The morning after the storm, Princess Katherine awoke feeling groggy and irritable. Joan was still fast asleep when Katherine began to stir, and though it was impossible to tell the time in the windowless room without a clock, Katherine could tell by her own body that the sun was up, and she would most likely be safe to make her way into the hall.
She contemplated waking Joan, but she decided against it. She was fully capable of dressing herself in a simple gown and undergarments, so she did so and made her way silently into the hallway. Practically running to the window at the end of the corridor, she let the light embrace her and assure her that day had come. The princess was free from her lingering demons for the next several hours. Katherine took a deep breath, as if she was able to inhale the sunshine and absorb it. Once she finally felt she had basked in the morning glow long enough, she glided down the nearby stairwell, her stomach suddenly reminding her it was time to break her fast.
Walking along the dark hallways of Castle Blackthorn, Katherine considered how she’d come to this place. She had arrived at the castle a little over two weeks ago, but her wedding to King Philip had been negotiated long before she came of age, and she had known for several years that someday she would marry Philip and become Queen Katherine of Clovington.
Katherine had always been indifferent to the idea of marriage. She knew it was a necessity, since she was a royal, but it wasn’t something she looked forward to. In her experience, most men were cruel and took what they wanted when they wanted it, with the exception, of course, of her sweet brother Prince James and her brother-in-law Kenneth Pierce, Duke of Mountaque, who was married to her sister, Queen Eleanora. Kenneth’s title was still duke, not king. No, Eleanora would never yield the smallest amount of her power to anyone, not even her own husband.
Yet, Eleanora had no problem arranging this marriage for Katherine. Her sister’s hand was not such a hard bargain to drive. Even before Philip’s father mysteriously died, Eleanora had been in negotiations with other members of the royal family of Clovington, assured that a match between little Katherine and young Philip would create a blissful state of peace between Katherine’s beloved Nadoria and the warmongering Clovington.
Katherine had almost reached the kitchen. The scent of baking bread wafted through the air as thoughts of Nadoria had her missing her homeland. It was a port kingdom, bordered by a high range of mountains to the north with three deep bays to the west, allowing easy trade by sea with any kingdom with marketable goods. She knew why Philip had wanted to marry her. Nadoria would be an ideal ally to landlocked Clovington. Her sister’s navy was strong, as was the army that protected the Nadorian border. Katherine was a prize to be won.
Likewise, Nadoria would benefit from the guarantee of peace with its most threatening neighbor. Though Eleanora loved her much younger sister dearly, she had not hesitated to make arrangements that would benefit her kingdom, and the small expense of her sister’s potential happiness had been of little consequence at the time so many years ago. If Eleanora had it all to do again, Katherine couldn’t say for sure if she would make the same choice now, but it didn’t matter. The agreement had been signed years ago.
For all of those years, Katherine had been preparing herself for her journey to Blackthorn. She had been granted more time with her family throughout the years due to the constant state of war Clovington had been in for as long as she could remember. War meant home for Katherine, so each time she’d heard of Clovington attacking another neighbor, she had breathed a sigh of relief.
Since Katherine’s sixteenth birthday, almost four years ago, the halls of Castle Meadington had whispered with rumors that the time had come. With each rise in the wave of secreted remarks, Katherine braced herself for a summons to her sister’s court. However, those waves would crest, washed away by reports of battles raging on the northern side of Clovington, and Katherine would relax into her normal routine for a period of time until the walls began to speak her name in conjunction with King Philip again.
If there was a rumor, Katherine was sure to hear it. She knew every passageway, every tunnel, every dark nook and cranny of Castle Meadington, and she used this to her advantage. She did not consider herself an eavesdropper, but her virtual invisibility due to her diminutive stature and quiet nature allowed her to often go unnoticed in a crowded room. These characteristics lent themselves to her ability to find out information like no one else. Often, people tended to speak about Katherine as if she wasn’t present and make statements to her, or in front of her, that they would never want to hear repeated. There was a very good reason for this. No one ever worried about Katherine repeating anything because she never did.
Katherine was mute.
Passing a servant woman in the hall just outside the kitchen, the princess smiled warmly. In her plain dress, she realized the maid might not recognize her, which was all right with the princess. Smiling, the older woman said, “Good morrow,” and Katherine nodded in return, watching the woman slow and study her for a moment before hurrying on. It was a normal reaction, others waiting to see if she would respond to their greeting. Katherine tried not to let it bother her and ducked into the kitchen to find something to eat.
The kitchen staff was bustling about, preparing food for the other nobles who occupied the castle. Katherine never cared for an elaborate meal this early in the morning and was thankful Philip never invited her to such an event. She stood on the periphery a long moment and then waited to pluck an apple and a small loaf of bread from one of the baskets on the counter. No one seemed to see her, so she slipped them into her pocket and headed out the door, back into the halls of Castle Blackthorn.
Walking along toward her own chambers, Katherine thought about what her sister, Eleanora, had said to her upon her departure. The princess had been worried about meeting Philip for the first time, not knowing what he may think of her. “Don’t worry, little one,” Eleanora had said, addressing her as if she was the same four-year-old she’d been the last time Katherine had spoken. “He will be taken aback by your beauty. Your eyes are the color of the ocean, your auburn hair as stunning as the rising sun. When a young man dreams of meeting a princess, it is a face like yours he wishes to see. You will not disappoint King Philip. Every man who lays eyes on you is instantly infatuated with your beautiful smile.”
Katherine had grinned at her sister, glad to hear the queen thought she was so lovely, but it hadn’t truly set her mind at ease. While every citizen of Nadoria knew Katherine’s situation—that she didn’t speak—how would the aristocrats of Clovington react to her differences? More importantly, how would Philip? While she was certain her sister had explained the situation to him, hearing of her inability to communicate through spoken language and experiencing it for one’s self were two different things.
Many visitors from other kingdoms over the years had felt inclined to test the situation for themselves, and Philip had been no different. Katherine took a bite from her apple and thought about the day she’d met him in the throne room, here at Castle Blackthorn. She’d thought he was handsome, but her nerves had overcome her. She’d stood before him, her hands shaking beneath her cloak.
Philip had taken her in, his dark eyes piercing through her outer layer of clothing, and then began some polite conversation, including questions for which she could not nod or shake her head in response. Philip had seemed slightly annoyed at that first encounter, but he hadn’t been angry or disappointed.
That would come later, at dinner. Though Katherine had done her best to answer what she could, signaling when possible, it was truly up to her lady-in-waiting, Joan, to answer on her behalf. Joan was almost always by Katherine’s side for just this purpose, if nothing else, and while Philip seemed bothered by her presence at first, he eventually began to adjust his conversation to include questions that Joan could answer for the princess. Thus, Philip began to speak about Katherine in her presence as if she was not there. She was used to this as most people had done the same as far back as she could remember, but she had hoped it would be different with her husband-to-be. That first night, it had become apparent to Katherine that there was no chance that she could ever fall in love with King Philip.
This had only been mildly disappointing. She did not trust men as a general rule, and seeing Philip as a potential love interest would only complicate her feelings about members of the opposite sex. She did find him attractive, though. There was something about his rugged appearance, his strong square jaw, the way he commanded the room, which stirred feelings inside of Katherine that she had never experienced before. She couldn’t quite explain even to herself what this feeling was, but she noticed it each time he was near, and it both alarmed and excited her. This was further complicated by the fact that she quickly confirmed Philip was a terrible person, and she was terrified of being left alone with him, especially in the dark.
In the dimly lit passages of Castle Meadington, Katherine had heard stories of King Philip’s crimes against humanity, particularly against the citizens of Zurconia, their beloved queen, and her loving husband. She had thought, at the time, before she came to Blackthorn, perhaps these were just rumors. The people of Meadington liked to tell stories, to elaborate. The tales made her uncomfortable, but she did her best to stay true to the man she would marry and give him the benefit of the doubt.
Then, she’d come to Blackthorn and found they weren’t made-up stories at all. The same rumors she’d heard before she’d come to meet her husband-to-be echoed from the lips of the servants here when they assumed no one was listening. Though Katherine was indifferent to the idea of marrying Philip, or anyone for that matter, she did not approve of his tactics, and her heart ached for the captured king she knew dwelt somewhere within the walls of Castle Blackthorn. If Philip could be so cruel to King Matthew and his wife, who was to say he wouldn’t do something similar to her?
In the few days she had lived within the damp, moss-covered walls of the sprawling complex of winding passages, secret hallways, and cavernous tunnels known as Blackthorn, she had yet to discover where the captured king was being held. Just as she was able to pass almost undetected through the maze in her own home of Meadington, she quickly learned to navigate through Blackthorn without as much as an inquisitive glance from the other inhabitants. With little else to keep her occupied during the day, she had decided to use these skills to begin her quest to find King Matthew, though she had no idea what she might do if she were able to locate him. It wasn’t as if she’d ever have the power to set him free, not even once she became queen.
So far, she had only covered a small portion of the fortress, but she knew that, if she continued to use her ability to listen in on secretive conversations to her advantage, she would soon ascertain exactly where the widower king was living out his numbered days.
In the meantime, she knew Philip had plans to draw out Matthew’s beloved brother and finish him off in one apocalyptic battle. She heard members of the military discussing strategies behind closed doors and even in the hallway. His plans were faulty, however. Philip wasn’t winning this war as easily as he had when Zurconia had been the goal, and with the king preoccupied with defeating King Caleb of Arteria, it seemed Katherine’s wedding just might have to wait. The princess was not upset by this in the least.
Philip’s frustration at the situation came through in every conversation, every order, every flinch of his fist, and grimace on his handsome face. The walls were whispering again, and Katherine would use their information for her gain. She knew there was not much she would be able to do to help the captive king once his location was determined, but she felt compelled to find him as quickly as possible, and she had learned from experience to listen to that small voice inside.
Though it was still relatively early, the halls were beginning to bustle with activity. Katherine knew that she had been right to initially question whether those rumbles the night before had been of a more sinister nature. Something was astir.
When she’d first arrived, Philip had mentioned the possibility of spending a great deal of time with Katherine, but that had been nothing more than wishful thinking on his part. Katherine knew she probably would not see him much, if it all, that day. She might dine with him for the evening meal if his schedule allowed. If not, she’d eat in her own chambers with Joan, thankful that she was only required to share the company of someone she cared for.
Back in the more familiar area of Blackthorn, Katherine continued to munch on her apple as she made her way into the library. This was one of her favorite places at Blackthorn and one of the only rooms with enough natural light to be considered acceptable in Katherine’s opinion. She also found that, due to the close proximity to the war room, many interesting conversations took place in this space, often without any acknowledgement whatsoever that she was even present. She found out a lot of information from her “fellow bibliophiles” and spent many hours gathering tidbits while snuggled in a comfortable chair under the sheepskin blanket near the fireplace.
The princess selected one of her favorite books from a shelf by the window, assumed her normal seat, and almost lost herself in an incredible story from a far-off land just before she detected footsteps outside of the door. With hushed voices, two men entered the room, and her eyes ceased scanning the words while the story she was weaving quickly lost every ounce of fiction.
Katherine knew that Philip’s Uncle Edward was one of the men who had entered the room before she even heard his voice. Approaching sixty and suffering from complications from obesity, Edward carried around him a distinct cloud of odiferous objectionable identifiers. A pungent mixture of salve, herbal remedies, and body odor, Edward announced his pending arrival moments before he actually reached one’s field of vision. He also walked with a scraping limp, which would have aided even the weakest-of-nose in determining his identity before he drew near.
“The Tower at Glendor should have held. I cannot for the life of me understand how it was breached. Two thousand men. Two thousand men!” he spat at whomever was accompanying him. Katherine still could not tell who the slighter of the two men was, perhaps a leader of one of Philip’s armies or another of his advisors. She held her book still in front of her, the apple core in her hand dangling in front of her chin as she listened.
The two men were still out of her direct line of vision, but Katherine could see their shadows just inside the doorway. It was as if they had ducked in to speak in private, not realizing, or perhaps not caring, that Katherine was also in the room.
“Yes, sir,” the other man replied. Katherine heard the clanking of chainmail, an indicator that this man was part of Philip’s army. “We believed the wall to be impenetrable, particularly so near the tower, but they found a way to get through. We had them outnumbered two-to-one! But, well,” he stammered, apparently still unsure of exactly how to explain what had happened, “once they broke the line, the troops began to fall back. I could not… we could not hold them.”
Edward slammed his fist against the wall. Katherine jumped as the reverberation filled the space around her. They still did not take note of her presence. “Listen, Cuthbert,” he said, pounding the soldier on the arm, “It does not matter to me what you thought could or could not happen. What has transpired is that the Arterian Army is pouring past our last line of defense. At the current rate, they will be standing in these very halls in less than two weeks. That does not happen. Re-gather your troops. Form a new last line of defense. Use the thick swamp of the Lowetian Forest to your advantage, and hem them in. King Philip may not understand the implications of this breach, but I do!” There was another blow to the wall, this one even harder. Edward, unable to control his rage, grabbed Cuthbert and slammed him up against the hard oak door. “This infiltration goes no further! Find a way to stop them!”
Cuthbert grimaced, his air cut off from the large, gnarly hand near his throat. Katherine tried not to gasp as she watched the soldier struggling to breathe. “Yes, yes, sir. I will.”
Edward stared forebodingly at the smaller man. “Good.” He patted Cuthbert on the shoulder, a jarring motion that did not match his affirmative words. “Good, you do that. You find a way. Or else, I am holding you personally responsible.” He finally released Cuthbert, who reached up to rub his arm but thought better of it, though it was likely already beginning to ache. “Now, let’s go up to the tower and pay our guest a visit. Let’s see if we can get him to tell us some information that will be helpful to our cause.” Edward began his slow, cacophonous march out of the library and down the hall, Cuthbert behind him.
Katherine waited a moment for them to move away from the door. She knew they were going to see King Matthew, and she wanted to follow them, but she also wanted to avoid being detected. There was no way they would knowingly let her trail after them. At least now she knew Matthew was being held in one of the towers. Unfortunately, Castle Blackthorn had several ominous black towers with high, pointed parapets that jetted out of the structure like thorns. She heard Edward down the hall, approaching a turn, and decided it was time to follow.
Silently placing the book back on the shelf, she tossed the apple core out the window and then made her way to the door, peeking down the hall before opening it and slipping out. She could just see the heel of Cuthbert’s black military boot rounding the corner to the right. She knew that the hall only had one possible next turn, to the left, so she took extra precaution to be quiet as she made her way after them.
She almost didn’t make it to the end in time to see where the pair went. It was not to the left as she had anticipated. The princess watched as the two men created an opening in the wall. There had to be a secret button somewhere that caused the wall to slide open.
Katherine ducked around the corner, just in time to avoid being seen by Edward as he glanced over his crooked shoulder to make sure they were not being followed. Then, he and his still visibly shaken minion disappeared into what should have been solid stone, and the wall closed behind them.
Katherine hesitated. Knowing there was a secret passage in the wall got her that much closer to finding Matthew, yet following now could be extremely dangerous. She was not sure what might be on the other side of the secret door. It could be an easily navigable path that allowed her to follow in secret, or she could find herself in a situation where she was trapped. It would not be easy to explain what she was doing in a secret passage, especially without being able to speak, so she needed to be extremely cautious. Edward did not seem the type to show leniency to snooping newcomers.
She decided to wait. If Edward and Cuthbert came out the same way that they went in, there was a good possibility that she would be able to find Matthew without having to follow anyone. If they did not, that meant there were other secret passages here, and she may have more trouble. Nevertheless, she now knew two critical pieces of information: Matthew was being held in a tower, and the way to reach him lie somewhere within the walls of Castle Blackthorn. Katherine retreated back into the shadows, prepared to wait as long as necessary.