The princess and the per.., p.1
The Princess and the Performer, page 1
A Once Upon a Time Novel
Ivy Drumm
Copyright © 2022 Ivy Drumm
All rights reserved
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.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Cover design by: BeautifulBookCovers
For Aubrielle.
Thank you for showing me that anything is possible.
Contents
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Epilogue
Dazar's Drink
Afterword
The Lady and the Stable Boy Excerpt
Books in This Series
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Chapter 1
My breath steals away as the acrobat swings from the domed ceiling of the palace. His pale gold hair flashes in the sun shining through the glass wall. The audience holds a gasp as he lets go of the rope. For a moment, he is suspended in the sky. Wrapping his legs around a new rope, he looks at me and winks, spiraling to the ground like a maple seed. His descent jerks to a stop as he rests a foot above the glistening floor. One hand grips the rope while he extends the other out to his side in triumph.
Applause roars through the hall as the performer sweeps into a deep bow. Around his neck, on a thin leather cord, rests an auburn butterfly. Specks of golden sunlight shimmer on its surface. The man tears it off his neck, flinging it into the air. Screams of excitement tear through the crowd as the butterfly explodes in a flash of light, growing tenfold! The shimmering image swoops through the room before exploding in a blaze of amber. From the ashes of the fireworks, a tiny butterfly charm floats down. As it gets closer, it attaches itself to a thin golden chain around my neck.
Blushing, I meet the gaze of the trapeze artist. The corners of his lips tilt upwards as his ice-blue eyes stare into mine. His laugh echoes across the crystalline floors. The kind of laughter that sounds like wind chimes twinkling in a spring breeze. Suddenly, a plume of white smoke envelops him. When the smoke clears, the entertainer is gone. At his disappearance, a strange ache I can’t explain fills my soul. The magic dissolves and I am once again stuck in the natural world.
I take my leave and begin making my way towards the door when I feel the butterfly around my neck pulling me forward. Fingers racing, I unclip the hook at the end of the chain and hold it out in my hands. With a mystical force, the butterfly darts out of my hand and begins to race down the hall.
Windows overlooking the sprawling cliffs blur as I dash past them. The sharp sound of my clicking shoes against the marble floor fills my ears. Racing down empty hallways and up old stone stairs, I follow the glistening charm. My heart pounds and my stomach flutters. Chasing the auburn beauty through an open door, I emerge onto one of the many turrets adorning the palace. Skidding to a stop, I barely avoid sliding off the roof and into the apricot woods below.
“Hello.” A deep voice calls from above my head. The accent is not one I am familiar with. His voice is smooth and musical, like an elf. I look up to see the performer dangling from the tip of the tower. Before I can gather my thoughts he drops beside me, “Crown Princess Aubrielle, what a pleasure to meet you. I believe this is yours.” He extends a hand, revealing the precious butterfly. In one swift motion, he fastens the necklace around my neck.
Frowning, he looks at the butterfly and hums. “I believe it is still missing something.” Swiping his hand through the air and uncurling his fingers, he reveals a stone, clear as the cerulean sky. “A Vanite crystal,” he says.
He steps closer to me, “At first glance, these crystals appear clear, devoid. Most people disregard them for that very reason.” My breath catches in my throat as he leans close enough for me to feel his breath. I watch as he holds the crystal up to the sun and it bursts into an avalanche of colors, each shade rippling against the last. I exhale, mesmerized by the dancing lights. “Vanite contains all the artistry of the universe.”
“Where did it come from?”
He puts the crystal down. “It was mined in the deepest caverns of the first moon.”
“I can’t believe I’ve never heard of it!”
“I can. No one would have bothered bringing it to the palace. It is rare for anyone to look close enough to notice its beauty.”
“You noticed.”
He chuckles, a deep pleasant sound. “I don’t believe I’ve ever hidden the fact that I’m different.”
I wince, wondering what life would be like for me if I wasn’t forced to hide behind false smiles and pleasantries. “It seems we differ in that behavior. It feels as though all I ever do is try to mask my differences. The courtiers are very…” I pause, thinking of the right word.
“Stubborn mules with sticks stuck up their backsides?” The performer chuckles.
I can’t hold in my laugh. “Yes, I suppose that works.” After a moment, my chortling subsides and I catch my breath.
“Apologies, that wasn’t very ladylike of me.” I glance down, thinking of every lecture I've received at the hands of my parents and peers.
“Aubrielle.”
“Yes.” I look up, freezing when I see the arresting light in the man's eyes. “Your laughter is like the stars. I am blessed to have heard it.”
I don’t know what to say. “Thank you.” I whisper.
“It’s the truth. Never let anyone change who you are.” His voice is strong, unbending and mountainous.
I laugh once more. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure.” He jumps backwards off the roof, his laughter ringing through the air. My lungs tear open in a silent scream, thinking I’ve witnessed the death of this peculiar man. I peer over the edge but the aerialist is nowhere to be seen. I open my mouth but no sound comes out.
“Gorgeous view. Correct?” A voice inquires from behind me. Jumping up, I teeter for a moment over the edge of the roof. The mountains themselves cease their singing and the world hangs in balance for just that moment. Then a broad hand wraps around my wrist, pulling me back into reality.
“Exhilarating! Am I wrong?”
“Possibly,” I gasp.
“I like you Aubrielle.” Jerking back he continues, “Please forgive me, I realize that I have neglected to properly introduce myself. I go by many names but the one I present to you is Dazar.”
I smile. “I truly am delighted to meet you, but I’m afraid I must be going. The gong is about to ring, and someone will be missing me if I don’t appear soon.”
“Then, by all means, do not let me hold you up. Though I do wonder if you will allow me the pleasure of meeting you again?”
“Of course!” I blurt out with far too much enthusiasm.
Dazar bends into a low bow, his hand sweeping the air beside him. “In that case, until tomorrow!” With that said, he takes a step back off the turret. I can hear him laughing from somewhere along the rooftops as I begin my lonely descent down the narrow staircase.
~~~
“What?” I exclaim as I am roused from my stupor.
I am sitting midway down a long wooden table in the middle of the dining hall. The setting sun is visible through the great window encompassing the western wall. Sitting next to me on one side is Igor, a permanent diplomat from Ceruclian. On my other side is Sibbly. The latter is my older cousin, best friend, and the one who has been trying, and failing, to bring me back into reality.
“I was asking if you enjoyed the first circus performance.” Sibbly says, fanning her hand in front of my nose. “I thought it was downright magical. I just can’t wait until the next one!”
“Don’t you envy the freedom they have?” I ask.
The dining hall, Sibbly, and the feast all fade before me. If only I was able to soar above the clouds instead of being stuck firmly to the ground. How different would my world be if I wasn’t the only daughter of the King? If I didn’t have to follow courtly rules and instead had the freedom to be myself?
“Of course not, silly! Why would I want to change my life? We are living a dream that most girls can only imagine!” Of course. I sigh to myself. No one here wants to do anything. Sibbly is just like everyone else. Ambling through life on the whim of others.
I spend most of the dinner gazing out the window. I block out the conversations around me and keep my thoughts to myself. I know it is wrong, but my mind keeps straying back to the strange performer. Dazar. My blood races and my stomach ties up in knots. I don’t know how I will last until our next meeting. I felt more alive talking to him for ten minutes than I have ever felt in my entire life.
My thoughts fumble as I notice a figure hanging upside down at the top of the massive window. Gesturing to Igor, Dazar rolls his eyes and brushes an invisible dinner jacket. A perfect imitation of the diplomat.
I spend the rest of my evening stealing glances at Dazar. I watch him parrot various nobles, advisors, and dignitaries. The cool taste of rose water washes against my lips as Dazar pantomimes a dog. Behind me, the grand doors slam open and four of the black hunting hounds race in. The creatures are all as tall as me and at least twenty hands wide. Wet tongues and whipping tails swirl through the hall. The room erupts into a cacophony of the dogs' excited yips as they mingle amidst the courtiers.
A brazen pup prances up behind one of the more crotchety noblemen. The dog seems to smile as he snatches the man's wig before running off. Rosewater sprays from my mouth, drenching the table. Within a matter of seconds, the room has dissolved into mad chaos and I love it!
I look up just in time to see Dazar wink before disappearing into the soft, blue night.
Less than a moment later, the frantic kennel master bolts into the room. Hiding my laughter behind a cup, I observe young men in suits chasing the hounds around the table. As the night wears on, the dogs begin to tire. They pant and wave their tongues through the air. One even plops down on top of Igor, covering everything except a pair of flailing arms.
As the dogs begin to quiet, the kennel master's sharp whistle can finally be heard. Scowling, he turns on his heel and stomps through the wide doors. Jumping to their feet, the hounds trot after him. Their heads are held high as their tails wave farewell. I admire their courage in the face of the crime they have just committed.
Now that the threat has dissipated, the party begins to dissolve. People slink off to their rooms in groups of two or three. Slipping past the crowds I make my way to the athenaeum. Voices fade into oblivion as I turn a corner and enter the library. Smiling, I close my eyes and inhale the indescribable scent of worn books. The library has always been my favorite part of the castle. It's the one place where I don't have to be anybody but myself. Throughout the years I have lived a thousand lives and seen a million worlds. The pages of these books have always been my best friends.
Weaving through the towering shelves, I trek to the back of the vast room. In front of me is a stone wall. The rocks are gray and crumbling. Smooth grooves carved by centuries of trailing fingers are visible in the dim light.
Reaching out my hand, I slide my fingers into a niche between two blocks. As my fingers hook behind the icy stone, I retract my arm. The wall follows my example without hesitation, sliding away to reveal a dark room. I slip in like a serpent before pulling the hidden door closed behind me. Feeling my way to the fireplace, I pull a hearthstone from my pocket and hold it to my lips. As I exhale, the stone begins to glow a soft orange. Tossing it into the hearth, I watch as it bursts into a million amber flames.
As my eyes adjust to the soft light, the room comes into focus. The flickering fire reveals a worn rug in the middle of a gray stone floor. In one corner sits a deep red settee, in the other, a pile of shiny swords and rapiers. Sitting on the small desk next to the chair is a sky blue novel lined with twinkling silver. Breathing a sigh of contentment, I collapse onto the settee and open my book.
Hours later, when I creep out of my hidden oasis, I am greeted with a comfortable silence. Though the sconces lining the walls have died, the library is lit with pale moonlight, shining through the glass ceiling. My footsteps echo through the corridors as I briskly make my way down the halls leading to my chambers.
A fire is already crackling behind the grate of my fireplace as I open the door. Yanking off my dress, I slide into a creamy silk nightgown. The room fades as I sink into bed and tumble through a world accessible only in my dreams.
~~~
As I rap on the dark stained wood of the door to my father's study, I am once again met with silence. Easing the door open I whisper, “Father?” before edging into the empty room. After closing the door, I find myself drawn to the paper-strewn desk in the middle of the chamber. As I begin to look over documents, I spy the corner of a faded paper sticking out from underneath a stack of books. Being careful not to tear it, I extract the paper from beneath the pile and hold it in front of my eyes.
The sheet is so soft and old that it is turning yellow. The words on the page are so faded that, at first glance, they appear to be nothing more than a few gray blurs. Bringing the parchment close to my face, I squint and begin to read. To my disappointment, the words are all either too faded to read, or seemingly nonsensical. Grumbling, I bend over the paper and continue to scan it until I hear footsteps in the hall. Dropping the parchment, I look up as the door slams open and my father marches in.
“What are you doing inside here?” He demands. The eyes looking out from beneath his bushy brows are narrowed. Beneath his nose is a mouth so pinched, it looks as though he has been sucking on a lemon.
“I was just waiting for you.” I say, clasping my hands in front of me.
His sarcasm is rich as he sneers, “Why? Shouldn’t you be hosting a tea or entertaining dignitaries?”
Frowning, I push down the anger I can feel worming through my soul. As I shake my head, I remind myself that getting angry won't change who I am. Who I was born to be. Smiling again, I speak.
“No, as your heir, my main duty is to involve myself in the running of our kingdom. Duty aside, it might be a relief for you. You're getting older and I know that you're stressed about Mom. If I took over a few of the smaller matters, you wouldn't have so much to worry about.”
My father stares at me with a blank expression for a moment before responding, “No, I do not believe that is a good idea.”
I sigh. “One day I will be Queen and all of your duties will fall to me. I need to start taking on more responsibilities.” I pause, remembering the ancient document. “Speaking of which,” I reach across the desk and point to the worn sheet, “What is this? It's old enough that whatever it says shouldn't be relevant.”
My father's expression turns to ice as he snatches the yellow paper off the desk. “None of your concern. Stop trying to eat at the big table when you still belong with the kids. Go, I need to be alone.”
Stunned, I find myself stepping into the hallway and pulling the study door closed. Tears threaten to flood my eyes but I blink them away. Throwing my shoulders back, I stride down the hall. I walk absentmindedly, my thoughts wandering back to the study and the worn piece of paper lying on the desk. My father is hiding something, and I am determined to uncover what it is. Tonight I will go back to the study and decode that message. I nod to myself. The mere thought of that yellowed paper feels like a knife in my gut. The longer its contents remain a mystery, the deeper the knife is thrust. Though I do not bleed, I am sure that the pain will kill me.
I wander through empty hallways, back to my sanctuary hidden in the depths of the library. As the door slides closed, I tear open the small box sitting next to my sword pile. Folded inside the box is a pair of flexible, black pants and a loose white shirt. I don't hesitate to replace my dress with the more suitable practice clothes. Time spins around me as I practice forward thrusts and feints. Before long, I am panting. With heavy breaths, I collapse on the settee and begin polishing my rapier.
When I can procrastinate no longer, I trudge away from the library and into the Ladies Sanctuary. When my mother first married my father, she created a wing for her sole use, dubbing it the Ladies Sanctuary. As long as this palace stands, no man may pass the threshold and enter the sparkling hall. Golden whorls decorate the imposing white doors. They are so tall that five men standing on top of each other's shoulders wouldn't be able to reach the top.
Passing through the doors, I am met with the faces of at least two dozen women clad in elegant satin dresses. Sitting on a plush red throne at the far end of the room is my mother. She has always looked like a fairytale. Soft golden hair that accents her kind bearing twists around her ears. Atop her head rests a sparkling crystal crown that makes her dewdrop eyes dance.
Though she is still gorgeous, the illness eating her body has made her look ethereal. Her flushed cheeks are sunken and hollow. Her lips have a blue tint that matches the veins visible beneath her pale skin. Her delicate beauty is much like that of a china cup. If someone were to drop her, she would shatter into a million pieces.
Her face lights up when she sees me. “My darling Aubrielle. Come here my child.” She frowns as she inspects my face, “Aubrielle, what is troubling you?”
