PRAISE FOR JENNI JAMES
Beauty and the Beast (Faerie Tale Collection)
“Jenni James takes this well loved faerie tale and gives it a paranormal twist. Very well written and hard to put down, even on my cruise vacation where I had plenty to do. Looking forward to others in Jenni’s Faerie Tale series. A great escape!”
—Amazon reviewer, 5-star review
Pride & Popularity (The Jane Austen Diaries)
“This book was unputdownable. I highly recommend it to any fan of Jane Austen, young or old. Impatiently awaiting the rest of the series.”
—Jenny Ellis, Librarian and Jane Austen Society of North America
“Having read several other Young Adult retellings of Pride and Prejudice - I must admit that Pride and Popularity by Jenni James is my top choice and receives my highest recommendation! In my opinion, it is the most plausible, accessible, and well-crafted YA version of Pride and Prejudice I have read! I can hardly wait to read the [next] installment in this series!”
—Meredith, Austenesque Reviews
“I started reading Pride and Popularity and couldn’t put it down! I stayed up until 1:30 in the morning to finish. I’ve never been happier to lose sleep. I was still happy this morning. You can’t help but be happy when reading this feel good book. Thank you Jenni for the fun night!”
—Clean Teen Fiction
Northanger Alibi (The Jane Austen Diaries)
“Twilight obsessed teens (and their moms) will relate to Claire’s longing for the fantastical but will be surprised when they find the hero is even better than a vampire or werewolf. Hilarious, fun and romantic!”
—TwilightMOMS.com
“Stephenie Meyer meets Jane Austen in this humorous, romantic tale of a girl on a mission to find her very own Edward Cullen. I didn’t want it to end!”
—Mandy Hubbard, author of Prada & Prejudice
“We often speak of Jane Austen’s satiric wit, her social commentary, her invention of the domestic novel. But Jenni James, in this delicious retelling of Northanger Abbey, casts new light on Austen’s genius in portraying relationships and the foibles of human nature—in this case, the projection of our literary fantasies onto our daily experience.”
—M.M. Bennetts, author of May 1812
Prince Tennyson
“After reading Prince Tennyson, your heart will be warmed, tears will be shed, and loved ones will be more appreciated. Jenni James has written a story that will make you believe in miracles and tender mercies from above.”
—Sheila Staley, Book Reviewer & Writer
“Divinely inspired, beautifully written—a must read!”
—Gerald D. Benally, author of Premonition (2013)
“Prince Tennyson is a sweet story that will put tears in your eyes and hope in your heart at the same time.”
—Author Shanti Krishnamurty
ALSO BY JENNI JAMES
Jenni James Faerie Tale Collection:
Beauty and the Beast
Rumplestiltskin
Cinderella
Snow White
The Jane Austen Diaries:
Pride & Popularity
Northanger Alibi
Persuaded
Emmalee
Mansfield Ranch
Sensible & Sensational
Eternal Realm Series:
Eternity
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
I would like to thank my Heavenly Father for helping me create such a unique and magical story. And for allowing me to wake up and bravely face the world as it truly is.
This book is dedicated to my dear friend Tiffani
Thank you for the wonderful shopping trips, giggles and princess name calling.
You will forever be Sleeping Beauty to me!
CHAPTER ONE
QUEEN ALEYNA’S EYES FLUTTERED open and she smiled at the shimmering sunlight which streamed through her bedroom curtains. Another beautifully perfect day. She stretched and wiggled her toes under the navy blue crushed velvet duvet and slipped out of the golden sheets to pad across the floor to her window.
The world beneath her castle tower was bathed in a sea of greens and yellows and glorious multicolored blossoming bushes and trees. Her village was nestled among rolling hills and streams and winding cobblestone paths that jutted out all around the lower portion of the mountain, where her castle was happily situated, and spread to the valley below. Many homesteads and farms and fields of bounteous crops covered the great landscape as far as the eye could see.
Indeed Aleyna’s kingdom was one of the most sought after and desired realms in all the world. She could not believe her good fortune in having such a prosperous and superior land. Her subjects were also known to be quite magnificent and studious in their own way as well. And to reward them for their kindness and diligence she always guaranteed they were treated above that of other monarchies and rulers around.
Her people were given several holidays each year, multiple gifts of food, household supplies, adornments and even many frivolous items would find their way into their homes from their dear queen. How she loved them. How she loved her land, her people, her life.
It was undeniably faultless.
An enchanted kingdom to be glorified and loved by all.
Aleyna sighed in contentment as she rested her head against the smoothly-plastered stone wall and looked out the windowpane. The birds chattered and chirped and flew in delightful winging dances in the sky as they popped in and out of wistful clouds. Here was joy. Here was life at its best and she could never imagine desiring anything more.
And yet, if one could step back and see the tragedy behind her contentment, one would know that all she witnessed below her, all she imagined above, all her hopes and dreams—were just that—dreams.
An illusion.
Queen Aleyna’s life was so desperately heartrending, so tragically sorrowful, that one would need to enchant the beautiful queen and all those surrounding her and with her—all of her dear subjects—into a state of never-ending bliss.
To allow her to unknowingly sleep through this horror, to allow her to heal through the pain she could not feel, to keep her from all those memories that would threaten to disarm and own her—she had to be kept in such a state. Until one who was worthy enough could come along and teach her, hold her, comfort her, release the joyful spell surrounding her contentment, and more importantly kiss her awake to the true being that was hers.
Until then, until one such worthy man came into her life and bravely fought those demons who sought to destroy her, Queen Aleyna’s existence was perpetually on hold.
And she was forever trapped within a state of no progression, wrapped in a bubble of peace, almost like a ghost, and eternally asleep to the harsh realities awaiting her. Ignorant to all but what she knew and could remember, she would be forever known as the Sleeping Queen…
***
Prince Darién laughed as he dodged another wayward thrust of the king’s sword. At this rate he and Michael, the King of Alemade, would be at it all night. He hooted as his friend lunged forward again. And as Darién quickly sidestepped the attack he could not help but taunt him, “Is this the greatest you’ve got within you? How can you hope to defend yourself, let alone a whole kingdom?”
The king grunted and swung his sword, missing the prince by a good six inches. “Perhaps if you held still long enough, I could show you how good my maneuvers are!”
Darién chuckled and took a step back, his foot slipping slightly on the wet grass of the castle lawn, before deftly lifting his sword and blocking two more wild attempts from Michael. “Admit defeat, old man, and I may let you live to see another day.” It was the same thing h
e said to the king each week as they practiced, and true to form his friend was quick to respond in kind.
“If you were not such a coward and could fight like a real man, I would be able to blacken your lights for you instantly.”
“Aw, yes, but we are not using fisticuffs, now are we? In fact we are—”
“And another thing! I am not an old man.” The king huffed as he haphazardly sliced his blade through the air. “I—” he stepped forward, “—am only—” steel smacked against steel, “—five years older than you.” Michael wiped his brow and cursed Darién’s impeccable sword fighting skills, it was impossible to attempt to break through any of his defenses. “And the last time I checked, you were twenty-four years old.”
“Yes, but twenty-four is still much younger than you!” Darién took two steps forward, arching his blade in the air and swiftly popping Michael’s sword right out of his hand. It flew gracefully, allowing the handle to be caught up by the prince, signifying the game was at an end.
Michael was drenched in sweat while Darién looked as though he had merely taken a leisurely stroll upon the grounds. “One of these days I am going to learn your secret,” said the king as he wiped his mouth on his shirtsleeve.
“My secret?” Darién walked over to the bush where they had hung their royal coats twenty minutes earlier, placing the swords down, he collected them. “And what secret is this?” He raised a dashing brow as he handed Michael’s bright green coat back to him.
The king shook the garment and waved off the servant who had run up to help, before slipping his arms into the sleeves. “Your ability to look so dashed cool and unaffected—so debonair—whilst in the midst of dueling, no less.”
Darién’s eyes twinkled as he put on his coat of navy with silver trimmings. “Did you not know? Us single men must practice these things in the looking glasses at home, just for such an occasion as this, for who is to know whether a stunning female will not come by and catch us looking a spectacle.” When the king grunted, he continued, “Well, you do have Cassandra, you know. And she is by far everything on this good earth that is praiseworthy indeed. But, with such a woman at your side and as your queen, be grateful you do not have to practice like I do.”
Michael raised his eyes heavenward briefly as he straightened the coat over his tan colored breeches. “If I believed half the nonsense you sputtered out, I’d be a very foolish man,” he said, before walking to the bush, collecting his sword, and sliding it within its sheath.
Darién laughed as he buttoned his coat. “You’d be a very foolish old man.”
“You know, I’d watch your crowing if I were you.” The king smirked and turned around. “Remember, boy, I know what truly does put you out of countenance—what you are most afraid of in all the world. So do not keep spouting your old jokes, for I guarantee I can make you squirm and sweat just like the rest of us.”
The prince snorted and walked over to his sword. He tilted his head to the side and smugly grinned as he looked up at Michael while sliding the blade in its scabbard. “There is nothing I’m afraid of on this globe. Nothing at all—so whatever you have against me, remember it is merely a child’s imaginings.”
“Oh-ho! First I am too old, and now I am a child who imagines?”
“That is not what I meant, and you know it.” Darién’s gaze settled on his friend, they were almost brothers—had been raised like brothers—and there was no one he trusted more. The redheaded king was handsome, extremely so, and had a beautiful blonde queen at his side to prove it. They’d begun to have a score of adorable little redheads and blondes themselves, and with the birth of the last one—a little girl all fiery curls and giggles—Darién founding himself longing to settle down as well. If only he could find a woman half as agreeable as Cassandra, he might just do it too.
But this sort of thinking would get him nowhere. He cleared his throat and explained, “I meant that whatever you believe me to be afraid of was most likely something you conjured up back when we were boys. So if in reality, I am afraid of it—which I highly doubt—then it was something that I’ve long past put behind me.”
The king smiled and patted him on the back. “I’m not discussing spiders or girls here. I’m talking about something much more terrifying in your eyes. In fact, I know you would change color at this moment if I were to speak of it, so lifeless and cold would you become.”
Darién pulled away laughing and began to head back toward the castle. “There is nothing you could say that would frighten me. Nothing.” He glanced back and waited for his friend to catch up to him. “Though, I am very curious what you believe you have got against me. Indeed this may be the most intriguing thing I’ve come upon all morning.”
“Should I tell you then?” asked the king as he stepped in stride with the prince.
“Oh, most definitely; you look too sure of yourself, I must take that smirk off your face. So out with it, man—do your best! I dare you to find something that would startle me.”
Michael’s grin grew. Truly, Darién was too easy to bait sometimes. He may be the better swordsman, but his own pride got too much in the way of rational thinking. Hesitating only a moment or two, he went ahead and satisfied his young friend. It was time the man realized he was not invincible—at least not when it came to things of a bone-chilling nature. “Ghosts, Darién. You have and will always be decidedly against the visitations of anything of the spiritual, ghouly, phantom, or specter realm—the realm of the dead.”
The king watched Darién’s face pale as his feet stalled, before continuing, “And no matter how old you or I become, that night of our first haunting will forever ring through my memories. And you, boy, would be a fool to deny such aversions.” His voice grew low and sinister just to guarantee the prince squirmed. “To deny it only warrants their return even more…”
CHAPTER TWO
EZRALON STOOD AND SHOOK out his snowy white mane, allowing the soft folds of his hair to settle gently against his neck and back. His horn shone for a moment as he stretched his aching limbs, it glistened of purest silver before diminishing to its normal brilliant white. The sleeping girl at his side stirred, and then curled upon a shimmery blanket against the soft leaves of the forest floor below him.
He looked down and watched the rise and fall of her shoulders marveling at the long tendrils of chestnut curls that wound their way down her back. She was quite simply the most beautiful human woman he had ever known to exist. It was her biggest downfall, that loveliness of hers, which is why he had to keep her protected; why he was determined to hide her away from the world until she had someone who could do the job better than he.
The unicorn sighed and walked a few steps away from the sleeping girl to drink the water from the river. It was perhaps unethical to do what he was doing, keeping her here alone and sheltered in a state of endless sleep, instead of allowing her to live her life, no matter how detrimental it would prove to be, but he simply could not risk losing her. Not now, not to the evil that waits and lurks within the wings to have a moment to pounce upon her. This enchanted queen was too valuable to those who desired her wealth, beauty, and power; and too priceless to those who knew she was their only hope of saving the kingdom.
No, he most likely was not in the right, but Queen Aleyna was needed greater than any mortal woman had ever been needed and so he secured her in this perfected slumbering world, trapped between a ghostly dream and sleeping reality, so she would not awake until it was time. Thus he and all those who needed her most would not lose her to the dark abyss awaiting.
Ezralon walked back from the water and checked the ground surrounding her to make sure Aleyna’s area was warm and dry, he concentrated a moment on the air to ensure its safety qualities and to make sure it kept her in the same state she had been for several years now.
The enchantment he had placed over the queen was to keep her going about her days at the castle in bliss and contentment, as an apparition of herself—almost like a ghost—waking, doing, be
ing all those things she had always done, but to keep her mind so preoccupied with flawlessness and service and goodness, that she never stopped to fully realize she wasn’t progressing. She did not wonder about a family of her own, or aging, or any little cares that might set her down a path into remembering who she really was. Instead, she was trapped within a state of perfection until Ezralon thought it expedient to let her truly live again.
The people she communed with every day were just imaginings—they were fraction-like existences of what she conjured up in her mind. Most of them were already dead—many had been killed during the Great War that took her brothers and her parents. Those that had survived had moved on, away from the desolation and terror of the evil awaiting to claim her throne. Though as they passed away from this life, they found themselves back to Queen Aleyna’s land, stuck there as a sort of floating spirit. They were trapped until she herself either died or fought the great battle awaiting her and freed them all.
The only people who were not under the enchanted spell as spirits with her were those of her family. Dark power as great as Villeria’s made certain Aleyna would never see her family again. Ezralon did what he could to protect her, but was helpless against the rest of the monarchy. They had sealed their souls before the fair beauty was born, and therefore had already entered into the covenant to allow Villeria free access to all they possessed if they could not repay her whatever it was she wished.
No one knew Villeria had become so corrupted then, no one knew the price she would ask for repayment would be impossible to give. Not one of them, not even Ezralon, could have predicted her to turn so vile—her hatred so festered and putrid as to wish them all dead. She wanted every single thing the monarchy possessed. Everything. And she purposely ensnared them all to guarantee it would happen. When she had the family sign the oath to allow them the ability to her guardianship—her protection of all their enemies, in exchange for whatever it was she desired of them—they were desperate to have this at any cost. For what was greater than the lives of their kingdom? Their people? Nothing, if it meant they were to be saved. And so the great king and queen vowed the family would give over anything she would desire if she used her great gifts to save them all.