There were so many mysteries to be solved. So many questions to this legend he needed to understand before he made the mistake of rushing into things. If she was to resume the horror of the night she was enchanted at the moment she awoke, then he would need to proceed with great caution. He could not risk waking her too soon. Neither of them was ready for her to face whatever evil had done this to her kingdom. But how did one go about giving a girl who was asleep to reality the ability to accept and train for real life?

  Darién shook his muddled head as he entered the abandoned kitchens attempting to block the questions that swam there and instead focus on the task at hand—finding a broom and perhaps a bucket and water as well.

  “Well, hello there!” Aleyna was surprised to see the prince walk into such lowly rooms. Embarrassed, she dipped into a curtsy before remembering it was he who should pay her such honors.

  “Your Majesty,” Darién attempted to hide a grin and swept a low bow, “forgive me for interrupting you. I did not realize you were here. I will leave.”

  “No!” She stepped forward, she could feel her cheeks reddening at her outburst. “Please stay. Did you need something? Cook and I were just discussing the meal this evening. But if you need to speak with me, we can step into another room privately. If you wish.”

  Aleyna’s mind swirled. Was it proper to attend a prince privately in another room? She could not remember the correct rules and etiquette concerning such matters. And were queens usually so brazen? Could he tell all she wanted was for another moment alone with him? She blushed again.

  “I—uh…” The prince cleared his throat. “I would be happy to consult with you. Lead the way.”

  She turned and held her trembling palms in front of her dress so he could not see her edginess and silently led the way into the gleaming little dining room. The footmen had been to work and already lit the chandeliers above the rich mahogany table. The smell of beeswax proved they had just shined the furniture. There was a service for five set up, even though no one would be eating for another couple of hours.

  “What can I do for you?” Her hands nervously rearranged the floral centerpiece that had been placed there that morning for her. Every day the gardener sent up a newly picked bouquet of flowers for her supper meal. The bouquets that were still fresh were sent throughout the house in other rooms and the maids attended them. It was a tradition started by her mother and one she had kept ever since. “My mother would have loved this bouquet had she been here to see it,” she mused out loud.

  My mother.

  My mother?

  Aleyna had heard mention of her mother often over the last several years, but her memories of her were—did she have memories of her mother? A flash of confusion and pain swept through her body and her knees buckled slightly as she stumbled against the tabletop. What was happening?

  “My Queen, are you well?” Darién stepped forward and placed a hand on her shoulder. Instantly she began to change and become more alive, more colorful again.

  Aleyna moved away from his hand. Her whole insides were twisting into great knots. She needed to leave, needed to breathe, needed to think. The prince simply could not see her like this. A spark of light blinded her for a moment and then the cries and screams began. As if launched within a living nightmare—her ears exploded with the desperate cries of those all around her. Who were they? What was happening? She stumbled again and barely caught herself upon the back of a chair, her head titling precariously over the seat.

  “Your Majesty, you are ill. Let me assist you, please.” Again Darién stepped forward to hold her and she pushed against his arm, the contact causing her hand to change before him, until she let go and staggered backward. She was going to fall. He could not let her fall in front of him. He walked toward the translucent girl, his arms outstretched ready to catch her if needed. “What is occurring? Can you explain your symptoms so that I may be of some aid to you? Indeed, you look very ill.”

  She covered her ears and winced, her feet faltering in their attempt to get away. Get out of the room. Leave this noise. “I cannot—” she gasped out, “I cannot s-say what is happening—I do not know. The screams are s-so loud…must…stop.” A tear escaped as another twist of pain seared through her insides and she collapsed with a moan—hitting the ground with a thud.

  “Aleyna!” her name escaped unbidden from his lips. In a moment he was on the filthy floor and she was captured up in his arms, held closely against chest. Her soft pain-filled whimpers nearly undid him. His heart was raw from the agony he could see on her now fully opaque face, as her hands still attempting to block the sounds only she could hear. She should not suffer like this—no woman should—but not her, not now, not after all she has endured before. “Aleyna,” he whispered. “Aleyna, my dear, is that it? Are you hearing your past, my Queen? Has it unlocked within you?”

  Her body shuddered at his words and on instinct she wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her head against him tighter.

  His own hand wound up and held her delicate ear for her and kept the other close to his heart. “Shh…” he crooned softly. His breath stirring the disrupted tendrils of hair on her forehead. “Shh…I am here. You are not going to suffer alone, my dear. I will not leave you. I am here.”

  ***

  Ezralon whipped his head up at the flickering, trembling dome. It is happening! She is beginning to remember. No, not yet. Not like this, it will be too agonizing for her. The girl groaned and jerked slightly beside him. Already her pretty features were scrunched in pain and he knew he could not waste another moment. Her features began to fade and her groans turned to slight whimpers, he knew the prince was with her and had connected to her. Possibly holding her, even now. The only thing left would be to kiss her—he had to get to the prince immediately to guarantee he did not allow his lips to contact hers until she was in a more calm state of mind or it could be the ruin of her.

  Standing up, he strengthened the dome as best he could, chanting a small spell to guarantee she remained safe, and then he was off racing, his silver mane flowing, toward the hidden gateway in the forest he had created all those years ago that would allow him instant passage to her kingdom.

  Being near the boy must have triggered her to remember something. Just coming close to the one who can break the enchantment could be detrimental to those who have truly suffered as she had. If she was not mentally stable enough to handle the change and memories that would come upon her, she would go mad herself. Villeria would recognize an interruption to her mental state immediately and would swoop down on them both, while they were dazed and confused and destroy them.

  Why did he not think of this sooner?

  Why did he not realize the prince’s presence could unlock memories within her?

  He should have been there to greet the lad and fill him in on all the oddities surrounding such a fragile affair as this.

  Ezaralon was certain the prince would have seen her happy, and then kiss her, and then life would continue on as it should, with him reintroducing her into society and catching her up on all that had happened and being with her fully and comforting her to help ease the remembrances as they came back to a sound mind. Then once the spell was broken, he would have come to them both and helped prepare them for Villeria’s presence.

  He purposely did not involve himself in such matters, as the prince and queen meeting, allowing them to happen organically. One does not simply waltz in and disturb enchantments—they are very particular things, and one false movement and all could be lost.

  However, now it would seem she would lose all if the prince kissed her awake at this time.

  CHAPTER NINE

  THE SCREAMING BEGAN TO subside—it was not gone fully, but had dimmed significantly enough for her to make out the gentle thud thud of the prince’s heartbeat. Aleyna nestled in closer to his broad chest and splayed her fingers out across his back. Her hands began to take on a mind of their own as they imitated the action of his hand and bega
n to explore his back.

  Everywhere he touched tingles exploded along the path. It was like he was enveloping her in an affectionate cocoon. The roar of the cries were there, but far away and less daunting. She was safe now, safe and warm and protected.

  “Hmm…” she mumbled into his shirt.

  He removed his other hand from her ear and whispered near it, “Do you feel better now? Is the horror over?”

  She shook her head and replied very muffled, “No. I can still hear them, I just hear you more. It’s less frightening that way.” She felt his sigh and a small smile formed upon her mouth.

  “Good,” his deep voice vibrated through her.

  They remain together in silence for a few minutes, his hand running up and down her petite back, soothing her and calming her mind, while she explored his through the heavier cloth of his jacket. She tightened her hold and burrowed down closer and then inhaled slightly when his mouth kissed the top of her head.

  “Prince Darién?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why do you smell like dust?” She sniffed again. Yes, most definitely dust.

  “I—uh—”

  Pulling back a little, she took in the sight of his crumbled dirty shirt and jacket. “What has happened? You are completely covered in filth. You weren’t like this when you first came to the castle, were you?”

  Darién smiled down at her and raised an eyebrow. “You were not like this when I first came here either.”

  “Oh!” What must he think of her? She recalled where she was and with whom and tried to pull completely out of his arms, but he held her fast. “Please let me go.”

  “Shh…I will if you really want me to. But I feel you need just a minute more. You are not well enough to leave quite yet.” His green eyes gazed intently into hers, reading the worry and sorrow that lay hidden within their depths. “You can still hear the screaming, can you not?”

  She looked away and nodded.

  “It will be well, I promise.”

  Her eyes glanced back at his before looking down at his chest. “Do you truly believe so?”

  “Yes.” His mouth nuzzled the top of her head again, before trailing down to her forehead. “Aleyna?”

  “Hmm…?” Her lids closed as she raised her head a bit to allow him to kiss her there.

  “First of all, has any man ever told you how truly beautiful you are?”

  Her cheeks flushed and her lashes fluttered, but she did not pull away. “I do not remember any male saying such things to me.”

  “Well, my dear, you are remarkably beautiful. Now—“ he hurried on before she could protest or become too embarrassed again, “Can you tell me what you hear and what is happening to you? What is wrong?”

  Her brow furrowed and she snuggled back into his shoulder again, this time bringing her arms in and curling them against his chest. “I do not know what is happening. I just hear shouting and crying and screaming—so much terror. This is not typical crying; this is pain and suffering, so very much pain and suffering.” She shuddered against him.

  “Does it hurt you as well?”

  “Yes.”

  “What do you feel? Can you describe it?”

  “I am not certain. I t would seem as though a large stick has lodged itself in my stomach and is now twisting and stirring it about.”

  Darién pulled back and captured her face with his hands, his eyes intensely searching hers. “Is it causing you pain right this moment?”

  “Yes.”

  He felt so very helpless and frustrated. “What can I do to ease your suffering?”

  “You already are. Just this—as much as I am positive I will regret staying here with you upon the floor once my wits return—I know of no one who would have done this for me. No one who would have cared as you do. This helps more than you will ever know.”

  “I feel I was born to help you somehow, in some way.” No one but him would release the spell that was holding her captive—he could not bear the thought of some other prince doing what he was destined to accomplish. If only he could understand just what was happening to her.

  Aleyna looked up. “But you do not even know who I am. Why would you help a stranger? Someone you have only just met?”

  He searched her features trying to explain what he was feeling, trying to give voice to the pounding of his heart. There was significance in this moment, more than he could fully understand, but he knew—deep down he knew—she was someone he had known forever. Someone he had promised to protect and care for long before this earth life. He was only just now remembering, each moment—each fraction of a second—determined a new memory of her he had forgotten. Taking a deep breath he attempted to explain. “Have you ever met someone and recognized that you have always known them? They were more familiar to you than any person you have ever met before?”

  He felt it too! Her blood soared, her breathing increased—and so did the screams, louder than before. “Darién!” She winced, her head dropping to his legs, her hands holding her ears—trying desperately to muffle the sounds that were within her. Then the smells came. Horrid, putrid smells of burning, ashes, blood…. She began to sob—racking sobs shattered through her whole body—she felt as though she would die. Her sobs became wails of their own as she began to terrifyingly relive every cruel moment of her past—a past she had no idea she was reliving. People she did not know brutally murdered in front of her. Men and women torn limb from limb, their screeching howls echoing through the castle in a vibrant sea of angry, muted colors. Terror, rage, fear, fire, smoke…it was all there. All of it. And she could not break free.

  “Aleyna!” he shouted again, but could not be heard over her besieged sobs. He clutched her shoulders, trying to pull her up and away from the anguished abyss she was slipping into, her own tortured mind. “What do I do?” he yelled up at the cobwebbed ceiling, his hollow shouts reverberating back at him. “What do I do?! Michael! Humphrey! George! Someone, help me save her!”

  He heard the pounding of hooves before he saw the large white beast screech to a halt and come into the dining room. “Drop her! Let go of her now!” the unicorn snapped.

  Instantly Darién reached for the sword that was not there. “No! I will not leave her to be destroyed. Who are you? I will kill you if I must, do not doubt this!”

  Ezralon snorted, his breathing coming in heaving gasps. The run had taken its toll on him now that he had finally stopped. “I—am not your en-enemy. Do not cr-cross me, boy, but do as I say and drop her.”

  “Why should I listen to you?” Darién hedged praying this creature had truly come to help her.

  “You are the one causing her to remember. It is because of you she is in so much pain. Release her. Walk out of this room and she will become better.”

  “But how? Why is it me? I do not understand. And how can I trust you?”

  Aleyna writhed and screeched in an agony he never thought possible to come from human lips before. Darién set her down and stood up quickly, taking a few steps back. They both watched as she transformed back into the muted lines and transparent essence of a spirit, while she sobbed uncontrollably.

  “She needs me. I cannot do this.” Darién started to walk forward but the horn on the unicorn shone.

  “Do not cross me right now, boy. You will have her. I promise you, you will. You are correct, she does need you. But right now she must rest and ease her mind or all will be lost.”

  “I do not understand. What is happening?”

  “I am not fully clear myself, but if she has gotten to this state, we must have you walk away and leave her be. You are triggering memories for her and she will be lost if she is not ready for them. Go to your room; relieve your friends’ minds who are even now searching the place for you. And I will help her, all will be as it should be by supper time.”

  “But I—”

  “Go, my son. She will be fine, I promise.” Ezralon shook out his mane as he stood at his whole height. “I have not watched over her daily these
past thirty years, protecting her, to see my dear Aleyna die because of the foolishness of the man who was meant to save her. She cannot live without you. She has been waiting for you—you will have your chance, boy, just let me have mine first.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  DARIÉN RAN INTO THE hall, not wanting the others to see her in misery, not when she had help now. He could hear their shouts as they called for him. It really was an exceptionally large castle—at least twice the size of his or Michael’s homes.

  “I am in here,” he called out once he made it to the grand hall. “At the entrance of the castle—the room with the sword George loved.”

  By the time Michael and Humphrey had made their way to him, George was just coming in from taking care of the horses outside—his arms heavy with their supplies.

  “What is it?” asked Michael, as he and Humphrey rushed to the prince. “You were so distraught, but I could not make out your words.” He scanned his arms and legs. “You are not injured?”

  “No, it was nothing. I, uh—the queen startled me for a moment, but all is well.”

  Humphrey smirked and shook his head. “One of these days you are going to have to get over your aversion of her.”

  “What is this about?” George asked as he tossed the collected saddlebags on the ground, near the wall, causing a small plume of dust to swirl around their feet.

  Humphrey continued, “Moreover, I believe you do like her, if that little display earlier was anything to go by. You were positively dumbstruck.”

  “Well, would you not be, if you were holding her hands and watched her turn from phantom to a real flesh and blood beauty before your eyes?” George rubbed his hand through his hair; a slash of dirt ran the whole length of his forearm.

  Michael grinned. “We all will require details eventually, but for now—everything is fine?” His smile dimmed as his gaze searched the prince’s.