A Tale of Two Princesses (35 page)

     He looked up at her again, looked into her eyes. The crowd below held their breath at his silence.

     "My ring, Prince Cross," Celeste whispered. "Do not dare cross me. You have asked for my hand and you will accept it, or it will be war between our lands."

     Court drew out his ring, grabbing her hand and shoving it on. "I do."

     "The crown," the priest said. At his word, the steward brought a pillow with the king's crown sitting atop it. "Your majesty," the priest said, "crown your king. Bow, Prince Cross."

     Court did not bow. He stood there, glaring at her. "It wasn't you, was it? Somehow, it wasn't you."

     Celeste picked up the crown, raising her voice. "Court Cornelius Cross, as my husband, I do so endow you with the power of kingship over me and my lands." She lifted her arms, placing it on his head. "Take your place as my king and husband."

     "Who was it?" he whispered, stepping closer. "Tell me."

     "By the power vested in me," the priest said, "I pronounce you husband and wife, king and queen. Long live the king and queen!"

     "Long live the king and queen!" the crowd echoed.

     "You may kiss your queen, your majesty," the priest said.

     Court did not kiss her. He was trembling. She had lied to him. It all began to fall into place. She had been switched, somehow, for some reason, with someone else behind the mask. Yes, her behavior had never been the same as that first night. How had he not realized it sooner? This was not the woman who he had fallen in love with. But then, who was it? Who? Who? Who!

     "Who!" he shouted.

     Celeste grabbed his shoulders and pulled him in, kissing him. He pulled away, breaking the kiss, and the music immediately came up, the crowd standing and applauding. Celeste turned, taking his arm, but he grabbed her, turning her back.

     "Who was behind the mask, Celeste? Who? Who?"

     She glared at him, her teeth clenching, her lip curling, the crowd still cheering, the music high in their ears.

     "Who do you think, you fool?" she spat. "Who have you been running about saving all over the countryside? Who have you been spending your evenings with? Who have you been pining for whilst you were with me? And who, this very moment, hangs from the gallows? Yes! Your stable girl is dead, dead, dead, hung as your vows escaped your lips!"

     Court's eyes spread far open, releasing Celeste's arms, stepping back. "No."

     "Yes! You are my husband now, King Cross, and you will accept the fate with glee, for your peasant love is beyond you now."

     "You killed her!" he shouted, grabbing her again. "You killed her!"

     "No, I did not kill her," she whispered, her lips tight. "We killed her together. She hung from the rope on my command and with your words of condemnation ringing in her ears!"

     "How could you do this?" he whispered in horror. "How? Why? I loved you."

     "You loved her," she corrected, "but I have never loved you. Now, come along, King Cross. Walk me down the aisle. We must dance at our reception and make merry with our guests. The gravedigger has his own tasks to attend to."

     Court fell to his knees there on the altar, the clapping crowd quieting in confusion, the music repeating without pause. And then the lighting flashed, the thunder rolled, and the great stain glass window shattered.

* * *

     Vrine was laughing as she watched the gallows in the mirror. "Are you watching, servant? Perhaps I'll keep you alive long enough to witness your prince's death too. Would you like that, to die after him? Maybe I'll even keep you alive as my pet? I could turn you into a frog. Would that be better, to be a frog?"

     She turned around, her eyes widening. Wellington was struggling, drawing the sword from his side, inching it out of its scabbard, the blade rubbing up against the vines. And then they snapped.

     Wellington was on his feet instantly, pulling the sword out of the hilt, yelling as he charged. Vrine grabbed a vile from the shelf, smashing it on the ground. It sent a smoke plume into his eyes, blinding him. Wellington withdrew, coughing and squinting, the room hazy, his eyes burning.

     "Where are you, witch?" he shouted.

     "The prince's valet has a trick or two up his sleeve," Vrine said.

     Wellington spun around, trying to follow the voice.

     "A blind frog," she said, laughing. "Yes, I think I will."

     He spun back around. The walls were echoing her voice. Where was she? He closed his eyes to focus. Then he heard it, the sound of glass vials clinking together. He lunged forward, cleaving. He felt the blade hit flesh and Vrine shrieked.

     "My hand! You've taken my hand!"

     Had he? Well, he was proud of that, at least. He opened his eyes, begging his vision to return. "There's yet more to take, witch!"

     A vial suddenly struck him in the chest. He roared as it burned through his clothes, eating away his skin. He tore his shirt off in a frantic hurry.

     "I am not going to turn you into a frog, servant!" Vrine shouted. "I will turn you into a goat and eat your heart!"

     As Wellington backed up, his backside bumped into the caldron, searing his flesh. He hissed and spun around, keeping it in front of him. He sharpened his ears, listening, trying to catch footsteps. She was coming closer.

     "Are you ready for the pain?" Vrine said.

     Right in front of him! He dropped his sword, a gesture which paused Vrine for a moment, and then he shoved his hands forward, right against the cauldron. He hollered in pain as it burnt his flesh from his hands, but then it tipped, the scolding liquid flushing across the floor. Vrine cried out.

     He tried his vision again, blinking, seeing her hazy image on the floor, writhing and flailing. He grasped up his sword, charging over the liquid, splashing it underfoot, the droplets burning his legs, and then grabbed Vrine by the neck, holding his sword, ready to impale her.

     "Do not move, witch!"

     Vrine was moaning in pain, slumped against the mirror, holding her bloody wrist, breathing tiredly, burns all over her body from the cauldron.

     "Now, witch," he said, his vision growing clearer, "you'll answer for your crimes."

     "Think you've won, servant?" she said angrily. "You can't kill me! If I die, the dragon will become wild! It will devour your prince, and anyone else it so chooses!"

     "Then perhaps I will not kill you," Wellington said. "Call the dragon. Give it a new order."

     "What? What order?" she spat.

     "Send it to the gallows."

     "Why?"

     "To save the stable girl! I can't reach her in time, but that dragon can!" Wellington looked up at the image in the mirror. The noose was already around Sienna's neck. "Call it! Send it for her now!"

     "Or what?"

     "Or your blood is on this mirror!"

     Vrine snarled, taking her hand away from her bloody limb. She withdrew a whistle, putting it to her lips and blowing. Then she motioned to the shelf. "The black vial with the scales inside. Add to it the golden hair from the dish."

     He grabbed the vial and the hair, holding it up. "These?"

     "Smash it to the floor."

     He pressed the blade to her throat. "This better work, or I will slay you, witch."

     He smashed the vial on the ground and a black fog rose. Vrine held her hand out.

     "Dragon of the sky, wake and crow,

     "Your duty to me, perform, bring death and woe.

     "Take the scent of the one I show,

     "Bring this girl to her love and do not slow."

Chapter Twenty-Three

The Revenge of the Dragon

     Sienna closed her eyes, and then the floor fell out from under her feet. She expected the noose to stop her. Instead, the dragon smashed into the gallows, shattering the beam holding the rope. She fell to the ground underneath the platform, the wood breaking apart all around her.

     Sienna climbed to her knees, coughing, her noose tight. She looked up to see Homa on the ground next to her. And then the dragon roared, standing on the gallows overhead, the rain pouring as it looked down. The townspeople were screaming, the soldiers shouting, and then the dragon let off a blast of fire and everyone ran. The gallows began burning, the rain fighting with the flame.

     "Homa!" Sienna cried. "Are you okay?"

     "I think so, child. What's happening?"

     "I think the dragon came back to eat me. I don't know wh—wahh!"

     The dragon had grabbed her, pulling her up, her noose still tied to the broken beam. She immediately began suffocating. The dragon roared and bit the rope, severing it from the beam. Sienna coughed desperately.

     "Sienna!" Homa called, trying to stand.

     The dragon leapt into the air, landing on top of the bakery. Sienna could see the people below, fleeing through the streets, even the soldiers. The prisoners, all except Homa, were running away with their nooses wagging like tails behind them. The dragon leapt off the roof, flapping, taking to the sky.

     Sienna pinched her eyes shut. She had never been very good with heights. She knew it was going to happen again, just like last time, back to the dragon's cave, down into the pit, but this time, maybe she was thankful, maybe Court would come, would save her. She could see him again.

     But as she peeked through one eye, cringing at the distant ground, she saw they were flying toward the castle, circling around behind it. Sienna was so confused, and then the dragon dove, flying at a great speed, aiming for a large, circular stained-glass window. She screamed as they smashed through it.

     Suddenly, the dragon dropped her from its paw. She fell, plummeting toward the floor, having a brief second to see the church in the castle. She didn't even know castles had churches. Celeste was standing on the altar in her beautiful white wedding dress, the priest looking up at the dragon, Court on his knees, his head hanging. The guests were behind the pews, crying out, running for the exits as the guards charged to the altar.

     Sienna smashed into Court, knocking him off the altar and tumbling with him onto the floor. They rolled together and she wound up on top. It was all she could do to sit up on her knees, straddling him with her hands tied behind her back, looking down. His eyes blinked a few times, as if he couldn't believe it.

     "Sienna?"

     "Court, you're alive!"

     "I'm alive? You're alive!"

     He sat up, wrapping his arms around her, hugging her. She instantly felt warm. He was hugging her. Oh, it was wonderful! She pressed into him as best she could, turning her head, rubbing her cheek into his shoulder, her smile so broad it hurt her face. Court was hurrying to untie her wrists. The moment they were loose, she pulled free and threw her arms around him.

     "Oh, Court. I'm so glad you're okay. Listen, Celeste's planning to—"

     Sienna gagged as Celeste grasped the end of her noose, yanking her away from Court. She stumbled and fell back, falling on her face in front of Celeste.

     "Dragon!" Celeste screamed. The dragon was sitting on the altar, resting on its hind legs like a dog waiting to take a command. "Kill the prince! Eat him! Devour him!"

     But the dragon did not respond. It simply sat there, unmoving. Court stood up slowly, glancing around. The ten guards were circling the outer edge of the altar, their spears in hand, looking at the dragon. The guests had all fled, their screams still echoing back into the church.

     Sienna coughed, looking up at Celeste. "Your majesty, I think Wellington got to Madam Vrine. I don't think the dragon will listen to you anymore."

     "You sent this beast, Celeste?" Court said, taking a step forward.

     "Guards!" Celeste shouted. "Kill the prince!"

     The guards looked at each other in puzzlement.

     "Guards!" Court countered. "I am your king! Take Queen Celeste prisoner!"

     "How dare you?" Celeste shouted. "This is my kingdom! Vrine, where are you? Do something!"

     Court stepped closer. Celeste instantly pulled up the slack on Sienna's noose, grabbing her short hair.

     "Stay there!" she shouted. "Guards, I am your queen! I was born to this throne! Obey me! Take him!"

     One of the soldiers moved forward, looking at his fellow guards. "Obey the queen!"

     "The queen!" the others echoed.

     They began to surround Court. He looked around, catching Sienna's eyes as she gasped for breath under her noose.

     "Hold on, Sienna!"

     The guards charged, but before they could attack, someone shouted.

     "Halt there!"

     Everyone spun around to see Wellington in the church doorway, standing behind Vrine, the sword held to her neck.

     "Wellington!" Court shouted, relief in his voice.

     "Your highness," Wellington said, "I think we must flee the castle!"

     "I think we must as well, my friend," Court said, looking back at the guards, his eyes darting to Sienna. "Celeste, let her go!"

     "You do not give orders here, Prince Cross!" Celeste spat. "I will see her dead at the end of this rope if I must strangle her myself!"

     "Let her go!" Court roared. "You can have your precious kingdom! Just let me have Sienna!"

     "And have you retreat back to your daddy?" Celeste sneered. "Oh, I do think war would follow, Prince Cross."

     "If you don't release her, it will be war!" he shouted.

     "Your highness!" Wellington called. "Do not forget we control the dragon!" He shoved Vrine forward, reminding her of his sword. "Order the dragon to protect Prince Cross! Do it! Tell it now!"

     "Vrine!" Celeste shouted. "Do not do it!"

     Vrine paused, glancing back at Wellington. "Forgive me, my queen. I have no choice." She turned her head, looking at the dragon, and then raised her hand.