Was looking through my story folders and found a few fairy-tales I'd started. Can't decide whether to do an anthology of them. They're fun to write, but is there an audience for romance set in the world of fairy tales?
This one is the start of a story called,
There Are Worst Things Than Me in the Forest
1550 words
Only the birds saw her sneaking out of the secret gate in the palace garden wall. Their sharp vision saw through the invisibility cloak she’d stolen, no borrowed, from the court magician. She was fully intending to hang it back on its hook in his alchemy-chamber as soon as she returned. When she’d seen it unattended, its owner nowhere in sight, she hadn’t been able to resist a rare jaunt away from the confines of the palace.
Away from her boring duties as princess in waiting.
Making her way along the path that flanked the enchanted forest, she couldn’t help shivering. Whether with the excitement of breaking free, or because of the tales told by her old nurse of fierce wolves and bloodthirsty brigands, of evil witches and greedy dwarves, she could not tell.
“I’m telling the queen. I’m telling the queen,” the old crow croaked. Princess Lania ignored the spiteful prattletale, picked up the hem of her cloak and started to run. She had no idea how much magic was left in the cloak but was determined to achieve at least one dream this summer’s afternoon.
Passing the travellers on the road, who had no clue she was even there, let alone that they walked right by their princess, was a thrill such as she had never experienced. When she pitched a farm boy’s hat onto the road, holding it for a moment in front of his astounded eyes, she could hardly contain the laughter. The sparrows, her dearest friends, flew alongside her, along with a gaggle of chattering magpies, who would not rest until they found out where she was going.
Ahead of her, she spied the Lake of Blue Waters, glistening in the afternoon sun. She’d crossed it once, on the Golden ship, to attend the coronation of the king in The Kingdom on the Other Side, but though she had often fantasised of doing so, she had never yet experienced the pleasures of swimming in its clear waters.
Something she was putting right the moment she reached its shores.
Finding a secluded spot on a shady bank, she dropped the cloak and started on the lacings of her gown. That too fell to the ground, along with her chemise. Warm air ghosted over her bare skin and she took a moment to luxuriate in the sheer joy of freedom. As she twisted her hair into a knot, she dipped a tentative toe into the water.
Heaven. The water was silky smooth on her skin, warm and inviting. She waded in with a sigh and leaned back, closing her eyes against the blindling brightness of the sun and allowed herself to just be.
Was there anything more wonderful than this?
The loud snap of a twig brought her to her senses so sharply, she almost drowned in her efforts to get back to the shore and the safety of her cloak. Grabbing the cloak, she flung it over her shoulders, and looked around.
Nothing. Screwing up her eyes, she peered into the trees skirting the lake. This time her shivers were nothing to do with excitement and everything to do with the dark shape now emerging into the light.
A man. Tall, and in peasant’s clothing. A felt hat hanging from his back. Stout boots on his feet. He stood for a moment, hands on hips, head sweeping from side to side, missing nothing as he surveyed the scene.
Princess Lania eyed her clothes, lying discarded at her feet and carefully, she stooped to retrieve them and hide them safely under the cloak.
Unfortunately, the man saw them too and in two strides was upon them and lifting them up, a puzzled expression clouding his features. He brought the bundle to his nose and gave a deep sniff. Then he sniffed the air and a slow smile formed on his lips. Putting out a hand, he batted the air between them.
Princess Lania ducked away from the probing hand. She’d almost cried out when he’d tested the air between them and pressed her lips together to stop herself making a sound.
Don’t panic. He can’t see you. You can easily skirt him and get back to the palace unharmed. But only if you don’t panic.
She would worry about explaining the loss of her gown later. Carefully, she stepped away, too late realising she should have been watching where she stepped in her bare feet. A sharp thorn pricked her heel and she couldn’t help the gasp of pain.
The man’s head turned towards the sound. He sniffed again.
Princess Lania froze. Perhaps keeping still was the better plan. The man would grow bored, realised there was nothing here and leave.
Then she heard a low chuckle followed by a soft curse.
Looking down, she saw herself as plain as day. The cloak had indeed been low on magic charge. She was standing, naked as the day she was born out in the world without an escort and being ogled by a man with the most compelling eyes she’d ever seen.
Not good. Not good at all.
Of course, being a princess, she was well equipped to cope with such emergencies. Straightening her spine, she held out her hand.
“My clothes, if you please.”
“You want these?”
The man held up the bundle, his gaze never leaving her. How dare he ogle her so openly. She would have him thrown into the deepest dungeon for this.
Lifting her chin, she said, “Do you know who I am? Hand me my clothes this instant.”
The man shook his head. “Think I prefer you without them,” he said, opening the pack slung over one shoulder. “A woman like you shouldn’t wear clothes.”
“How dare you. You insolent…” Lunging at his pack, she attempted to wrestle her gown from his grip. He held her off easily, circling her with an arm hard as an iron band and pulled her against the wall of his chest.
“Let me go,” she demanded, in a voice more shaky than she would have liked. This close she had no doubt of his superior strength. How foolish she’d been
“My father will pay a good reward for my safe return. Take me back to the palace and I’ll see you receive riches beyond your wildest dreams.” Tilting back her head, she struggled to look up into his face.
“Now, what would I do with a reward?”
“Spend it on someone to wash your clothes, for a start,” she returned tartly. “You smell like an old fur rug.”
His rumbling laugh sent shivers racing over her skin. “Got all the reward I need right here,” he said with another laugh.
“You sir, are not a gentleman.” She couldn’t even kick him, for even if she could move, he was so hard and solid he would not feel it.
“No, mistress, I am not.”
He let her go, sliding her down his big body, but keeping fast her hand in his enormous paw.
She looked at him, then. Into eyes that were even more startling close up. They seemed to glow a deep amber, catching the sun, reflecting the light in a way she’d never before seen.
Her clothes landed at her feet.
“Dress yourself,” he ordered. “Before…just dress yourself.”
She couldn’t get into her chemise and gown fast enough. Laced the bodice with shaking fingers and slid her feet into her slippers. He bent and picked up the cloak.
For a moment she thought he meant to steal it and panic gripped her. The court magician would be madder than a scorched frog if he found his precious cloak missing.
“You’ll be in trouble if you don’t return this.”
She accepted it gratefully, feeling a little less vulnerable now she was clothed. Those eyes were still watching her, seeing right through her, but the earlier air of menace had receded.
“Do I have anything to fear from you, sir?” She might as well find out her fate now.
“You do not. But perhaps a princess should have more sense than to come out here alone. There are worst things than me in the forest.”
“Will you walk me back?” He was right. Without the cloak, she was like a sitting duck to a huntsman.
“I’ll see you safely back, don’t you worry about that.”
He touched two fingers to his forehead and then to her surprise, turned and melted back into the trees from which he’d appeared. One moment he was there, the next she was alone.
She broke into a run. Damn the man. If he wasn’t going to be a gentleman, she would just have to get back on her own. Then she would return the cloak and then she would sit in the sun until her hair dried. How she would explain wet hair to her nurse, she had no idea.
The homeward path was, thankfully, deserted. She looked over her shoulder more than once, convinced that she was being followed. But when she turned, the road behind her was empty. She quickened her pace.
When she reached the secret gate, she turned once more to make sure she was alone and then she saw it. The large white wolf standing beside the ancient oak. It nodded twice, then spun around and disappeared into the forest.
And she knew, she just knew she would be seeing it again.
