She calculated for a moment and then answered, “A few years short of a hundred.”
I thanked her heartily, and she sat back down. “Have the rest of you heard the same story?” I asked.
Most of the people in the room nodded. One man stood up, took off his hat, and said, “I know a bit more, Your Highness.”
I nodded my encouragement.
“The castle was moved during the time of King Bertram and Queen Melinda, Lord rest their gentle souls. It was right after their daughter disappeared. They were never the same after that. When they died, the castle went to your father’s grandfather, who was from the finest family in the kingdom. Your family has been ruling ever since. Quite well, may I add.” He bowed creakily and sat back down.
The story of the daughter rang a bell. My nursemaids used to talk about a missing daughter of Queen Melinda. “Does anyone know more about the girl?” I asked, searching their faces.
One man called out, “I think she was named after some kind of flower. Don’t know more than that. I think she was ill or something.”
The woman who had spoken first suddenly stood up again. “I remember something else! Grandmother said that when the castle moved, the forest grew triple its size and completely covered the area where the castle had originally rested.”
Another woman added, “I’ve heard those woods are haunted. Ain’t natural for woods to grow up that fast.” At this, everyone nodded.
Soon they all returned to munching on their cakes and sipping tea. No one seemed anxious to leave, so I sat with them, mulling over what I had learned. Moving castles? Forests that bloomed overnight? When the last person finally left, I knew what I should have known instantly: King Bertram and Queen Melinda’s castle had not moved. An exact duplicate had been created on their fields, and the original was covered by such dense brush and vines as to be virtually invisible. But why? And who had such magic at their disposal as to keep it impenetrable nearly a century later?
I was about to head up to my chambers to ponder further when one of the men came hobbling back inside. “Did you forget something, sir?” I asked.
He shook his head and whispered, “I did not want to say this in front of the others, but I was a friend of your grandfather’s, Lord rest his kind soul. When he was a bit older than you, he told me of a vision he had of a beautiful young woman asleep in the woods. He packed a bag and went to find her.”
Wide-eyed, I asked, “And did he?”
The old man shrugged. “He wouldn’t say. I used to kid him about it, but he would simply smile sadly and say, ‘I was not the right one at the right time.’”
“Not the right one at the right time?” I repeated. “What does that mean?”
“I am sure I do not know, Your Highness. I simply thought you’d like to know the story, since you never knew your grandfather.”
“Thank you,” I said, reaching out to shake the man’s hand. “My grandfather was lucky to have a friend such as you.”
“You are a fine young man, Your Highness. He would be proud of you.” The man bowed, put his hat back on, and hobbled out.
I could not think of anything I’d done to make anyone especially proud, but I would certainly try to in the future.
That night I dreamt about a girl, except she wasn’t a regular girl. For one thing, she had pink wings. For another, she was only about two feet high. In my dream she was handing me a book. I could barely make out the title. Flora and Fauna of the Northeast Region. I joked about it sounding very exciting. She did not laugh. I did not remember the dream until I was washing my face in the basin. I stopped in mid-splash and ran it back through my mind. What had the girl-creature been trying to tell me?
I hurriedly finished dressing. Normally Jonathan would be helping me — not that I needed it, of course. I was headed downstairs for breakfast … but then I found myself passing the kitchen and heading toward the library. I stood in front of the painting of the girl reading on the lawn. The maids had dusted the painting when they’d been through the castle the day before, and I noticed for the first time how beautiful the girl was, even though the painting was still much more faded and cracked than the one I had glimpsed in the old castle. I tried to make out the artist’s name, but some tiny cracks in the paint ran through it. The two initials were either B’s or P’s or R’s, or some combination of them. It didn’t truly matter, since I would never have heard of the painter anyway.
But I had not come into the library for the painting. Starting in the far back, I began to carefully search the shelves. I found many books on politics and battles and even a cookbook on how to make the perfect loaf of bread. All the books were covered in a thick sheet of dust, like they hadn’t been taken off the shelf in decades. Father was not much into books, and due to my tutors’ lackluster performances, I had never been motivated to read much. But now all I wanted to do was find the book from the dream. Three shelves down, I found it. The title ran down the spine, faded, but definitely the same book. I knew it should feel very strange that I dreamt about something and it came true, but at this point I was surprised by little. I pulled it off the shelf, blew off the dust, sneezed, and sat down with the book on my lap. I turned to the first page and held my breath. What secrets would it tell me?
Well, it basically told me all about the flora and fauna of the northeast realm. I already knew what types of trees and vegetation grew here. It was so boring I almost fell asleep. I had to shake myself to stay awake. In the process, I shook something out of the book. I bent down to retrieve it.
It was a thin pamphlet titled “The True and Fascinating Story of a Certain Fairy Who Saved the Princess.” A drawing on the cover showed the same girl-creature who was in my dream. I eagerly opened it. In flowery handwriting was a single paragraph:
I, the youngest fairy in the realm, am recording what will likely be my greatest deed in a long, long life. Due to my quick thinking, I was able to lessen a cruel curse made by the eldest fairy in the realm who everyone thought was dead. I alone have ensured Princess Rose’s safe passage through these ten decades. I can say no more, for I do not want the wrong suitors disturbing her. Blessings be on the head of the right one at the right time.
That last line sounded familiar. My grandfather! That’s the same thing he told his friend upon returning from the woods. Everything began to fit together. The new castle was created almost a hundred years ago — ten decades. No one saw Queen Melinda’s daughter after that. The name of a flower — Rose. Princess Rose. P.R. The name on the painting! I twisted my head until I could see it again. That must be her lying on the grass. Did her parents order a duplicate castle from the fairy because they needed the old one to hide her? Could she possibly still be alive behind all those vines?
There was only one way to find out. I ran into the cloakroom and threw on my traveling cloak. The season had grown cold, and I planned on staying in the woods until I got inside that castle. Never had I had such a worthy goal, such a grand mission. My body tingled with anticipation. I was about to tell the bailiff that he was in charge again until my return — but then the bugle blew announcing a visitor. Could my parents be home early from their trip?
A young man stepped in and shook the snow off his cloak. A page came up behind him, holding two suitcases. The young man spoke. “How have you been, old friend? Looks like we’re going to be spending a lot of time together.”
I gaped. “Percival? What are you doing here?”
“Well, I suppose I’ve had worse greetings,” he said with a grin, draping his wet cloak over his page’s outstretched arm. “Did not your father tell you? He invited me to stay at the castle until I am eighteen. He said something about you losing a good friend to the knighthood and that you were taking it very hard. Since there is little chance of me becoming a knight, he thought it would benefit both of us if I came to live at the castle. So … where’s my room?”
For my fifteenth birthday I decided to perform again. Now that I no longer felt defined by my gifts, I
was happy to share them. I joyfully tap-danced my way across the stage and then playfully went from the flute to the piano and back again. I had written this piece of music in such a way that it sounded like the piano and flute were having a conversation. The audience loved it, and since I had written it myself, I felt like I could rightly share in some of the praise. I was taking my last bow when I caught a glimpse of something in the back row. Since everyone was standing, I could not see clearly. As the audience began to mill about, though, I saw her. It was the old fairy! The one who had cursed me fifteen years ago! Even though I was an infant at the time, I knew her face. She held up an hourglass and slowly tipped it over. “Tick, tick, tick,” she whispered. Even though she was on the opposite end of the large room, I heard her clearly. Then she vanished. My heart pounded in my chest. I told no one.
Once the guests left, I ran out to the garden and sat on the old swing. I had grown much too big to swing anymore, but sitting there brought me comfort. I watched the marble mermaid spit her water into the air, over and over again. She would spit that water forever. I, on the other hand, had no secure future. I figured the old fairy’s warning could mean only one thing: Time was running out.
I could not believe Father had sprung Percival on me in this way. No doubt he thought he was doing what was best for me. I had to force myself to be a gracious, princely host. I tried to smile, but I am sure it came out more like a grimace. “Bailiff will show you to the finest guest room, Percival. I must run out, and I am not certain when I shall be back. Please make yourself at home.”
I turned toward the gate, but he reached out a hand. “Where are you going? May I accompany you?”
I shook my head. “Just an errand for my father,” I lied. “Royal matter. Boring. You shall have more fun here.” I knew I should warn him about Mother, but since she was to be away for at least another fortnight, I saw no rush. Hopefully by then he’d have heard it from someone else in the castle. I could not bear to be the one to have to tell him.
“You are the Prince,” he said, bowing low. “I shall do as I am told.”
I was not so certain of that, but I had more important tasks on my mind. I left him in the foyer and hurried out the gate. Huddling against the storm, I made my way across the Great Lawn and into the woods. The wind was less brutal here, as the trees offered some shelter. I stopped in at both forts only long enough to collect the tools I had stashed there. While I had tried many times before to cut the vines, perhaps I wasn’t trying in the right places. Or perhaps now that I knew the importance of getting in there, it would be different.
I decided to start at the library window. Since there was already that tiny peephole, I figured the vines might be weakest there. I hacked and sliced, careful not to break the window in the process. But it was no use. The vines did not loosen even an inch.
“Shall I give it a go?” a voice behind me asked.
Every morn I awoke and wondered if I would be waking again the following morning, or a hundred years later. After a few months of this, I decided enough was enough. I would live my life to the fullest while I had it. Every day I took a walk with Mama in the gardens. Or if the weather was bad, she would brush my hair and tell me stories of her own childhood. Papa let me sit in on meetings and taught me to play chess. I began to pay more attention to nature. Sometimes I would sit on a blanket and stare at the grass, just to watch it grow. I helped Mama plant new rosebushes, chrysanthemums, and lilacs. I prayed I would still be around to watch them bloom.
I often went with Sara to visit her family. As crowded as that house was, I loved the boisterousness of it. Children were always laughing and getting themselves into trouble. I wondered sometimes if my parents wanted more children but were scared after the old fairy cursed me. More than anything, I dreaded the fact that sticking myself with that spindle would leave them all alone.
One autumn afternoon I came across the list I had written about the tasks I wanted to undertake. I’d completed that painting (even though the fairy ruined it) and I’d made a whole meal by myself (even though the fairy ruined that, too). The last item on the list was horseback riding. Even though I no longer felt I had to prove myself, I was still eager to feel the wind against my cheeks.
I knew Mama would never let me do it if I asked, so I did not ask. One afternoon I told Sara I only needed to run downstairs for a moment, and instead I ran out to the stables. I had pulled some riding britches out of Mama’s closet and wore them under my dress. I quickly shed the dress and asked a stable boy to saddle a small horse for me. I saw him hesitate, but I flashed him a wide smile and he hurried to grab a saddle from the shelf. Sometimes being beautiful wasn’t such a bad thing.
He helped me up, gave me a few pointers, and then tapped the horse gently on the rump. The horse began to head slowly out of the stable and onto the lawn. Very, very slowly. Honestly, I thought I could walk faster than this horse was moving. So I dug my heels in lightly, and he picked up the pace to a slow trot. This was great! I loved seeing my familiar surroundings from a whole different perspective. The gift of gracefulness came in handy, because I was very at ease as I bounced up and down in rhythm to the horse’s movements.
I was about to enter the woods to take the riding path when I heard shouts coming from behind me. Papa was running toward me, waving his arms. Behind him was Mama, with her long skirts hiked up and her face red, followed by Sara in the rear, who scowled at me. They were all yelling at me to get down, it was too dangerous.
“I am fine, truly,” I called out to them. But they kept getting closer. The horse was starting to get a bit jumpy and was shifting his weight from leg to leg. I wanted to tell them to stop yelling, but it was too late. The horse had enough and took off. I yanked the reins like the stable boy told me, but the horse did not stop. If anything, he went faster. He veered into the woods and began jumping over fallen logs and between trees. It was all I could do to hold on. Before I could duck, a tree branch was directly in front of me. I hit it with my head and was instantly unseated. The fall to the ground seemed to take forever.
I am sure I fell very gracefully, though.
As I hit, my vision seemed to turn in upon itself. I saw bits and pieces of my life. The last image I saw was of the old fairy, smiling wickedly and pointing to the hourglass.
Then all was dark.
“Why did you follow me?” I was furious. Of all people to discover the castle! I should have thought to hide my tracks in the snow. It must have been easy to follow my exact route.
Percival shrugged. “I had nothing better to do. What are you up to? Seeing who is stronger, you or a bunch of vines?”
I opened my mouth to reply, but shut it again as I realized he couldn’t see the building! All he saw was a mess of leaves and vines, the same things I saw when I first got here. “Um, yes, you caught me.” I slowly started stepping away from the castle walls and began swinging my ax at the regular bushes. As I had hoped, his eyes followed me. “I am trying to build up my strength,” I continued. “These vines are tough, so they afford an excellent challenge.”
“Why did you not tell me this back at the castle?” he asked.
“I was embarrassed,” I replied readily. “You are so strong and fit. I did not want you to judge me poorly.” I could not believe the words coming out of my mouth. It was worth it, though, if it would keep him away from here.
He clasped me on the shoulder. “I see I arrived at your castle not a moment too soon. We shall start an exercise regimen tomorrow morn. We’ll have you fit as a fiddle in no time. Now shall we get back? It is bitter cold.”
I desperately wanted to stay, but I could see no way without making him more suspicious. I left the tools where they were and reluctantly followed him back to the house. I planned to return the next day.
It was a full WEEK before Percival let me out of his sight long enough for me to run into the woods. I had begun to suspect that Father may have included watching me as a condition for his stay. Even though Father had not adm
onished me in years, I knew he did not like it when I disappeared for days or weeks at a time. After all, I was the heir to the kingdom.
The snow had stopped, and I had hoped the warmer weather might have loosened the vines’ hold. But no. If anything, the vines were tighter. I pounded against the castle walls, calling out Rose’s name. If she were trapped in there, perhaps she could find a way out if I could not find a way in. No response. I called again. “Rose, if you can hear me, go down to the library. Roooose!”
Nothing. Then, from behind me I heard, “Who’s Rose?”
Percival was fortunate I had already laid down my ax.
When my eyes fluttered open, it was light. Water soaked my face and hair. I was lying on my bed, with four panicked faces staring down at me. The fourth belonged to the castle physician, who was holding a now-empty bucket of water over my head. I looked up, wiped the water from my eyes, and asked, “Is it a hundred years later?”
“It is an HOUR later!” Sara replied. “And none of us are speaking to you. You gave us a terrible fright. Your poor mother here had to be given smelling salts when we found you lying in a heap upon the forest floor!”
“Forgive me,” I whispered, my eyes filling with tears. Mostly the tears were out of guilt from worrying everyone, but they were also because my head ached fiercely and my throat was very dry.
“Is she going to be all right, Doctor?” Papa asked.
The doctor nodded. “Sleep, fluids, perhaps a leech or two. She shall be as good as new. Right as rain.”
Mama tossed me a towel, drew my curtains closed, and went into the sitting room. “You sleep, I shall be right in here in case you need me.” Without waiting for my response, she turned and sat down on one of the red velvet couches. Clearly she was still angry with me. I wondered how old I would have to be before I could make my own choices and take my own risks. I was going to be sixteen soon, for goodness’ sake. One glance at Mama gave me my answer — I would never be old enough!