Principality of Alton
June 1998
By mutual agreement, the engagement ceremony was held at the castle of Prince Arne de Galon. It was scheduled for noon, with a celebratory banquet to follow. There wasn’t much time left until the appointed event.
In a large room adorned with flowers, tables had already been arranged in a U-shape.
On the wall behind the head table hung the hide of a brown bear, along with other hunting trophies. Prince Arne was renowned as an exceptional hunter.
The wooden floor echoed with the footsteps of a dozen pairs of feet. Servants bustled about, constantly bringing items to the tables.
Near the entrance, clad in a cloak with a black fur collar, stood an older man. In one hand, he held a long staff topped with a red crystal. His piercing black eyes stared off into the distance. Though physically present, his thoughts seemed to wander far away.
He was known as the Black Druid, having served the de Galon family loyally for many years. Twenty years ago, during a hunt, a massive brown bear attacked the young prince. It seemed death was imminent for the heir to the throne. Salvation came from an unexpected source—a boy with a powerful magical gift, lost in the forest, saved the future prince.
In gratitude, Arne kept the boy by his side. Later, recognizing his political talent, he made him his right-hand man. The man had long forgotten his true name. In his homeland, he was despised for his affinity for dark magic, but here, he was welcomed with open arms. To them, the color of magic meant nothing.
A servant opened a window, and the scent of roses wafted to his nose. The Black Druid smiled, stepping closer to the window that overlooked the castle courtyard.
The rumble of an engine sounded, and a car resembling an old-fashioned Ford pulled up to the main entrance. The Black Druid wasn’t well-versed in machinery, so he could easily be mistaken. The make he recalled was something he’d seen once in a picture.
A driver emerged to open the doors for the passengers. First out was a stout man in a formal black suit. A golden crown only drew attention to the bald spot on his head. Following him was a boy with dark blond curly hair—Prince Arthur. After them, a woman stepped onto the ground, dressed in a long, elegant gown with a small hat perched on her black curly hair. She was the Queen of Fargans, though not Arthur’s mother.
As the king and his entourage entered the castle, the Black Druid continued to watch them from the window.
Turning around, the man flinched in surprise, clutching his chest.
“Anela!” he said reproachfully, looking at the girl standing beside him. “I’m an old man!”
“Have they arrived already?” Anela glanced toward where the cars were parked.
“Yes, just now. The young prince, too.”
“Can you cast a spell or something? Like, start a fire?”
“I can’t!” the man replied curtly.
“So you’re on their side too?!” the girl flashed her blue eyes at him. “And here I thought you were my friend!”
“I am your friend, Princess,” the Druid said with a kind smile. “There’s no need to resist this engagement so much. Arthur’s a great kid!”
“He’s a jerk,” Anela muttered, pursing her lips.
“Boys change over time! I’m sure he’ll grow into a fine king someday.”
“You can’t know that for sure. Even my mother can’t see our future.”
“I swear to you!” The man crouched down to be at eye level with her. “If I see him disrespecting you in any way, I won’t allow the marriage. Your happiness matters to me, just as it does to your parents. Whether you’re the Princess of Alton or the Queen of Fargans, it makes no difference.”
The girl gratefully wrapped her arms around the Druid’s neck, burying her nose in his soft collar.
* * *
The feast lasted well into the night. When a car arrived to pick up the guests, the Black Druid went out to see them off. Both the prince and the king were so drunk they fell asleep at the table. Prince Arthur and the queen were accommodated in the castle’s finest rooms.
That night, Anela couldn’t sleep. Dressing herself and leaving her hair loose, she slipped out into the garden. The oppressive heat of the day was gone, and the air carried a refreshing scent.
As she walked toward the gazebo, Anela heard a voice up ahead. She recognized its owner immediately but didn’t feel like turning back.
Maybe the Druid was right, and Arthur wasn’t such a bad match after all? As she approached, Arthur stopped mid-sentence, his mouth hanging open as he stared at her. Anela sat down across from him, her face betraying no emotion.
“Can’t sleep?”
The prince nodded. Anela didn’t know what to ask, so she went with the first thing that came to mind.
“Tell me about your kingdom!” she requested.
The prince smiled and lifted his chin.
“Fargans is one of the wealthiest kingdoms in Aladea…” Arthur went on like that for ten minutes. Despite how incredibly boring his story was, Anela showed interest.
“What’s your favorite game?” the girl asked.
“Game?” Arthur looked surprised. “No way! Games are for girls! I prefer studying science!”
“Snob,” Anela muttered under her breath, turning her head away. “What about horses? Don’t you like riding them either?”
“Why not? We don’t call that a game, though—it’s horseback riding! It’s a very serious activity!” Arthur pointed out.
Anela grimaced. Arthur’s gaze had turned unbearably smug. Maybe the Druid was wrong, and her first impression had been right. Abruptly standing, the girl hurried to leave the gazebo.
“Where are you going? We just started talking!” Arthur called after her.
Anela turned back, her black hair shaking as her blue eyes pierced the boy. All the frustration that had built up over weeks spilled out in an instant.
“This engagement is just a formality. There won’t be a wedding! I hope you can convince your parents of that!”
“But what did I do?” the boy asked, genuinely confused.
“You exist! And you’re incredibly boring! So go find yourself a royal bride somewhere else!” With a sharp turn, the girl stormed out of the garden, leaving the stunned boy behind in the gazebo.
“What an idiot!” the prince hissed through gritted teeth. His chance to impress his young fiancée had completely flopped.
So many rehearsals, all for nothing… Arthur had spent the entire evening planning their conversation, and when the opportunity finally came, he blew it. He wanted to tell her that he, not his parents, had been the one to suggest the engagement.
The next morning, the royal family of Fargans departed for their kingdom. Anela didn’t come out to say goodbye, pretending to be asleep.
* * *