face, whipping around her like flames devouring their victim. She watched as her former friend was dragged off into uncertainty. Turning back to the balcony, she once again watched the street peddlers and palace servants, but in a new and deadly light.
Darcey was a princess. Someday soon, all of this would be hers, and she would make absolutely sure that no one, not even a trifling childhood companion, would ever forget it.
 
-end of part III-

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Tag der Veröffentlichung: 25.06.2011

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