“You want us to host a ball in one month? Wulfram, that’s hardly any time at all!” Queen Mirabel frowned at her son over the light midday lunch the family was enjoying. It was a lovely day, so they had decided to spend it out in one of the gardens, when the twins could play. Even now the two girls were sitting on their blanket, playing with their dolls and tea set like polite little ladies. Thank the gods they hadn’t decided to start climbing trees like their brother had at their age.
“And isn’t it a bit risky, drawing attention to this girl? If the court gets wind that you’ve gotten yourself married to a commoner there will be an uproar.” King Cynewulf said.
Wulfram had to concede the point, nobles simply didn’t like common blood mixing with noble blood. It was all a bit snobby as far as Wulfram was concerned, but the nobles could be a problem. He could think of a few in particular that would do their best to make Dani’s life hell.
No, Daniella. The corner of his mouth quirked up. She had looked so flustered when Mrs. Haversaun had said her full name. “It is a bit of a risk, but by this point word that I was saved by a commoner is becoming known throughout the court and city. They expect some kind of gesture of appreciation, and a ball is one such gesture. It has historic precedence, remember the ball held in honor of Sir Silvian? When he saved your life during the war? Not to mention if we hold it in one month that gives me time to travel to the border and meet with King Alastar and his group, as well as do some searching for their missing princess before returning to the capital. We’ll use it as a diplomatic ball to honor both my savior and the Cresenvasht royalty.”
“King Alastar might not like sharing the spotlight with a commoner.” King Cynewulf cautioned. He took a sip of his lemonade, nodding in approval of the sweet and tart taste. The ice cubes clinked against each other as he lowered his glass, regarding his son over it. “And I can’t say I would blame him.”
“It’s all in how we present it Father. We invite him to a ball in honor of one of our heroes, not just one of our heroes though, but a woman hero.”
“You’re stretching dear.” Queen Mirabel let out a sigh, her smile a bit resigned. “This ball really means that much to you?”
Wulfram cleared his throat and straightened in his seat. “I merely thought it was a good idea, and that if anyone could pull it off, it would be you.”
“I’ll make it happen. At this point there’s not much of a choice anyways, Lady Rebecca is a dear, but she’ll have told half the city by now.” Queen Mirabel said.
King Cynewulf looked at Wulfram thoughtfully, tapping one finger on the table. Wulfram tried not to fidget, it would show weakness, and he was not a weak man. Instead he leaned over and gave his mother a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you Mother, I know it will be amazing.”
“Yes, yes.” Mirabel sighed. She patted Wulfram on the shoulder gently. “You’ll need to be fitted for a proper costume before you go, I’ll send the tailors to your quarters tonight. Shall I send the royal dressmakers to the girl?”
“I don’t think that will be necessary, she’s apprenticing at Mrs. Haversaun’s, and I believe can handle her costume quite artfully.” Wulfram really had no idea what kind of work Mrs. Haversaun did, but the dresses in the windows of her shop had looked nice enough.
His mother gave him a look of disapproval, her mouth creasing in the faintest of frowns. “I see. I’ll look into this Mrs. Haversaun, if nothing else perhaps we can send her some fabrics to use.”
“I trust your judgement in this Mother.” Wulfram smiled and bowed slightly. With his Mother helping, Daniella was certain to look absolutely stunning.
“Son, take a walk with me.” King Cynewulf stood, pausing only a moment to kiss Mirabel on the cheek before starting down the path. He didn’t bother waiting for Wulfram, he knew that his son would follow.
Wulfram smiled apologetically to his mother and shrugged. “We’ll be back shortly Mother.” He bent to kiss her cheek as well, before hurrying after his father.
Together, Wulfram and Cynewulf rounded a bend in the path, carefully arranged bushes and trees granting them some semblance of privacy from the rest of the family. But they walked in silence for a few more feet, King Cynewulf apparently content to gaze at the sun-dappled path.
Eventually, Cynewulf paused, his old eyes resting on a Moon Vine that twisted around one of the larger trees, it’s buds at this time of day. Wulfram stood beside him, taking his time studying one of the silver orbs that would bloom into a gently glowing flower under the light of the moon. He knew his fathers habits, and wasn’t about to give in to the urge to fill the silence. His father wouldn’t have called him aside if he didn’t have something to say.
The silence stretched on, and Wulfram started to count the leaves around his chosen orb, noting the slight tinge of silver around the edge of the dark green leaves. A sign it would be a good harvest this year.
“She’s quite lovely, if a bit on the thin side.” Cynewulf finally said, his eyes still on the vine.
“Who is, Father?” Wulfram kept his voice neutral, glancing over at him. Cynewulf hadn’t taken his gaze off the vine, although a faint smile played on his lips.
“Your young lady.”
Wulfram frowned, trying to remember if his father had ever seen Dani. Unless he had been following him... but no, the king wouldn’t have been able to just follow him through the city. Not without guards. He supposed one of his fathers spies could have described her to him. But it seemed a stretch.
“You’ve seen her? When?” Might as well ask now and clear up the mystery. Otherwise they would be dancing around it for hours. Wulfram had too much to do still to go through that.
Cynewulf turned to meet his sons eyes, the crows feet around his own crinkling in humor. “She got quite close when she stole your crown.”
Wulfram froze for a moment, his heart rate spiking. But no, there was no way that he could know Dani was the thief. He hadn’t seen her since then, and Wulfram had said the thief had died. Cynewulf shook his head and raised a hand to forestall any protest.
“Don’t panic. I’m not going to throw her in the dungeon. But I also don’t think you should be married to her. Especially if King Alastar and you happen to find this missing princess. But I do want to know, should I be worried about being a Grandfather?”
Wulfram nearly choked at the question, his eyes widening. “No! I haven’t- we haven’t done anything. And Archmage Balariz is working on a way to undo the magic of the crown. You have nothing to worry about Father, trust me.”
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Cynewulf looked at Wulfram thoughtfully for a long moment, but eventually nodded. “Very well, I trust you. I should add that there’s no harm in a little fun, as long as precautions are taken.”
“Father!” Wulfram’s mouth dropped open.
Cynewulf chuckled, and started to walk again. “Go on and say goodbye to your Mother and sisters, I know you have a meeting soon with Archmage Balariz, and don’t forget the one after with the group you’re taking to meet King Alastar. You should plan to leave within the next couple of days.”
“We plan to leave the day after tomorrow.” Wulfram wanted to have time to start mapping the tunnels, but it didn’t seem like he was going to get that chance any time soon. He sighed as his father rounded another bend in the meandering path, his only acknowledgement that he heard a slight nod of his head.
Well, there was no reason to dawdle. He was going to get nothing more out of his Father right now, and he wanted to see if Balariz had made any progress. Wulfram turned back down the path, smiling as he rounded the curve and saw his Mother sitting on the blanket with his sisters, enjoying a cup of imaginary tea. Mirabel looked up as he rounded the corner. “Wulfram, I suspect your Father decided to take a walk?”
“He did Mother, and I’m afraid I have to go to a meeting. Will you three be alright?” He took the tiny cup offered by one of his sisters, he couldn’t quite tell which one was which, and pretended to take a sip. “Yum, thank you Princess.”
Perhaps it would be better to dress them in different colors at least. Wait, she was holding the brown haired doll, so that was Melody. That meant the one offering him a cookie had to be Cynthia. “Thank you Princess Cynthia.” He took the cookie, feeling proud of himself.
Until two sets of eyes glared at him as if he had made some horrible faux pas. The one who had offered the tea jutted out her lower lip in a pout. “I’m Cynthia! I gave you the tea!”
“And I’m Melody!” The other one stomped her foot, earning her a stern look from Mirabel.
“Young ladies do not stomp their feet, Melody. Your big brother didn’t mean anything by it, he just made a mistake. Isn’t that right, Wulfram?” Mirabel looked up at him expectantly.
“Of course, my mistake entirely. Please forgive me ladies.” Wulfram bowed deeply, and in the most formal way he knew how. He even added the little hand flourish, using the hand that held the cookie. He held the pose until one of his sisters let out a giggle, quickly followed by the other.
He straightened with a smile. “Now, I’m afraid I must leave you ladies to your tea. My heart shall ache with your absence, but I must go!” His dramatic declaration only made his sisters giggle harder, and even his mother smiled.
“Oh go on son, we’ll see you at dinner.”
“Of course Mother, I’ll see you at dinner.” Wulfram put the cookie in his mouth and strode off towards the palace. If he didn’t hurry he’d be late, and it was rude to upset others schedules like that, even as a Prince! Perhaps especially as the Prince. After all, he had an example to set.
And so he arrived at Archmage Balariz’s door exactly on time, if a little dizzy from climbing the circular stairs up to his tower. Some people wondered why mages were often put in towers. Wulfram was not one of them. If one of the mages experiments went awry he wanted to be as far away from the explosion as possible.
The door opened just as Wulfram was raising his hand to knock, an owlish young woman standing there, gazing up at him through glasses that oddly distorted her face. “Oh! It’s you! Prince Wulfram!” She pulled off her glasses, blinking rapidly. “Archmage Balariz is just inside, please, please come in.”
The young woman stepped aside, bowing a bit awkwardly but deep enough to be polite. “I’m May, the Archmage’s apprentice. I don’t know if your Highness remembers me, we met at a dinner. A couple months ago? At the dinner a couple months ago to celebrate the Spring Solstice.”
Wulfram thought back to the Spring Solstice dinner, flicking through the different faces and names he had learned. It only took him a few moments to remember the awkward young mage, and how she had lit the punch on fire. “I remember you quite well Mage May, It is a pleasure to see you again.”
He stepped inside the Archmages study, a large circular room with a domed ceiling painted dark blue and marked with important constellations in sparkling gold. Each star was a faceted glowstone, lit to fill the room with a light that banished any shadow. The walls were covered in charts, bookcases and writing, with more books in piles on desks and tables. May hurried to a table in the center of the room, where Archmage Balariz sat stooped over a pair of books. As Wulfram approached he could see one was full of elegant handwriting and painstakingly precise drawings, the other was full of hasty notes and rough sketches.
A sparkle in the middle of the table caught his eye, and he leaned forward slightly to study the odd items that the Archmage had gathered. There were only two of them: a tarnished bracelet much like his own, and a necklace that he recognized from the family treasury. “Hello Archmage, I see you’ve been busy. Does this mean there’s been progress?”
“Your Highness, welcome!” Archmage Balariz looked up from his notes, grinning. “Progress of a sort, yes. I have been able to gather a couple of items of interest. The necklace is of course on loan from the royal treasury, you may be familiar with it. But the archives also had this bracelet, which is quite similar to the one you’re wearing. I believe both of these items were part of matching sets, but the other half of their pair has been lost over the centuries.”
“Interesting. And these items will help you determine how to undo the spell that binds me to the wearer of the other bracelet?” Wulfram looked at the Archmage, raising an eyebrow.
The Archmage shifted uncomfortably as he stood and finally bowed. “Perhaps. There are fragments of magic still remaining on both artifacts. But I believe the most information on the spell will be gained by examining both your bracelet and the young ladies.”
“Well the young lady in question isn’t available right now, shall we start with examining mine?” Wulfram rolled up his sleeve, revealing the bracelet with its blue stone. He had a vague sense of Dani still, even this far. But it wasn’t as clear as when he was right near her: only a sense that she was there and that she was alright.
“Of course your Highness! Of course. May, I’ll have you run the tests. She’s quite competent your Highness, and I need to have my hands free to take notes.” Archmage Balariz picked up the book with the scrawled notes in it, flipping to an empty page as May pulled out a flat, circular crystal. The stone was so flawless that Wulfram could see through it as if it wasn’t even there.
“Yes Archmage, right away.” She said, and slid her fingers along the edge of the crystal. Ruins lit up where her finger passed over, each one taking on the green glow of her magic. “If you would just hold your wrist under the crystal, your Highness?”
Curious, Wulfram extended his hand beneath the crystal, watching carefully just in case the crystal happened to miraculously become flammable. The glow outlined the bracelet with a gentle glow, and projected a visible image of the bracelets magic above the crystal. It was a complex diagram of intricate and overlapping sigils and lines, looping and twisting together in a three-dimensional infinity knot. Some strands of magic were as thin as a strand of hair, while others were thick as ribbons, or braided together to create a rope. One strand of braided magic in shades of amber, gold and blue stretched off into the distance, disappearing as soon as it left the magic of May’s crystal.
He knew, without a doubt, that that braided strand led to his little mouse.
No, not his little mouse, Dani. Daniella. And she wasn’t his.
Although she could be.
Wulfram took in a breath, letting it out slowly as he studied the diagram, able to make neither heads nor tails of it. May and the Archmage stared up at the diagram, the Archmage taking rapid notes and copying the diagram into his book.
“This is a fine work of magic, very complex and delicate.” The Archmage mumbled as he studied the floating diagram. “A master of the arts must have created this spell.”
“Can you break it?” Wulfram asked.
“At the moment? Not without destroying the ancestral crown and possibly hurting you and the young lady, maybe even killing you. After some study?” The Archmage paused, and let out a sigh. “I am not sure. Seeing how the magic reacts when they are closer together may provide more clues. But this is a spell designed to last for a lifetime. People don’t make those spells with a handy way to turn them off.”
Wulfram frowned, for a moment not sure if he should be relieved or irritated. He nodded curtly and looked down at the bracelet. “I will bring her in tomorrow so that you can study the bracelets when they are close together. Hopefully that will help. I will be leaving in two days for a journey, you will have one month to find a way to break this spell. Understood?”
“Yes your Highness.” The Archmage said, and bowed deeply. “I will do my best.”