Chapter Four Princess Darcy: The Noor Complex

Hector's funeral was scheduled to take place in four days time. Princess Loreena was expected to be in attendance. Her grandmother had instructed her to give a speech and then stand by the casket so that the public could offer her their condolences.

            By that time, however, the Princess would be outside the kingdom, and deep within the Varclave forest. She felt some guilt at missing the remembrance of Hector's life, but she knew that he would rather she save the unicorns. That would be her way of commemorating his life's work.

            She had hoped, perhaps naively, that her grandmother would support her in her mission, and that she wouldn't have to execute her covert plan. The afternoon after they'd returned Hector's body to his mother, she'd stood before her grandmother in the throne room, and pleaded her case.

            "Your betrothed has been slain. You should be grieving, Loreena." Queen Bellamine had chastised her. She stood from her throne and began to pace back and forth a few feet in each direction, as she often did when she was irate.

            "What is it about this family...It's as though we have some...some hero complex. We feel the need to be saviors. I was determined to salvage Alcwyn, your father decided it was his destiny to kill the Tyrant King and free the Cwenburhans, and now you're seeking to go on a suicidal rescue mission of savage beasts!" She ranted.

            "I would never permit you to go anywhere near those traders, Loreena. Especially after what they've done to Hector. And I won't allow you to gamble with my kingdom, either. This place, and its people, depend upon me. They trust me. You'd have me sell them for some savage beasts? Where are your priorities, Loreena? Where are your loyalties? These are to be your people someday. How can you even suggest that I do such a thing?"

            "You wouldn't actually be selling them." The Princess clarified. "And the beasts aren't savage; they're sentient beings."

            "Loreena, the Alcwynians expect you to be present at Hector's burial, and so do I. You're a future queen, it's time you begin to act like it."

            "Grandmother, I was with Hector in his final moments; as he breathed his last breaths; and his request was that I save the unicorns." Princess Loreena informed her. "Would you have me deny him that? His life was devoted to the study and conservation of the magical creatures. Grandmother, please."

            "No, Loreena. My answer is no." The Queen said firmly.

            "If grandfather were alive he would support me." Princess Loreena cried out angrily. She had never hated her grandmother until that very moment. "I wish he were alive instead of you!"

            The words flew out of her mouth before she had time to think them through. Her hands shot up to cover her mouth, but it was too late to take them back.

            The look on her grandmother's face was stricken, as though her granddaughter had struck her. No, not struck her...stabbed her straight through the heart. Her face crumpled, her harsh demeanor vanished. The stern, demanding-respect mask that she wore dissolved, and she wasn't a queen, then, but a grandmother who'd been betrayed.

            Princess Loreena turned away. She couldn't bear to look at her grandmother; at the deep seeded pain that resided in her face.

            With tears in her own eyes, but her mind firmly set, she dashed out of the throne room. She ran past countless servants and knocked into one who carried a tray with the Queen's dinner. It caused him to drop the platter and it spilled all over his clothing and onto the marble floor. The man cursed loudly as he fell down onto his knees. He scrambled to clean up the mess.

            The Princess mumbled an apology, and though she would normally offer to help him, this time she kept moving. She threw open the doors leading to her bedchamber, and slammed them shut behind her so hard it caused her vanity mirror to shake. She collapsed onto her bed. Dragon Tales waited for her there, sitting innocently atop the covers.

            The Princess grabbed the book and threw it across the room. It bounced off the window and landed on the pillows of her window's seat. Displeased, she stood, stumbled over, and picked the book up. A servant had started a warming fire in her room, and she carelessly tossed the book into the flames. It was an action she immediately regretted as she watched the pages blacken and curl. Her stomach clenched and she fell to the floor, and gasped for breath. The weight of everything she'd done crashed down on her, and it was overwhelming. She couldn't hold it in. She screamed until her voice left her. No one came to her aide. When her throat was raw, she laid down before the fire and curled up there. She closed her eyes, and welcomed the relief that the blackness brought her.

...

            The Queen knocked hesitantly on her eldest grandchild's door. When she received no answer, she twisted the knob and found it unlocked. She pushed the door slowly open.

            Her granddaughter lay curled on her side a few feet from the dying embers of a fire. Tendrils of smoke rose from it, and the Queen could see the charred remnants of a book.

            She approached her granddaughter's prone form, tiptoeing quietly. She knelt down next to her and brushed a strand of her long dark hair back from her face. Princess Loreena's breathing was deep and even with sleep. Her face was serene and she looked so peaceful and innocent it was easy for the Queen to forget her earlier, wounding words.

            She reached her hands under her granddaughter and lifted her carefully up into her arms. Princess Loreena's limbs swung limply, and her head lolled, coming to rest against her grandmother's chest. She didn't stir with the movement.

            Queen Bellamine laid her granddaughter gently down on her bed. She pulled her blanket up over her and smoothed it. She freed the Princess's arms from beneath it and placed them at her sides. She knew her granddaughter hated being cocooned. She would awake in a panic, and in her struggle to free herself would become even more entangled.

            She stroked her granddaughter's face and bent over to kiss her forehead, grateful that the Princess was such a deep sleeper, and mortified at the thought of what would occur should she return to consciousness and find her grandmother; the very one she'd wished dead; hovering over her.

            Queen Bellamine straightened and walked back over to the fire. She doused what remained of the flames and then left, shutting the door softly behind her. She sighed as headed back down the hall to return to her own empty bed chambers.