Castle Albreton was enormous. Jasmine had seen castles in Germany when she’d gone to England but none seemed to hold up to the sheer scale that this one did. It looked like a bird from above, Prince Albert informed her, while the kingdom itself was shaped like an egg. A wizard long ago, before the days of Fragmaroginog, had instigated the design. That ancient wizard had claimed the castle was a spell in itself, and would always regrow from the inside if it were conquered. The citizens of Albreton lived by this belief and never faltered in the face of foreign animosity.

At least, they did before the dragon came. Jasmine looked around as she and the prince had entered the kingdom and all she saw in the people’s faces was regret and pain. There was something seriously wrong here.

“Lady Jasmine,” Prince Albert interrupted her thoughts, “Welcome to Castle Albreton.” He spread his arms wide in presentation. Then he winced and dropped them.

“Careful there mister prince,” Jasmine teased. It earned her a scowl. Before that moment she didn’t think Prince Albert was capable of a scowl. “Hey just saying,” She hurriedly continued, “Might want to get that looked at. You do have doctors here right?”

“We do indeed,” A male croaking voice came from in front of them, “Too bad they’re all incompetent fools.” Jasmine looked for who was talking but there was no one there.

Swift bowed, one front hoof curled up, and pointed his ears forward. Prince Albert lowered his eyes and only then did Jasmine notice a toad in their path. The moat rippled. It ran all around the wings of the castle and its water was the darkest Jasmine had ever seen. It must have been very deep. It wasn’t the depth that Jasmine noticed, though, it was the lily pads. All in a line leading to the castle gates, lily pads floated on the surface of the moat, bobbing in the waves.

The toad croaked, “Prince Albert has returned with a lady friend. I assume you’re his new mistress, what was your name?”

Jasmine nearly fell over. “Did you hear that? That toad just talked!” Never mind that she’d just been insulted.

Before the prince could explain, the toad hopped from its lily pad onto the dusty bank and said, “I am no toad! Be respectful you ingrate. I am Sir Fragmaroginog and it would be nice if just once people would address me properly. Honestly prince, where do you find these people? The pub in Folderton?”

“You know as well as I that a prince never drinks,” Prince Albert said, seemingly as an introduction.

“He may say that,” said Fragmaroginog, blinking slowly, “but I have seen him drunk and stupid and he is an embarrassment in that state. Now why are you here exactly?”

There was a talking toad. And it was talking to Jasmine. And she couldn’t find it in her to say anything.

“Sir Fragmaroginog I bring excellent news!” Prince Albert straightened and hid a wince at his shoulder, “This is my love, my Princess Salina, and I have brought her back safely to our kingdom!”

“So you’re the little tart?” Fragmaroginog hopped to Jasmine’s feet, “Shorter than I expected. And not as fit.”

Jasmine found her voice, “Say what?”

“Oh well,” continued Fragmaroginog as though he hadn’t noticed Jasmine’s response at all, “Come on then.” Then Fragmaroginog spoke a magic word. Jasmine recognized it; it was something the birds had sung when the color returned to the forest after their encounter with that strange white cat.

As the lily pads grew and expanded and floated closer together, the prince whispered something in Jasmine’s ear, “Sorry about that. Fragmaroginog has always been a tad, well a tad rude.”

Jasmine tore her eyes from the swimming, growing lily pads, “I’ll say! He better get some manners if he expects me to stick around.” Swift neighed in agreement.

“I’m sure he’ll warm up,” Prince Albert said, more hopeful than confident. Swift chose then to rear up in farewell and dash off into the distance. As the stallion’s hoof beats grew distant, the prince took Jasmine’s hand. They crossed the moat gingerly and unbalanced and the lily pads spread apart and shrunk as they passed over them. Fragmaroginog welcomed them into the castle and hopped away. A minute later Jasmine heard a tiny splash from behind them.

As if the outside of the castle wasn’t impressive enough, the inside was decorated gloriously in gold and blue and white. Emblems of the kingdom hung proudly on the gold-plated stone walls, royal blue ornate designs with pale white egg shapes surrounding carefully sewn depictions of the phoenix. Each one had a different image of the phoenix, one was aflame with its wings spread wide, another curled and tired, yet another showed the flaming gold bird cracking out of the egg, and each so magnificent they could all be considered masterpieces. Statues of the phoenix that was emerging from its egg stood tall and impressive beside the entrance to the hall, their eyes painted blue and their podiums white. The floor was painted royal blue and cloudy white like the sky and a giant handmade golden rug stretched into each wing. There was no furniture other than a single wooden chair in the corner, and soon a maid of some sort removed it, apologizing for her tardiness and lack of discipline.

Jasmine was intimidated; she hadn’t been around anything so ritzy in her entire life nor had she ever been around anything so tacky. She found herself frequently thinking the decoration was a bit over-the-top, even for a king.

“This way,” said the prince. Jasmine followed.

They passed too many rooms to count and Jasmine couldn’t tell if any of them had a real purpose other than to look regal. The same blue, gold and white color scheme strewn through the castle; phoenix artwork burned on the walls. After far too much walking, Prince Albert turned a corner into an entirely white-furnished room. There were candles lit even though it was daylight and windows spanned the entire back wall to let in the light from the setting sun. The prince sat down with a groan on one of the many beds lined up along the inside walls. Their headboards were golden-tipped. He removed his fedora.

Jasmine lost herself in the sunlight. Seeing the view here, she wondered how she could’ve possibly thought the forest was anywhere close to beautiful. In the far, far distance icy mountains stood vast and tall and proud. They did not melt when the sun fell behind them, though they appeared to be aflame, reflecting and refracting the orange and deep yellow like a dance in the skies. Before them lay flatlands the color of albino grass that glowed pink in the fractured light baring down behind the icy mountains and before the flatlands lie the moat, glistening a deep blackened silver. The lily pads wafted to and fro in the gentle waves and Jasmine wondered how deep it actually was, if she could wade through if she wanted to. She closed her eyes and realized just how tired she was, nearly falling asleep on her feet with the warm setting sun and the smell of evening tickling her nostrils.

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

Prince Albert interrupted her with a small cough.

“Hm?” Jasmine responded and turned to see the prince. He looked pale and worn and his yellow-blonde hair was a sweaty mess. A woman was standing next to the bed he was occupying. She appeared to be a nurse or a servant, her dress was simple and blue and white like the rest of the castle’s decorations. She wore a gold-trimmed folded hat of a design Jasmine didn’t think could possibly stay atop someone’s head without one of those strings that loop under the chin. The woman bowed politely.

“She will treat any injuries we have,” Prince Albert said, “Her name is Mythos. She is mute but kind. She’s served our family for ages. She only looks so young because she was blessed by our ancestors for youth and longevity.”

“Oh,” Jasmine managed.

“Please sit,” the prince said in a sigh, a pleading exhausted sigh. Jasmine sat and watched as Mythos removed Prince Albert’s tunic by cutting carefully around the wound in his shoulder. She folded it neatly and lay it aside. The prince winced as foul smelling ooze was pressed into his shoulder blade and then once more into his collarbone. Mythos smiled sweetly and bandaged him, and then in an oddly tender movement patted Prince Albert on the head like a mother does a child. Jasmine snickered at that and the prince turned away to hide his shameful blush. Mythos bowed in farewell and collected the prince’s bloody, torn tunic before she left.

“She seems nice,” Jasmine said.

“She’ll be back to aid you as well,” Prince Albert said, still refusing to look Jasmine in the eye. “I’m going to sleep,” he added at length in the smallest, tired voice.

“If you want, go right ahead.”

The prince sluggishly removed his boots and left them by his bedside then burrowed under the covers and dozed off. Jasmine thought it odd for a prince to look so childlike as he slept there, curled up like an eight-year-old who was convinced the monsters couldn’t eat him if he kept under the blankets. She giggled and sprawled on her back, arms out wide. The bed she was on was fluffy and comfortable and warm. The only thing that kept Jasmine from drifting off herself was Mythos’ return to the room.

The mute bowed politely and dragged a wheeled cart into the room. The wheels rattled like a miniature train as they were pulled over the stone floor. Jasmine propped up on her elbows to smile at Mythos.

“So you’re a nurse?” Jasmine asked, forgetting Mythos couldn’t speak.

Mythos nodded, her eyes were kind and seemed older than the rest of her. She motioned for Jasmine to sit up straight and Jasmine did, years of horseback riding evident as she immediately sat with perfect posture. Mythos proceeded to look her up and down, gently lifting up Jasmine’s arms to see the underside and then examining the back of her knees. Finally Mythos began to lift Jasmine’s shirt to see her belly, halfway in the middle she looked into Jasmine’s eyes as if asking permission to lift further. Jasmine nodded at her. The prince was asleep anyway, not like he’d see anything, and they were both women.

After she was certain there was nothing wrong with Jasmine, Mythos tugged Jasmine’s arm so she got out of bed. The mute nurse led Jasmine to a large bath and handed her a golden silk robe from a hidden closet behind the basin that must’ve served as the sink. It smelled like lavender and sage and mint, but most of all it smelled clean. Jasmine thanked Mythos as the mute bowed and closed the door behind her with a smile. Then Jasmine sank into the largest bath she’d ever been in and let her troubles soak away in the bubbling hot water.

The night at the castle was uneventful but nonetheless dazzling. Jasmine thought she would’ve been able to sleep after so much adventure but after she cleaned up and found her way through the winding corridors back to that white-furnished room, she sprawled out on the bed and for the life of her could not sleep. She could barely close her eyes she was so thrilled. She was in a fairytale and there was a prince sleeping in the next bed over. Jasmine snuck a glance.

In his sleep, Prince Albert had thrown his covers on the floor and stretched out on his stomach; he hugged his pillow instead of resting his head on it. Jasmine couldn’t help but find him adorable. He rolled over with a groan and she suddenly became aware that watching someone sleep was probably a creepy thing to do, especially when they were injured. So Jasmine settled to stare at the scenery outside.

The sun had fully set while she was in the bath and the icy mountains glimmered in the starlight, just translucent enough to make them appear invisible near the top. She watched the moat tumble over itself in the wind. The moonlight amplified its apparent depth and Jasmine once again found herself wondering how far down it went. Then again, she supposed it was there for protection and probably needed to be fairly deep to do its job.

Still, something was off about it. But that could wait until morning. Right now Jasmine’s mind had gone into overdrive and she needed to get some of that second-wind energy out of her system, so she hopped out of bed and resolved to walk around the castle until she got tired enough to sleep.

Unfortunately, she got herself lost. It was a large castle and there were way too many corridors to count, each seeming to lead to some sort of dead end or what Jasmine came to dread: more corridors. She might not have minded it except the décor made them all look the same. Stone walls painted white and blue carpet and the Phoenix statues lining the walls like gargoyles were all Jasmine saw down every hallway she entered. It was driving her nuts.

“How is anyone supposed to find their way around in this place?” Jasmine said aloud, figuring there probably wouldn’t be anyone awake at this hour to hear her.

To her gasping surprise, someone answered, “They’ve grown up here; lived here for most of their lives and so the maze has become second-nature to them, a way of life.”

“Maze?” Jasmine asked, twirling around to see who was speaking. Mythos stood behind her with a torch. The supposed mute lifted it to one of the sconces that jutted out from the stone wall, making the corridor a smidgen lighter.

Then she spoke. “I am mute to the others because they were born here. To you I may speak and to you alone.” Before Jasmine could stutter a response, Mythos continued, “This castle was built by a wizard, as I’m sure Prince Albert told you.”

Jasmine nodded. The dim lighting made Mythos look as old as she was, wrinkled and faded. It spooked Jasmine more than she would care to admit.

“Wizards are common in this land. They are at the helm of many things and the cause of many tragedies.” Mythos walked ahead; Jasmine followed, intrigued. “Because this is a stronghold, the wizard who built this castle built it so that any foreigner would become hopelessly lost if they entered without a guide. Even the royal family does not know how deep these dungeons delve. This castle was made to keep out enemy forces, back when our kingdom was formed. It is well-equipped for all kinds of assault.”

“But if that wizard made this place so impenetrable, then what about the dragon?” Jasmine asked before she could stop herself. Keeping up with Mythos was more tiring than Jasmine thought and she took a few quickened steps to catch up when the supposed mute took a sharp turn around the corner, nearly walking into a Phoenix statue that was placed directly around the bend.

“Ah, yes,” Mythos was continuing, “I’m sure Prince Albert has told you that we are not the only kingdom with capable wizards at our command. We suspect that whoever has been trying to invade us cast a spell on the dragon so it could break through the outer wall. I’m sure you remember seeing the damage as you entered from the forest.”

Jasmine couldn’t ever forget. The wall had reminded her of pictures of the Great Wall of China, vast and high and stretching far into the distance. When she and the prince had first arrived, he had told her it was made of a magic stone in order to keep ill-will out of the kingdom. Jasmine hadn’t believed him until she took a closer look at the wall; it had been seamless and warm to the touch. Then before Jasmine had a chance to ask about the gaping, crumbly hole, Swift had leapt over the rubble and landed inside the kingdom, turning back to face Jasmine with an expression she had never seen on a horse.

Mythos interrupted Jasmine’s thoughts by halting. Not three yards away was the soft candlelight from the white-furnished room Jasmine and the prince had been occupying. Jasmine whispered thanks to Mythos for showing her the way and this time when she lay down to sleep, it came abrupt and dreamless.