The Princess Pact: A Twist on Rumpelstiltskin (The Four Kingdoms Book 3) Read online

  The Princess Pact

  A Twist on Rumpelstiltskin

  MELANIE CELLIER

  Luminant Publications

  Making Life Brighter

  THE PRINCESS PACT – A TWIST ON RUMPELSTILTSKIN

  Copyright © 2017 by Melanie Cellier

  First edition published in 2017

  by Luminant Publications

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, transmitted, stored in, or introduced into a database or retrieval system, in any form, or by any means, without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  ISBN 978-0-9806963-7-0

  Luminant Publications

  PO Box 203

  Glen Osmond, South Australia 5064

  [email protected]

  http://www.melaniecellier.com

  Cover Designed by Phatpuppy Art

  Main Title Font by CuttyFruty

  For Faith

  this book will always be connected with you in my mind

  and while I didn’t get to know you on this earth

  you will remain in my heart until we meet again in eternity

  Contents

  Fear

  Part 1 - The Truth

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Part 2 - Loyalty

  The Palace

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Part 3 - Rebellion

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Note from the author

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  Fear

  The dark forest was rushing by so fast she couldn’t make out details of the individual trees. She tried to pump her legs faster but the bundle in her arms hampered her movements. She clutched it tighter and risked a glance over her shoulder.

  She wasn’t looking for help. She had already made that mistake once before. She had thought then that a godmother might come to her aid, but a monster had come instead. The very same nightmare that now pursued her.

  Pain was shooting up and down her legs, and her mouth ached from the cold air she gasped into her exhausted lungs. Fear could only push her body so far, and she had nearly reached her limit.

  Just when she thought she would collapse, a dark figure loomed in front of her. She screamed, swerving and falling to the ground. She twisted as she fell in order to protect her burden and landed hard against an outstretched root.

  She instantly recognised the silhouette in front of her, and her thoughts rushed back to the small attic room three years ago. She could feel the rough straw in her fingers and see the dawn threatening through the windows.

  And then the glint from the gold that was nothing compared to the avaricious gleam in the eyes of the man who kept her company. She had distrusted him even then, but she had been desperate for help from wherever she could get it. And she had been sure, with the bold certainty of youth, that she would find a way around his bargain.

  And so the pact had been made.

  “Why do you flee from me?” he asked. His voice had lost none of its arrogant assurance. “There really is no point, you know. You can’t possibly escape me. A bargain is a bargain.”

  She looked down at the precious baby in her arms who was somehow still asleep.

  “I’ll be coming for her,” he said, “when the time is right. So keep a careful eye out for me.”

  She woke, her eyes springing open and her heart racing, his incongruous high-pitched giggle echoing through her mind.

  It was just a dream. It was just a dream, she told herself, but the terror lingered.

  She knew that it wasn’t just a dream. It was a warning. One day he would come, and he would claim what was his.

  A pact is a pact, after all.

  Part 1 - The Truth

  Chapter 1

  Princess Marie Christina Adrienne Camille of Northhelm was bored. She did her best to keep an expression of dutiful interest on her face, but inside she was sighing. The council meeting had already been going for two hours, and the current discussion on trade regulations couldn’t have been more dull.

  She knew that Northhelmians were famous for their careful attention to detail, and she even knew it was a strength – one that kept her kingdom in peace and prosperity. But ever since she had returned from her visit to the neighbouring kingdom of Arcadia, she couldn’t quite suppress her restlessness.

  Several times she had been forced to restrain herself from asking some particularly serious courtier if they had ever just had fun. She could imagine the shocked look she would receive, and the stories that would immediately circulate about the flighty princess. So far, she had managed to keep the words from tumbling out, but she was sure that one of these days she was going to slip up.

  For the past hour, her attention had been focused on the empty chair across the table. Her brother usually filled it, but he had complained to her earlier in the day that the agenda looked unusually tedious. And now his chair sat suspiciously empty.

  She had spent the last sixty minutes trying to guess what excuse he had used for his absence. As the minutes ticked by, her ideas became more and more outrageous, so she was confident her brother had used none of them. The heir to the throne of Northhelm took his position with the seriousness and diligence it demanded.

  Which meant he must have come up with something truly inspired.

  Marie gave up trying to guess the excuse and allowed herself to focus on the most important aspect of the situation: his betrayal of his own sister. William should have known that the sibling code required her inclusion in his brilliance. Surely his excuse could have been stretched to cover them both.

  She gave another internal sigh because she knew perfectly well that her brother would charm himself back into her good graces within minutes. She had always had a soft spot for him, and he was well aware of it.

  Just as she was trying to harden herself towards him in preparation, the double doors to the council room flew open with such force that they hit the walls with a loud bang.

  Marie jumped, but most of the councillors merely flinched, turning disapproving faces towards the intruder.

  William strode into the room, and Marie noted with interest that his riding boots were splattered with mud. As tradition dictated, the crown prince was an active member of one of Northhelm’s cavalry regiments, and since he was wearing his uniform, Marie guessed that he had somehow orchestrated a change in his shifts.

  As far as excuses went, it was beautiful in its simplicity. And she could hardly fault him for leaving her out o
f it. Not for the first time, Marie wished that there was some similar tradition that required a Northhelmian princess to join a regiment. Marie was certain that she would make an excellent officer.

  “William.” Her father’s voice was, as always, calm and measured.

  “I’m very sorry to have missed the start of the meeting.” William gave a respectful bow to the assembled councillors. “I have just returned from patrol with news and felt that the council needed to hear my report without delay.”

  The head councillor nodded and gestured William to take his usual seat. A footman appeared from the hallway and closed the doors behind the prince.

  Marie struggled to repress her frustration. Was all of this formality really necessary? If William had arrived to tell them that the palace was on fire, she felt certain that he would still have been expected to calmly take his seat before delivering the news. She allowed a tiny sigh to escape her lips, carefully timing it to be hidden by the scraping of William’s chair.

  “Your report, Your Highness?” asked the head councillor once William was settled in his seat and the doors were firmly closed.

  “This morning, a small group of foresters arrived in Northgate. They claim to be refugees from Greenwood.”

  Marie raised her eyebrows. They must have been intercepted quickly if the story wasn’t all over the palace by now. She felt a little miffed that no one had bothered to inform her of the unusual event, but the feeling was overwhelmed by curiosity. There hadn’t been any refugees arriving in the capital of Northgate since one of the larger southern towns had caught fire and burned to the ground. But that was a good ten years ago, and Marie had been only a child.

  Greenwood was a much smaller settlement, located just north of the capital. The whole northern part of the kingdom was covered in a large forest and was much less densely populated than the wide plains and farms south of Northgate.

  Even amongst the smaller towns of the forest, Greenwood was a particularly tiny village. She knew it only because it was located so close to the capital. Many of the youth who were raised there chose to relocate to Northgate; those who remained chose the harder life of the village because they loved the woods and the solitude. Marie couldn’t imagine what calamity would have inspired them to seek shelter at the palace.

  “My squad rode out immediately to investigate and found the town exactly as the refugees described,” said William. “It was completely deserted and appeared to have been ransacked and stripped of everything of value. It would take considerable work to make any of the homes habitable enough to last a winter.”

  There was a low murmur of surprise around the vast table, and several whispered conversations broke out. It was the only time Marie had ever seen the council close to chaos, so she wasn’t surprised when the head councillor cleared his throat loudly and glared around the table. When the other councillors had been shamed into silence, he directed his concerned gaze at the king.

  “Did the refugees offer any explanation of this strange situation?” King Richard asked his son.

  “Yes, sir,” said William. His face remained impassive, but Marie knew him well enough to read the slight inflection in his voice. He was about to say something dramatic, and he was enjoying the anticipation.

  “The refugees claimed that a strange man with an unusual accent visited the town several days in a row last week. He spoke openly against the capital and against the crown, attempting to rile up the people. Many of the villagers simply ignored him but some were swayed by his words. Those individuals began going into the forest to meet with him. They came back with reports of a large band of rebels.”

  “Rebels.” There was neither surprise nor fear in the king’s voice.

  William nodded. “They have apparently found shelter in a system of caves hidden in the forest, and he is seeking to increase their numbers. Those who arrived in Northgate claim that there was nothing particularly persuasive about his words, but that his manner was strangely beguiling. One of the older men claims that those who followed him into the forest acted bewitched.”

  “I assume that this strange new rebel is being blamed for the destruction of the village?” asked the king.

  “Yes. Last night, those who chose to side with the stranger apparently became angry at the rest of the village for refusing to support him. They gave an ultimatum. Support the rebel cause or be driven from their homes. As you know, foresters are hardy folk, and they ignored the threats. That night a large band of armed men arrived in the town. They ordered the remaining villagers out of their beds and forced them onto the road to the capital. They didn’t let them take anything with them, and one of the refugees, who circled back to check on the village a few hours later, found it ransacked and deserted.”

  There was a long silence after his words.

  Marie felt a surge of interest and excitement, followed almost immediately by an equal surge of guilt. She remembered the southern refugees from her childhood. Black soot had lurked behind the children’s ears and in their hair while the adults’ faces had been marked with a haunting desperation.

  Marie’s family had greeted them personally in a show of royal support, and one small girl had cried the entire time, clutching a ragged and dirty doll. Marie had been overwhelmed by the people and the noise and felt exasperated by the younger child’s wails. Her mother had taken her aside and explained that the girl had lost not only her home but also her entire family in the fires. The doll was all she had left of her old life.

  Marie wondered if these new refugees were all right and if any of them had lost family members to the stranger’s beguiling words. What kind of princess valued excitement over the well-being of her subjects?

  A bad one, she concluded, but she couldn’t quite shake the feeling of relief that something had come along to break the monotony.

  “This is troubling news, indeed,” said the head councillor. “Clearly the matter must be investigated further.”

  There was a round of agreement from the other councillors, and several seemed about to launch into long speeches on the subject. Before they could get started, however, the king spoke.

  “I will take responsibility for determining the truth behind these strange events. And I will report back to this council in one week’s time.”

  A second murmur of assent swept around the table, and several of the councillors looked relieved.

  Marie couldn’t understand their attitude. She was sure she would go crazy if she had to wait a week to find out more and instantly resolved to insert herself into the investigation. When the councillors began to file out of the room, she hung back.

  “I know that look,” said a wry voice behind her.

  She turned to face her brother. “What look?” She filled her voice with all the innocence she could muster.

  “You’re in the middle of plotting how to convince father to let you in on the investigation, aren’t you?”

  “Me? I wouldn’t dream of pushing in where I’m not wanted.”

  William laughed.

  “No,” he agreed. “You’re just an expert at convincing people that they want you around.”

  “Thanks… I think. I just wish I was as much an expert at getting out of council meetings as you are.”

  “I would never attempt to ‘get out’ of a council meeting!” William attempted a haughty expression but couldn’t resist grinning at her.

  Marie elbowed him in the side, and he was about to poke her in retaliation when they were interrupted by a familiar voice.

  “Children.” His tone was mild, but these days, their father only ever called them children as a chastisement so they quickly resumed serious attitudes.

  Only the three of them remained in the council room, and now that the councillors were gone, the king looked worried.

  “This is a very concerning development,” he said. “We’ve been receiving word about a new group of bandits in the forest for some time, but this is the first time I’ve heard them called rebels.”
>
  “That’s definitely the word the Greenwood refugees used.”

  “I think you and I need to ask them some more questions,” said the king.

  “Me, too,” said Marie quickly.

  Her father turned to look at her. After a moment’s consideration, he nodded his head.

  “Certainly, if you wish it.”

  Chapter 2

  The castle steward had found a place for the Greenwood refugees in an old guardhouse within the palace grounds. It had been empty for some time, and multiple plans to repurpose the building had been lost in the administrative approvals process.

  Normally the sight of the building served as a frustrating reminder of Northhelmian bureaucracy, so Marie was glad to see it put to such excellent use. The refugees turned out to be a small band, made up mostly of women, children and older men. Two of the women had organised the children to play some sort of quiet game in the corner of the common room. The children were subdued but intent on the activity and paid no attention to the new arrivals.

  The rest of the group, however, broke off from their various activities when the king strode into the room. The rather harassed looking steward appeared relieved by the arrival of the royals and ushered them to seats at a long table. Marie was surprised at the informality of the whole encounter, but her father and brother seemed unfazed.

  Further proof that they get to do much more exciting things than I do. She gave an internal sigh and then felt repentant. Her mother would never dream of complaining or feeling so unsatisfied.

  Several of the villagers took seats across the table from the royals. Marie had already observed the refugees deferring to an older, grizzled man whom she assumed was the village elder. In such a small community it was unlikely to be a formal title, but she had yet to see a town, big or small, that didn’t have a leader of some sort.

  The elder was accompanied by another man, somewhat younger than himself, although still middle aged, and two women. Marie recognised the no nonsense air that marked them as forest women. It informed the observant that they worked as hard as any man and were used to commanding the respect they deserved.