Sleeping Beauty (Faerie Tale Collection) (10 page)

“Truly?” Her eyes traced his features warily.

“Uh—yes.”

“Truly? Your mother is fond of defense mechanisms?”

“Of course!”

Looking back at the air her eyes narrowing slightly, she asked, “What color dress is the woman wearing?”

“Um…” He began to sweat. “I believe that is a bluish-green shade, perhaps.”

She dropped his arm, instantly reverting back to a phantom, and began to walk down the hall. “It is red, Prince Darién, red.”

He watched her go for a half second, before quickly catching up—stepping over clutter and matching her hastened stride, not even attempting to lie this time. “Forgive me.”

“Did you know your ears wiggle when you lie?” she asked tersely.

“What?”

“It is true. They spasm and jerk quite continuously as you tell a falsehood.”

Darién ran his hands over his ears. So that was what they were all mocking him about.

“You could not see the vase, could you?”

“I—uh, no. No, I could not.”

She halted and stared at him confused. “Why?”

“I cannot tell you right now.”

“Of course not, why would you bother telling the queen of the castle anything that is going on within her own walls?” Turning on her heel she marched forward again.

He stayed where he was. “Aleyna, please.”

“No.” She whipped around. “No. I will not be pandered to like some infant. Something is going on in this house and I will figure it out—even if no one will be courteous enough to tell me themselves.”

“Do not blow this out of proportion; there is no reason to become upset about it.”

“Me, upset?” She flipped her hair over her shoulder and began walking forward again. “Why should I be upset? There is no reason for me to be the slightest bit discontent. No, none at all.” When he caught up to her, she asked, “Why could you not see the vase? Was the vase not there?”

“No, it was not there.”

“Could you see the table?”

“Yes.”

“But not the vase?” She became thoughtful for a moment, her hand slipping back into the crook of his arm, before she quietly asked, “Why not the vase?”

He squeezed her hand with his other one. “I told you, I cannot say right now.”

“And why tell a falsehood about something you cannot see, unless you mean to humor me?”

“Perhaps that is what I am doing, humoring you.”

She sighed. “Do you promise to tell me soon?”

“Show me the portrait gallery and we will see how you do from there. Just know that right now, you need to be eased into things.”

Pausing for a moment, she looked up. “Does this have anything to do with what happened yesterday?”

“Do you remember what happened and why I held you?”

“I remember I needed you and you were there. I do not remember all the reasons why or what I experienced—it is a bit grey.”

“You were in a lot of pain late last afternoon, something I never want to witness again—you suffering.”

“This greyness—these blurry moments and snatches I can remember, were they hindered? Is there a reason why I cannot remember anything?”

“Yes. Ezralon took them away so you could sleep.”

She blinked. “So I did see Ezralon yesterday.”

“Yes, my dear, you did, for quite some time, in fact.”

Proceeding slowly forward, she asked after a moment, “Is that perchance why he came, because he knew I needed him?”

She was so bright—her mind sorting through the dilemma much quicker than he could have imagined. Ezralon had said it was because they were together now, and it would only continue to come more quickly for her—but even Darién was not prepared for how sharp she was, yet in her sleeping state. “Yes.”

“Do you say anything besides ‘yes’ then?” she grinned, her rose-colored lips taunting him with their distinct softness.

He loved seeing her this way. So full of life and loveliness. “I fear you may only ever wish me to say yes to you, my dear. Is not that what all lovely ladies demand of their men? To continuously say yes at every turn.”

Eyes twinkling she laughed. “Oh goodness, no! The woman must be a simpleton indeed if she wished for the man she loved to say nothing but words of agreement to her. Heavens, how can there be any enjoyment in that?”

“Are you saying you love me, then?” He raised an eyebrow and brought his head down to stare into her lovely sapphire orbs—sapphire orbs that were even now fluttering and trying desperately to break contact. She was embarrassed!

“I have no idea what you are speaking of.” To imply she was declaring her love for him, before he had said anything to her first—why it was—it was—she glanced back up. Why it was—“Why is it you have the most striking grass-green eyes I have ever beheld?”

He grinned. “Now you are complimenting my eyes?” He tucked a finger under her perfect chin and responded, “Aleyna, you are doing a dastardly job at trying to convince me you are not in love.”

“Am I?” Her lashes drifted shut as he brought his other hand up to capture her head—his fingers delving into her soft hair.

“Mm-hmm…” He leant forward and whispered in her ear. “A very dastardly job.” Nibbling on the soft bit of her earlobe he smiled when she gasped.

One arm wrapped around his waist and the other clasped tightly to his elbow, she was afraid to let go—for certainly she would have fallen upon the floor if she had. “So?”

He nibbled the lobe again, loving how she clung tighter to him. “So?”

“So what if I am? It is of no importance to me…” she trailed off as he began to skim his kisses across her cheek to her nose.

He found the nose and kissed the tip, loving the dainty little thing. “It is of no importance?” His mouth moved slowly up the slant and kissed each delicate eyelid too.

“I, um, what did you say? I cannot remember quite what we were speaking of.”

“Can you not?” He chuckled and kissed her sweet forehead. “I love you, my sleeping queen, I love you more than anything you could possibly comprehend. I especially love how flustered you become when I am trying to make you just that—flustered.”

“You do?” She beamed and then pulled back, her hands clutching his and frowned. “What is it that you called me just now?”

“I do not recall? What is it that you heard me say?”

“It was odd, but I believe you called me your sleeping queen.”

Darién’s blood went cold. He could have thumped himself. “I did?”

“Yes, but it is not the first time I have heard it. Sometimes the servants, when they do not think I am listening, have referred to me as such as well. What does it mean?”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

ALEYNA’S EYES WERE SO trusting, so inquisitive, as if he were the only one she could truly talk to—the only one who would take her seriously. Darién cleared his throat and brought her hands up to his mouth, kissing each one, before answering. “There is much you do not understand right now. There is so much even I am learning, but I promise to tell you all that I know as we progress forward. In fact, I must tell you as much as possible, but I have to do so slowly and with great care so as not to alarm you.”

“Alarm me?” She continued to stare up at him. “What you shall speak to me is something that is truly alarming?”

He looked away, not bearing the sight of her so desperate for answers—she did not want these, he was positive of it. “Yes, it will cause great unease within you. I must be cautious, my dear, we all must, lest you be thrown into something you are not prepared for.”

She sighed at their clasped hands and mumbling slightly to herself said, “It is for my own good then.” Taking another deep breath she glanced down the corridor, where the great gallery awaited and said, “Well, shall we begin?”

They spent the next half of an hour in cheerful harmony, Aleyna showing off old ancestors, their wives and children, telling the great stories of their feats as well as their stupidities. The hall was aligned with many portraits of great royal monarchs—their costumes in brilliant jewel tones, flamboyant and lush fabrics displayed their wealth magnificently. Darién could not get enough of the antidotes and personal stories the queen shared of her family and so would eagerly inquire for more.

“What about this one.” He asked of a rather rakish-looking king. His crown tilted to the side a bit and his velvet robe thrown dashingly over one shoulder. “He looks like he could definitely have a story or two to tell.”

Aleyna laughed. “You are very perceptive, sir! This one in particular deserves the medal for idiocy in our family.”

He grinned and brought her in closer to his side as they looked up. “Do tell.”

“Well, it is said that when my great-great uncle here, King Antoniou, became king—this portrait was painted about a month before he was coroneted to have there in the grand hall as he was crowned, of course—“

“Of course.”

“Well, he took his crown up to his room, along with demanding a whole crate of wine be brought up to his quarters.”

“A whole crate?”

“Yes, the whole thing. It was a gift from one of the neighboring kingdoms, so naturally he had decided he did not want to share one bit of it.”

“Naturally.” He wrapped his arm around her waist.

“Foolish man.”

“Very foolish,” he agreed as he nuzzled her ear again.

Aleyna laughed and pulled away slightly. “As I was saying.”

“Yes, carry on. What did the poor fellow—whose name I cannot pronounce—do with all that wine?”

“Well, he drank it! All of it. And then, decided it was best if he cast up his accounts.”

“He became ill?”

She nodded quite fetchingly. “Very much. So much so, that when he opened up his window to remove the contents of all of his imbibing, he leaned out so very far that he toppled out the window as well, landing in his own…uh, his own…”

“Vomit?”

“Yes, precisely. And that was the end of my Great-Great Uncle King Antoniou.”

“Poor chap.”

“Yes, but that is the price you pay for being so greedy.”

“I am greedy. I do not share well either.”

“Do you not?”

“No. Not at all.” He wrapped his arm tighter around her waist. “Especially if it means I must share a beautiful queen that I am in love with.”

“Prince Darién!” she gasped.

“It is true.”

Blushing, she pulled away and took a step forward, turning nearly invisible again.

“What about this family, who are they?” he asked of a particular happier painting of a king and queen, two royal princes and a baby, as well as a couple of dogs nestled at the their feet.

Aleyna smiled brightly. “Why, that is my mother and father!” She stepped closer. “I have not seen this painting in ages. How beautiful they all look! And how young my brothers are.”

Darién took a step toward her, his hand out to catch her if need be as he asked, “Where are they now, your family? Are they nearby?”

Her eyes still glued to the painting, she did not even attempt to glance his way as she muttered, “Hmm? Where are whom?”

“Your family, my dear, where are they?”

“Oh, they are—why they are…” Her eyes met his; a stark panic began to be seen within their depths. “I do not recall.” Confusion covered her features. “Darién, I do not recall. Why do I not know where my family is?” She reached out and clasped his arm—instantly reverting back to the flesh-and-blood girl before him.

It was a mistake. A painful mistake.

“Aleyna?”

Instantly her face and body contorted and she buckled under the intense pressure building within her. He knelt with her as the queen collapsed to her knees. Tears had begun to spring to her eyes within moments.

“Darién…Darién, what is happening to me?”

“Shh…” He collected her face in his hands, brushing aside her fallen hair. “Aleyna, I need you to focus on me. Can you center on me, my dear?”

A small whimper escaped her closed lips as she nodded her head and focused in on his gaze.

“Does it hurt?” he asked, knowing the answer.

Inhaling a shaky breath, she nodded and whimpered again.

His heart lurched. “Is there screaming?”

She squeezed her eyes tight, a silent sob racking her body as she clung to him. “Do not—do not—Darién, do not leave me. Please.”

“I promise I will not leave you to suffer alone. I give you my word.” He wiped the tears from her cheeks. “I should though, I should run a thousand miles from you so you do not have to face this horror, but I cannot. You must conquer this, my dear, you must.”

“What-what is it?” She took a couple of deep breaths before looking up at him. “What am I seeing? Please tell me.”

“Shh… oh, my dearest, shh…” His hands nervously wove through her hair.

She pulled her head away, her fingers still clutching his arms. “Darién, tell me! If you know, then tell-tell me, please! Is this what Ezralon hid from me yesterday?”

“Yes. This is what happened to you. Do you really want to know what it is?”

“Half of the agony I am facing at the moment, is I have no idea what is going on. Why must I feel this? Why must I see this brutality—what is it I’m seeing?” Her head jerked—her eyes widened in horror, looking past his shoulder to an unseen spot she shouted, “Oh my—NO! No! It is my brother!” She gasped, her gaze clouding with the unseen vision. “ It is our dear Villeria… She is killing him—she is killing them all!” She shook her head as great distraught sobs relieved themselves from within her. “Why would she do such a thing? No…no…NO!”

Darién quickly held the weeping girl while she thrashed and raved against him. It took every ounce of strength he had to hold her still. He had to get her to see reason or all was lost. “Aleyna, Aleyna. No, you cannot. Aleyna, you must remain calm, my dearest. Look at me, focus on my words and look at me. Find my eyes, my dear…calm yourself or I may die too.”

She stopped. “What?”

“Ezralon told me last night that if you cannot remain calm during this turmoil she will come back and kill me as well.”

“No…” she shook her head. “No. You cannot die too. I will not lose you, not now, not ever.”

“Shh…I am going nowhere. I promise you, I have waited decades to be with you again, I will not abandon you now—we are the only hope, you and I together. I want to conquer Villeria, but I cannot do it without you, just as you could not without me.”