The Enchanted Rose (3 page)

I lean over the balcony, a smile spreading my lips thin as I search in the dark for Osric. His promise to visit tonight is all I’ve thought of the entire day. Madrid giggles behind me, grasping my wrist and pulling me back inside.

“Milady, please,” she says, but her smile matches the happiness I feel. 

“Oh, all right,” I relent, returning to my chair so she can finish braiding my hair. She carefully runs the brush through my blonde locks before parting them into three sections and intertwining them. 

A harsh knock startles me, causing me to stand, nearly knocking the chair over. I look to Madrid, who shrugs and hurries to the door. 

“Evening, daughter.” Mother saunters in, followed by Father. 

“Good evening, Mother.” I curtsy. “Father.” 

“Hello, Princess.” Father kisses my temple, beaming, his smile spread ear to ear. 

I look to each parent, but neither says a word more. Mother looks annoyed, almost disgusted as she sits where I sat only moments before. 

“What brings you to my quarters so late in the evening?” I ask, faking a smile. 

“We come with news.” She puts her nose in the air, like I am below her even when standing over her. 

“Oh?” I kneel in front of her so she can give her neck a break. I do not know what I ever did to earn such hatred from her. I only wish I could fix it.

“Sit straight,” she commands. Father clears his throat, showing his disapproval of the way Mother treats me, but he does not argue with her. I straighten my back to appease her. Nothing I do is ever good enough for her.

“Prince Chavez travels from Elna tomorrow. He will arrive in two days’ time. The wedding has been moved up.” 

“Wha—what?” I’m stunned. Why would the wedding be pushed up? Why is Chavez coming here now? What does my mother hope to gain from this arrangement? 

“Queen Amber feels there is no need to wait any longer for the wedding. You are of age and able, so why force you to wait for your happily ever after to start?” She smiles, causing my heart to fall. She knows I won’t be happy unless I’m with Osric.

Thinking of him, panic threatens to overtake me. He is on his way here right now. If he arrives while Mother and Father are here, it could cause war. I take deep breaths in an attempt to calm my nerves. He has not yet arrived. There is still time. 

Thinking again of what Mother said, my heart aches. She knows she’s causing me pain, and she’s enjoying it. But I can’t allow her to hurt me like this.  I will play her heartless game until Osric and I find answers.

“When is the wedding?” I hate to ask, am afraid to ask. But I must know. I have to warn Osric before it’s too late. I would sooner die than marry Chavez, no matter how wonderful a prince and man he may be. He is not the one for me. 

“A sennight from now.” Seven days.

“Why would Chavez come to Tivor so soon before the wedding?” I try to hide the tremor in my voice. From the glint in Mother’s eyes, I didn’t hide it well.

“To be with you, of course. And the city wants to know who is marrying their princess,” she says sweetly. My lip twitches. I hold back all the things I want to say. 

“Of course, Mother. If you don’t mind, I would like to rest now.” 

“Good. Tomorrow, you have an appointment with the seamstress. She is to make your wedding gown and get your new wardrobe ready. Your clothes must be the style of Elna when you go home.” Her tone sends chills down my spine. 

“Why would my clothes need to be like that of Elna when I go . . .” I don’t bother finishing the question. Her look of pure glee says it all. Chavez and I are to live in Elna. Far away from Jossa and her power as queen. 

“It is unfortunate for you, but Queen Amber feels it would be best if Chavez lives in Elna, despite not being the crown prince.”  She smiles with sympathy, but her eyes show menace. She’s planned everything to get rid of me as soon as she possibly can.

I fear what she plans for Father. I glance at him now, wondering why he hasn’t said a word. 

He looks down at me with tears pooling in his eyes. “Queen Amber has her reasons for wanting you and her son to live in Elna. We assure you, it is only temporary. When the time comes, you will inherit Tivor, but we hope that will not be for a long while.” 

“But I don’t understand. I thought we would live here. Would that not make the most sense, Father? Princes Chavez is not used to our customs. He will need to learn them before he can be expected to rule.” I stand, grasping Father’s forearm. 

“Oh, Roselyn, I know that. But your mother and Amber have spoken of this extensively, and though they do not wish to share the reasons, I know they are good ones. Please trust us.” He pats my hand.

My arms fall to my sides. Mother has brainwashed Father. He would do anything to make his wife happy, even if it means believing her blatant lies. Though it is painful to see, it is not hard to believe that Father would fall for it. 

Since watching his brother get killed more than twenty years ago by the princess witch’s hand during her reign over Avonathia, he has never been the same.

“One more thing, dear. I am leaving and will be back before Chavez arrives. I am sure you will be just fine without me for a couple of days. Good night, Roselyn. Get your rest.” Mother stands, clasps her hands, and leaves, with Father right behind her. 

Her leaving now confuses me, but I don’t dwell on it. With her gone, I at least have a few days to come up with a plan without her nagging at me about the wedding. 

Madrid closes the door and kneels before me. “Rose, don’t give up hope. True love will always find a way.” She pulls me into her arms and allows me to sob on her shoulder. 

The sound of heavy breathing catches my attention. Madrid steps away, knowing all too well she cannot hold me back. I run to the balcony and smile, allowing my worries to slip away for the moment. 

Osric reaches the banister, pulling himself over it. I don’t give him a chance to catch his breath before I throw myself into his arms. He laughs, graciously accepting me in his embrace. “I have a gift for you,” he whispers against my lips before kissing me.  

I grin, pulling away. “What is it?” 

“My dear princess, I just climbed three stories of the castle wall to be with you. Is a gift more precious than being with the man who brought it to you?” He leans toward me again, but I step back, avoiding his kiss. 

“Where’s the gift?” Though I would never let it show, I would much rather still be in his embrace, allowing him to kiss away my worries. But I can’t help torturing him because I know he’ll make up for lost time when he does finally get his kiss. 

With a sigh, a smile still playing on his lips, he reaches behind him and pulls out a dozen roses. Eleven the deepest red, and one white rose. It almost looks as if it is glowing.

“What’s this?” I hold the petals to my nose and inhale. The scent is overpowering, but another smell penetrates beyond it, something I don’t recognize, but it seems like it should be known to me. 

Osric wraps his arms around my waist once more, pulling me closer until only the flowers separate us. “Dear Roselyn, I will love you until the last rose turns red. For should that happen, somehow our love isn’t true. But while its petals are pure as snow, my desires shall only be for you.” 

I move the roses out from between us, throwing my arms around Osric’s neck and kissing him. The flowers slip from my grasp, but I don’t care. I feel Madrid take them from my hand before I drop them.  

Giggles erupt, and I take a step back from Osric, unable to hide my joy despite all the troubling news I must share with him. “Thank you, my love. And what is the occasion?” I ask as I arrange the roses in the vase Madrid gives me. 

“It was a strange event, actually. An old man called to me in the town square. I would not have answered, but he called me by name. He knew my heart’s desire and our predicament. And with that knowledge, how could I ignore him? I approached cautiously, ready to run if need be, but he offered this gift. How could I refuse?” he explains, sounding a bit befuddled.

I turn to Osric, goose bumps covering my arms and neck. “What did he want in return?”  “Nothing.” He averts his gaze.

“Osric.” I place my palm against his cheek, forcing him to look at me. “What did the old man want in return for these roses?” 

“All he said was one day, he may come to me and ask for a favor. I could not have said no if I wanted. It felt as if he used magic to compel me toward him. The fairy who handed me the roses said she knew what we were going through. She put them in my hands and disappeared.”  He seems to plead with his eyes, begging me to believe him.

I don’t doubt him. “Why would a stranger do this for us? And what of this fairy? You said a man gave you these.” I look at the flowers in the vase, sitting on the table just where the moonlight shines in, illuminating the white rose. 

“The man offered them to me as his gift, but it was one of his fairies who put the roses in my hand,” he clarifies. 

“What if it’s a trap? We already face so many issues, so many trials—all the people who do not want to see us together. The roses are a lovely gift, Osric, but how can we keep them without knowing why they were given?” Panic sets in as all the possibilities run through my mind.

“What if they are simply flowers?” He takes my hands in his, squeezing them gently. 

“What if they’re not?” I ask. 

“What if they are a force for good rather than evil? What if the wizard who gave them to me is one of the few who wishes to see us together? I did not accept them without caution, my love. I asked him if he was a spy because I felt the situation odd as well. He knew who I was. He knew who you were. He was aware that I was on my way to see you when he stopped me.” Osric brushes a loose strand of hair from my face. 

“He could have known those things if he were sent to spy on you by my mother or Queen Amber or anyone who wishes to hurt either one of us. Your mother made a lot of enemies when she first came to this world. How can we know he is not trying to get to her through us?” 

“What could a dozen flowers do to us?” He raises an eyebrow, and I can see that he is trying hard not to smirk. 

“I don’t know. And I don’t wish to find out.” 

“For all we can speculate, they could genuinely be just a gift. The old man wants to gain favors from me. Why would he do that if he only planned on hurting us or someone we know and care about?” 

“Did he say anything else that could be a hint toward what these mean?” I glance at the flowers once more. So beautiful, so charming, so potentially dangerous. 

“No. So please, let us not spend our precious moments together worrying about something we do not know if we should even be worrying about.”  

I furrow my brows. “There is something to worry about.” I take a deep breath, not wishing to speak of this. My heart aches, just thinking about it. “Prince Chavez is on his way here. The wedding has been moved up.” 

Osric frowns. “How soon will it be?” 

“One week.” It’s my turn to look away, embarrassed and ashamed. 

He gently guides my jaw with his finger until I am once again looking at him, just as I did only moments ago. “Why?” 

“I don’t know. My mother would have me believe that she is concerned for my well-being and wishes to see me happy. She says there is no reason to wait any longer. But that is not all. I am to live in Elna for a while, and only when it is time for me to take the throne of Tivor will I return.” My voice shakes, a shudder crawling up my spine. 

“Why? That does not make any sense. You belong in Tivor. Elna is to be ruled by Prince Tobal when Queen Amber and King Nicklaus’s reign is over. Should the future queen of Tivor be living in another kingdom where she does not belong?” Osric speaks with passion, his tone serious. 

In his eyes, I see fear, something I am sure my own features mirror. “I tried to reason with Mother and Father. But they waved away my points—the very ones you just made—and said these are Queen Amber’s wishes.” 

Without words, Osric pulls me to him, wrapping his arms around me. I lay my head on his chest and allow the beating of his heart to calm me. “Whatever it takes, we will fix this. And we’ll find a way to be together.” 

“Thank you,” I whisper. 

Dawn fast approaches, but I do not wish to leave Roselyn. The news of Chavez’s visit and the impending wedding, plus our worry about the roses, is taking its toll on us. I hold Rose close, comforting her and getting support from her. 

As sunrise gets closer, the need to leave becomes an anxious weight on my shoulders. “Love, it’s almost morning.” I brush a strand of hair behind her ear, accidently dislodging her cuff. 

She grasps for it, catching it before I have a chance. She takes a step back and slides it into place again.

“I’m sorry.” I frown at the sadness in her eyes.

“It’s all right.” She bites her lower lip, continuing to adjust the earring until it sits perfectly atop her ear once more. 

“I must go.” I look toward the window, but my feet stay firm against the floor. 

“I know. I don’t want you to leave, but I also do not wish for you to be seen—or worse, caught. Be safe, and return when you can.” She hugs me. I hold her tight against me, not ever wanting to move from this place.

“I will. And you do the same.” I gently tap the bottom of her chin, getting her to look at me. “We will find a way around this. I promise.” I kiss her lips before turning on a heel and climbing over the balcony railing.

I know that if I look at her, if I stop for even a second, I won’t leave. And I must, for both our sakes. I descend the castle wall as fast as I can. 

When I hit the ground, the sky is still dark. I stick to the shadows of the castle until I am around the corner and facing one of the guard towers. Not seeing any guards looking my way, I dash through the trees, past the broken wall, and escape into the forest. 

I run until I reach the town square. Once there is nowhere left to hide, I stroll casually through the streets, acting as if I belong. As I pass the shops, I search for an old man and his seven fairies, but I am alone in the town at this early hour. 

I tense up, always hating to walk the short distance between the market and forest. Soldiers are constantly watching for smugglers and bandits sneaking into the kingdom along these roads. 

Having been caught before by some of the ruthless guards, I never wish to encounter them again, though their wrath is nothing compared to that of the queen. She may very well have killed me if not for the entire royal court’s presence. 

Since that day, it has been made clear that I am not a welcome guest in Tivor. Queen Jossa does not wish for me to be anywhere near her daughter. Why she hates me so, I may never understand. 

Once I’ve cleared the busiest part of the road, the most heavily guarded area, I dash into the woods, making a run for Knight, my father’s most valiant horse—the only one that hasn’t been spooked and left me in the woods alone.

Though, I can’t hate
all
my past horses for leaving me stranded. If not for the chestnut mare, I might never have met Roselyn. That day was one of the best and worst in my life all rolled into one. 

“Good boy.” I pat Knight’s neck, finding him in a small meadow right where I left him. “Let’s go home.” I pull myself into the saddle and tug on the reins, getting the horse headed in the right direction. 

The sun rises as I enter through the castle gates, greeted by two soldiers of Wentsden. They hardly glance my way now, whereas three years before, they were determined that for my safety, I couldn’t leave the castle grounds alone at night. 

I give each man a curt nod before continuing my wary way. I dismount from my father’s horse— long-lived for such a hard-worked creature—and continue to the stables. Umberto, the stable hand, takes the reins from me, and I leave without a second glance. I find myself meandering to my quarters, barely watching where I walk. 

I’m exhausted from riding all night, sick with worry over Rose and the news her mother has given her. 

I enter my room and remove my boots before falling into bed, not bothering to get between the covers or even remove my filthy clothes. 

As I drift into sleep, my last thoughts are of a white rose surrounded by eleven red ones, and wondering why a stranger would give them to me and Roselyn. The fairy said she knew my pain. She told me to take the flowers, and not even fate could stand between us. Whatever did she mean? 

“I trust you slept well, Your Highness?” Quin, my trusted manservant, asks, standing over me.  

“Yes, thank you.” I take a deep breath, not wanting to wake up just yet. 

“Very well, sire. I have prepared your dinner.” He steps out of my view. On the table sits a platter of meats, cheeses, and fruits. 

“Dinner, you say?” I sit up, rubbing a hand over my face. 

“Yes, Your Highness. It is midday. I attempted to wake you this morning in time for breakfast, but you sent me away—though I do not believe you were awake for that.” He smiles. 

“No, I don’t think I was.” I stretch my arms, trying to work out some of the tightness from climbing up the side of a castle last night. 

“And your evening stroll, Prince? How did that go?” he inquires while pouring water into a cup for me. 

I can’t help but laugh at his stealth in wording his questions. He is loyal beyond measure, and when I entrusted him with my secret, he promised to take it to the grave. “It could have gone better.” 

“I am sorry to hear that. Will you be returning this night, sir?” 

“No. I believe it would be far too risky to return so soon.” I push myself from the bed and limp toward the chair, falling into it rather than sitting down. “Now about that food—I’m beyond hungry.” 

Quin pulls the cover from the platter, revealing strips of pheasant meat cooked in an orange glaze. The smell envelopes me. I dig in, hardly able to contain myself. Not eating last night or this morning is catching up with me. 

As I chomp down, I think over all Roselyn said—Prince Chavez’s visit, how in a week’s time, she’ll be in Elna, unless we stop this wedding. But how? It seems hopeless. 

I slip my hand into my trousers pocket and pull out the piece of parchment still there. Written in ink are the words I spoke to Roselyn. The promise I gave her. 

I will love you until the last rose turns red. For should that happen, somehow our love isn’t true. But while its petals are pure as snow, my desires shall only be for you.

A feeling of peace washes over me. My eyelids begin to close, and the weight I feel pressing down on my shoulders seems to disappear for a moment. With clarity, I reopen my eyes, and that sense of tranquility vanishes. 

“This is a spell,” I whisper, running my thumb over the words. 

“Pardon me, Your Highness?” Quin clears his throat. 

I look up, realizing he is leaning closer to hear me better.  “I’m sorry, Quin. I was speaking to myself.” 

“Of course.” He begins to turn away, but promptly looks back at me. “Excuse me, sir. I am sorry for speaking out of turn, but did you say it was a spell? And might I ask what it is that you believe to be a spell? You seem quite perplexed, Your Highness. Perhaps speaking to someone else will offer you some insight.” He takes a seat across from me at the table and eagerly awaits my response. 

I open my mouth to speak, but there is a knock at the door. Without a word, Quin stands and opens it. I take the moment to eat another bite of food. 

“Has the prince awakened?” Edda—Mother’s former maid, and now great friend to the family— asks so loudly, her voice could be heard by anyone in the kingdom. I assume she intended it to be that way in case I wasn’t yet awake. 

“He is, ma’am.” Quin steps aside, allowing Edda entrance.

She approaches the table, a grin on her face as she sits across from me. “Well, how did it go?” she asks, far too excited for news of last night’s outing. 

Quin stands beside Edda, now looking unsure whether or not we will continue the conversation we hadn’t started yet. 

“Sit. You might as well hear the events of last night as well, which are directly attached to that of the spell I mentioned before we were interrupted.” I turn from Quin and look to Edda knowingly. 

She shrugs, not giving a care that she barged in and interrupted. But she leans forward, eager to hear what I have to say.  I laugh and begin explaining the previous evening’s happenings. The wizard, the fairies, the roses, Roselyn, Prince Chavez, and the looming wedding. 

All down to the paper I am still holding. “Based on the feeling I got when reading these words only moments ago, I believe this is a spell, a kind of enchantment.” 

Edda takes the parchment from my grasp and examines it closer. “What was the wizard’s name?” She looks at me, panic in her voice, worry in her eyes. 

“He did not tell me.” I raise an eyebrow. “Why do you ask? What does it matter?” 

She sits back, placing the paper on the table before her—still keeping her hand on it—and looks directly at me. “It is very rare for someone outside of royalty to be given magic. Wizards, witches, warlocks, sorcerers, and sorceresses—there are very few of them in the world. It is not likely there is one I do not know, but the seal left on this paper is one I don’t recognize.” She purses her lips.

“So what does that mean?” I lean forward, looking at the note through the spaces between her fingers. 

“It means that I do not know if he is friend or foe. You are correct in believing this is an enchantment. Saying these words to the one you love binds you to them. If the rose you gave Princess Roselyn turns red, you two will never be together. You will never have a chance at being with her because this magic will hold you to it.” The worry turns to sadness in her eyes. She frowns and lets go of the paper. 

“But it says that if the rose turns red, it means our love isn’t true. Our love is real. That I know with all my heart,” I argue, my voice rising. 

“I do not disagree, Your Highness. You best hope that the magic over you and your princess finds your feelings genuine and worthy. It doesn’t matter now what is truth. If the person who gave you this enchantment wishes for you and Roselyn to remain apart forever, they now have the power to make it happen.” Edda sits a little taller, straightening and clasping her hands before her. She looks at me in a motherly fashion, feeling for my situation. 

I look to Quin, noticing how silent he has been through the conversation. He bites at his thumbnail, eyeing the paper. 

I turn back to Edda. “Is there any way to undo this?” I rub the back of my neck before sliding my hands beneath the table and clenching my fists, trying my hardest to hold my emotions in check. 

“I don’t know, Osric. I am sorry. If Queen Jossa hired that wizard to do this in order to keep you two apart, there is nothing that can be done—to my knowledge. But then again, I don’t have magic. Perhaps you need to speak with someone who does.” She nods, as if unsure what else to do or say. 

I rest my elbows on the table and put my face in my hands. In hopes of fixing all our issues, everything keeping us apart, I may have just secured them into place. “How can I have been so stupid as to fall into this trap? I sensed he was using magic on me, and yet I stayed anyway. I accepted the flowers. I gave them to Roselyn, and now I may never be with her again.” I mumble into my palms, not really meaning to speak out loud, but needing to think through everything. 

“Sir, perhaps the best option now is to find the wizard. Ask him, demand answers from him. He would not have done this without reason. He has something to gain from all this,” Quin finally says.