Beyond the Four Kingdoms Box Set 1: Three Fairytale Retellings (Four Kingdoms and Beyond Box Sets Book 3) Read online

“They’re so young!” said Sophie quietly.

  “Too young.” Celine’s grim voice had reappeared.

  I had to agree. Another set of identical twins looked barely thirteen and terrified. They clung to each other and barely spoke. And at least two of the other girls looked almost as young. Looking from face to face, I suspected that Celine at eighteen must be the oldest.

  “We can’t compete against children,” said Celine. “Where’s the integrity of that?”

  “You heard the duke.” I shook my head. “We are all legally bound now. And they don’t seem to take interference lightly.” I gave her a significant look.

  Two girls with particularly cold expressions stood alone and silent to one side of the room. One of them looked barely more than a child, but the other didn’t look much younger than us. Something about their expressions irritated me, and I admitted to myself that I wouldn’t mind beating either one of them in some sort of contest.

  Another older girl also stood apart. But her beautiful face held such a heartbroken expression I wanted to give her a hug rather than a lesson. The remaining four girls stood in a tight huddle, glancing our way much more frequently than the others.

  “Do you think they’ll let us speak to the baron and baroness soon?” asked Sophie, looking around for some sort of official or servant. I just hoped our delegation heads had made it to the palace.

  “Tradition requires that the contestants speak to no one between the opening ceremony and the opening ball. Except for each other, of course.” The oldest looking girl from the huddle had approached us, the other three trailing behind her, their faces open and curious. “But you’ll be free to speak to whomever you like at the ball. And I’m sure your delegations will be there.”

  She dropped a small curtsey. “I’m Princess Millicent of Trione, by the way. But everyone calls me Millie.”

  We all gave return curtsies and murmured our own introductions.

  I like her.

  I had to agree. Millie’s friendly smile was a welcome sight after the madness of the last couple of hours.

  “This is Lilac, Hazel and Marigold of Marin,” she added, pointing to the three girls behind her in what appeared to be descending order of ages. Seeing the three princesses in closer range, it was obvious they were sisters. But even the oldest looked barely mature enough for a betrothal tourney.

  “Isn’t Marin a duchy?” asked Celine.

  “Yes,” spoke up Lilac, the eldest of the sisters. “But the children of the ruling duke and duchess are given the honorary title of prince or princess. I used to be glad, but now…”

  “You don’t want to be a princess anymore?” asked Sophie.

  “Only princesses have to compete in the Tourney,” explained Hazel, the middle sister.

  “And you don’t want to compete?” Sophie sounded sympathetic.

  “Only because it’s Prince Dominic! He’s scary,” whispered Marigold, the youngest.

  Hazel elbowed her in the side. “You’re too young, anyway. You shouldn’t have to compete.”

  “I wouldn’t mind if it was Prince Gabriel.” Marigold giggled. “He’s cute.”

  “None of the princes looked scary to me,” I said, hoping to reassure her and allay my curiosity at the same time. “Which one was Prince Dominic?”

  “Oh, he wasn’t there,” said Marigold, her eyes wide. “No one’s seen Dominic for years. But everyone knows he’s a monster. The rumor is that he’s cursed, and his whole kingdom with him.” She leaned toward us and lowered her voice. “They call him the Beast.”

  “Stop it, Marigold!” Millie glared at the younger girl. “Lily, Sophie and Celine are our guests, and they’ve barely been here for two hours. There’s no need to scare them with silly fairy stories.”

  Marigold turned her wide-eyed gaze on the older princess. “But you told me half of those stories yourself. You said they were true!”

  “Marigold!” Millie glanced at us guiltily.

  I really do not like the sound of this, projected Sophie.

  I wished I could disagree with her, but she would hear the insincerity in my thoughts. The whole situation seemed to get worse by the minute.

  “Hazel, take her away,” ordered the oldest sister.

  I tried vainly to remember her name. They’d all been named after colors, or was it flowers? I glanced helplessly at Sophie, and she hid a smile, not needing me to spell out my confusion.

  It’s Lilac, Hazel and Marigold.

  That’s right. Lilac. I had always been hopeless with names, an unfortunate defect when travelling to a new kingdom.

  Hazel and Marigold both appeared to be contesting their banishment in whispers, but Lilac stood firm, giving Hazel a stern look that the other girl seemed to understand. With a sigh, she dragged her still-protesting younger sister away.

  “Sorry about that,” said Lilac, turning back to us. “Marigold is only fourteen, and she gets a bit excitable sometimes.”

  I glanced with amusement at Celine. Sophie and I had first met her when she was fourteen, and excitable would have been a good description.

  “Don’t underestimate a fourteen-year-old,” said Celine, apparently thinking along similar lines. She glanced after the retreating girls. “Although it does seem too young for an event like this.”

  “Yes, much too young.” Millie sighed. “I’m the oldest here at seventeen. Even Lilac is only sixteen.” She looked at us speculatively. “Unless you’re all older?”

  “We’re seventeen as well,” said Sophie. “But we’ll be eighteen in the summer, and Celine is eighteen already. And she was just complaining to us about always being the youngest.” She glanced at our friend. “Hopefully you can enjoy your chance to lead a group at last.”

  Celine surveyed the young girls spread throughout the room. “My sympathy for my older siblings is growing by the minute.” She sighed and then looked at Millie and Lilac. “I have six older siblings.”

  “Six!” Lilac winced in sympathy. “I only have one older brother, and he’s bad enough.”

  “I have an older brother, but only by nine minutes, so I hardly think it counts,” said Millie. “My sympathy is with your siblings, I’m afraid. I have an eight-year-old sister who’s even more ‘excitable’ than Marigold.”

  “Oh, you’re a twin too!” Sophie sounded pleased. We didn’t know any other twins amongst the nobility back home in the Four Kingdoms.

  “Yes.” Millie smiled. “Not identical, obviously. My parents and little sister were to the right of the king, and my brother, Theodore, was the one on the end.”

  The cute one, I projected to Sophie.

  She blushed and glared at me.

  Hey, I didn’t say it out loud.

  And you’d better not! That was for your ears only. She paused and a small smile slipped onto her face. Not ears, exactly, I suppose.

  We could never stay angry at each other for long. My lips are sealed, I assured her.

  I noticed Lilac was giving us both a strange look, and I wondered about our expressions. We normally made an effort in company to speak aloud and to avoid long, awkward silences. But the new location and all the unexpected happenings had thrown us off.

  “Ignore them, they’re odd sometimes,” said Celine, apparently aware of Lilac’s confusion as well.

  I hadn’t realized she’d noticed. Sophie carefully kept the guilt coloring her tone from appearing on her face. She’s never said anything.

  We’ll have to try harder.

  Celine continued. “I want to know more about this supposed curse and beastly prince. And this whole Princess Tourney, really. No-one’s paused to explain anything to us. And I, for one, don’t appreciate being legally bound into a competition, and potentially a betrothal, without the slightest explanation.”

  Millie wrung her hands together, her eyes flitting between each of our faces. “Oh, yes. I understand, of course. We all feel terrible about the whole thing. The duke and duchess have been waiting with such eager anticipation for t
he delegation’s return. When word came this morning that the ship had been sighted on this of all days…” She shook her head.

  “The timing seemed terrible even before we discovered that the Emissary had brought foreign princesses with him. It was panic, I assure you, when we realized you would be forced into the Tourney with the rest of us. Everyone is afraid that your kingdoms might take offense. My kingdom of Trione is closely allied with Marin—the duchess is my aunt—and my father spent the afternoon closeted with the duke discussing the potential ramifications. I imagine they’re explaining things to your delegation heads right now and assuring them that we wouldn’t have included you in the Tourney except out of dire necessity.”

  Lilac nodded her agreement. “My father is greatly concerned that this will destroy any chance of an alliance. Or even precipitate a war.”

  “We can all hope not,” I said, but my heart sank. Just how bad was this Tourney going to be?

  “Yes, indeed. Hopefully not war!” said Millie. “There really was nothing we could do. The law is clear. All eligible princesses in the land must compete. There’s no provision for visitors.”

  “Why would there be?” asked Lilac. “We’ve never had visitors from other lands before.”

  “But isn’t your father the duke?” Celine looked confused. “Couldn’t he just change the law?”

  “Oh, it’s not Marin’s law,” said Millie. “It’s part of the ancient laws. The ones from our founding that govern all the land.”

  “Oh,” said Sophie. “You mean the High King’s laws?” Surely it can’t be so bad if it’s the High King’s law, she added to me. Maybe we should ask our godmother about it?

  “I…I suppose so.” Lilac looked between us uncomfortably. “They’re certainly upheld by magic. None of the kingdoms dare break them, for fear the whole kingdom will be cursed.”

  There’s something wrong with this place. Sophie’s voice sounded quiet in my mind. Once again I couldn’t disagree with her.

  “I don’t like all this talk of cursing,” I said aloud. “I think you’d better tell us exactly what the old laws say about this Princess Tourney.”

  Millie and Lilac shared a look, and then Millie took a deep breath. “Any ruler, or his heir, has the right to call a Princess Tourney to choose his bride. Every eligible princess in the land must compete, and the winner is betrothed to the one who called the Tourney.”

  “And what makes a princess eligible?” asked Sophie, her eyes on the young twins still huddled in the corner.

  “It’s every unattached princess over twelve, I’m afraid,” said Millie. “They’re very old laws. And I know Pearl and Opal don’t look it, but they just turned thirteen. Historically, the young ones don’t usually win, though. And, if they do, they have a long betrothal. The actual wedding can’t take place until the princess is at least sixteen. The laws are clear on that as well.”

  “Well, that’s something I suppose,” said Celine, under her breath.

  “And what does the Tourney involve?”

  “No one knows,” said Lilac. “Only the princesses attend, and they are bound to secrecy. The history books say their lips are magically sealed on the subject.”

  “The history books?” I surveyed the room again. “There seemed to be plenty of princes in the throne room. Surely some of you, at least, have competed before? Or your mothers?”

  Millie shook her head sadly. “There hasn’t been a Tourney called for more than two generations. That’s why it never even occurred to us…”

  “The last one was called by our grandfather’s father,” said Lilac. She gestured at Millie. “That’s the grandfather we share. A previous king of Trione.”

  Millie grimaced. “My mother told me that the rulers didn’t like having the control of alliances taken out of their hands by the Tourney. They began the practice of betrothing their daughters before they turned thirteen. Only three princesses competed in that last Tourney, and no-one has called one since. It’s been so many years…I suppose the kingdoms all assumed the practice had fallen into mutual disfavor. No one bothers with early betrothals anymore.” She spread her arms wide. “So here we all are.”

  Sophie and I frowned at each other. Celine put her hands on her hips. “So why has this ‘beastly’ Prince Dominic called a Princess Tourney then?”

  Millie bit her lip and glanced toward Marigold, who was pouting in a corner. “I’m afraid no-one knows. No-one has spoken directly to the Beast since he and his kingdom were cursed. None of us could have been more surprised when we received the news.”

  “He sent my father a letter,” said Lilac. “Marin has always hosted the Tourney, and my father had no choice but to call it once he had verified Palinar’s seal. It is unusual for the person calling the Tourney not to attend, but it is not required.”

  “Marigold said no one has seen the Beast for years,” said Sophie. “And you’re saying no one has talked to him. How can that be? Don’t your kingdoms trade with each other?”

  “We used to.” Lilac’s face drooped. “Our duchy is the trading center for all the kingdoms. Trade is the whole basis of our prosperity. And Palinar is the largest, and oldest of the kingdoms. But something changed there several years ago.”

  Millie leaned forward and lowered her voice. Perhaps she felt guilty for the tales she had told the younger princesses previously. “First we noticed that no one had come out of Palinar for weeks. Then weeks became months. The travelers and merchants who attempted to enter the kingdom turned back with tales of desolate wastelands roamed by wild animals. Wolves and bears.” She lowered her voice further. “Only Palinar never had any wastelands. Or packs of hungry animals, either.

  “The last group to attempt to enter turned back after rescuing a man who had been mauled by a bear. The man was gravely injured and seemed confused in his mind. They brought him back to Marin and managed to heal his physical hurts. But his mind still wanders even now. He speaks often of a curse and a beastly prince. When asked about the king and queen, or about Princess Adelaide, Dominic’s sister, he says only that they are gone.”

  She pulled back, her eyes fixed on our faces, waiting for our response. I could see a small part of her relished the dramatic story, and I could imagine the response she normally got from the younger girls.

  None of us spoke. Sophie’s shocked silence rang in my mind as loudly as any words.

  “It’s obvious what happened,” said Lilac at last.

  “Is…is it?” Had I fallen asleep on deck, and the last few hours had been one long dream? It seemed much too far-fetched to be real.

  “Palinar must have broken the ancient laws,” she said. “It is the only way an entire kingdom could be cursed. And it’s why we had to pull you into the Tourney. No one wants to see Marin cursed in the same way.”

  Sophie finally found her voice. “So, you’re telling us that whoever wins this Tourney will be engaged to a prince known as the Beast? A prince who did something so terrible that his entire kingdom has been cursed. And this unfortunate girl will have to venture off into a wasteland full of wolves and bears.”

  Celine snorted loudly. “So, what you’re really telling us is that this competition will be a race for the bottom rather than a race for the top?”

  “Oh no!” Millie sounded horrified. “You heard the duke. Interfering with the competition requires a life be forfeit. That includes us as well.”

  “But how would anyone know?” I asked. “I mean, no one here can have any idea of our abilities, for instance.”

  “It’s the ancient laws,” said Lilac, her eyes glassy. “The magic knows. The second to last Tourney before this one was called by the heir of Marin. A couple of princesses felt that being a duchess would be beneath them. They didn’t try at all. Each of them lost a family member to illness before the end of the competition.”

  Millie looked at us sadly. “And it was someone back in their home kingdoms, too. So not even the three of you are safe.”

  Sophie turned to stare
at me. Max and Alyssa! she projected, naming our brother and sister-in-law.

  My stomach churned. Little Harry and Rose.

  At the mention of our young nephew and baby niece her face went pale. She turned back to the others. “So we all must do our very best to win the Tourney and condemn ourselves to this awful fate.”

  “No wonder your fathers were worried about war,” said Celine. “Welcome to Marin, hey.”

  A tear slipped out and ran down Lilac’s cheek as she looked at us. She was the oldest of the Marinese princesses, and her family’s Emissary had brought us here. Did she feel responsible, or just afraid of the consequences?

  I surveyed the room, half-full of children, again. A sinking sensation made me reach out wordlessly in my mind for the comforting feeling of my sister. I felt her reaching out for me as well and wished we could extend the same support to Celine. Because I had a bad feeling that one of the three of us was going to win this Tourney.

  Chapter 4

  I forced myself to rally. None of this was Millie or Lilac’s fault. And they seemed the most likely candidates to win after the three of us. They were fellow victims, and I appreciated the information they had shared.

  “So you’re telling us we’re not going to see anyone until this ball tonight? No hope of any food delivery then?”

  Millie smiled at me gratefully. “No, I’m afraid not. But the ball should be starting soon, and there will be plenty of food there.”

  I smiled back at her.

  Could you really eat right now? Sophie sounded shocked.

  No. But I couldn’t think of anything else to say.

  We should get her to tell us about the others. She turned to Millie. “Who’s that girl on her own in the corner? She looks so sad.”

  Both of the local princesses turned to look. “Oh, that’s Snow,” said Lilac.

  “Princess Blanche of Eliam,” Millie added.

  “She’s usually fairly good fun.” Lilac sighed. “She and Hazel are friends. They’re both fifteen and were born only days apart.”

  “Is she sad about the Tourney?” I asked.