Sleeping Charming

1

I spend every Saturday morning by the pond behind the castle feeding the ducklings. Every year, a new litter trails the mother duck across the smooth water of the pond, and every year, I name each one. This morning, Finnegan, Theodosia, Marigold, Cassiopeia, and Herman waddle over to greet me. Their mother, Elesia, is familiar with me, and feels no fear in my presence. She sits by contentedly as I toss bits of bread to the ducklings.

"That's right, eat up," I encourage. Finnegan, impatient for her bread, waddles up to my hand and throws back her wings, swinging her head. "You're hungry, aren't you?" I say, offering a crumb. She picks it right out of my hand.

"You need to teach your children better manners," I scold Elesia. She blinks uncomprehendingly at me. "Well, I suppose you would, if ducks had manners."

She has a smaller number of ducklings this year. Usually, there are seven or eight of them, and I have difficulty keeping track of them. This year, though, there are only five, meaning I can distinguish them easily based on wing shape and color. She laid three more eggs, but they were taken by hawks.

I raise my head to the soft sky, searching for any predators that may want to eat my precious ducklings. Nothing, except the distant clouds and the towering points of pine trees. The pond is nestled a few feet into the woods behind the towering stone fortress that is my house. I feel much more at home in the woods than in the castle, though.

My parents don't often like finding me back here. The woods have a reputation for being dangerous. Giant wolves, ogres, even man-hunters are rumored to live here. I've only ever ventured as far as the pond, though, so I don't consider myself to be in any trouble right now. Besides, if Elesia comes here every spring to raise her children, how dangerous could the pond be?

The ducklings are poking my hand, and I don't have any more bread. "Sorry," I say, rising to my feet and brushing off my plain blue dress. "I'll come back later when I have more."

I'm about to venture back when I hear footsteps snapping twigs, then a voice. "Cat? Are you down here?"

"Over here, Wisteria," I call.

A young woman, about my age, appears through the heavy pines. Some might describe her as plain, but that's because she isn't wearing any makeup. As my personal handmaid, she isn't allowed to wear adornments that may draw attention to her. I think she's the most beautiful person I know, though. Deep brown eyes, freckles splattered like droplets of paint, and a gentle mouth that is currently bent into a frown.

"Cataria! You know you're not supposed to be down here!" Wisteria says, taking my hand and tugging me away from the pond.

"I was just about to head back," I defend. "And besides, I was only feeding the ducklings."

She glances back at the fluttering wings of the excited ducklings, who are watching the confrontation like a dramatic play, but doesn't slow down. "It's dangerous in the woods," Wisteria says. "How many times do I have to tell you?"

"More times than this," I mutter.

"Seriously, you must be more careful."

"You didn't use to be like this. Remember when we sat out and fed the ducklings together? You haven't even gotten to know them this year."

"I'm just looking out for you, Cat," Wisteria says. "You know you need to be more careful. Ever since the disappearance—"

"I know," I say shortly. "But some random man in town vanishing is different from a princess vanishing."

"Humphrey Stewardson is no random man," Wisteria chides. "You know he was the most affluent banker in the kingdom. If he can be kidnapped, you certainly can."

"We don't know that he was kidnapped," I counter. "Chances are, he probably ran away."

"And abandoned his career, his fortune, his family? I don't think so, Cat. Besides, you're not supposed to be going back here, anyway. It's against the law."

"Oh, right. Just because my father is the king, doesn't mean he can make rules for me that are legally binding. They're just rules, Wisteria. And rules were meant to be broken."

"Not these ones," she says with a shake of her head.

We're almost to the castle when we hear a bugle call echoing from the distance. Our heads snap towards each other and our eyes lock. There's only one thing a bugle call means.

Foreign royalty is visiting.