Apples and Princesses (The Tales and Princesses Series Book 2) Page 3

  I continued with my usual daily wanderings, and without thinking, I found myself back at the alleyway where the boy who stole my satchel disappeared. I recognized it because of the same abandoned storefront at its end. I realized that my subconscious must have held onto the slightest hope that maybe I’d find the boy and reclaim my satchel. The hunger pains and exhaustion were too much of a presence for my mind to remind me that such notions were ridiculous.

  I spent maybe five minutes examining the old storefront again before feeling too weak to continue. But before I moved to lie and rest on the hard ground, I heard the faint sound of a chuckle to my left. It seemed to be coming from inside the alley wall. I moved closer to inspect it, holding my breath to avoid smelling the mold. The gray stone was very old and crumbled slightly at the touch of my finger. The sound of laughter became even more distinct, and there was no doubt about it: the sound was definitely coming from behind that wall.

  I ran my hand along the entire wall, remembering the stories of secret passageways in various books I had read in the past. And then I found it! There was a single loose stone, and I pushed my weight against it until it slid past the others, making a clicking sound. I leapt back as half of the wall swung open, revealing a large room with many bookshelves along the walls and a hallway that must have the led to other rooms. Though the space looked poor and was falling apart, it was filled to the brim with a hodge-podge of different items. But that wasn’t the most surprising part: in the middle of the room was a long table with seven young boys sitting around it, each of them digging into bowls of gleaming chicken breasts. My mouth immediately watered at the intoxicating smell.

  They all froze and stared at me, jaws hanging open, as I stood in the entryway, watching them eat with longing. And then I recognized him. The little, brown-haired boy that stole my satchel.

  “It’s you!” I shouted.

  Then, without warning, the wall behind me began to slide back into place, and I jumped all the way through before I was caught in it. Placing my hands on my hips, I moved closer to the young boys, not feeling intimidated in the slightest. Even the oldest had to have been two or three years younger than my nineteen years.

  “That boy stole my things!” I pointed to the thief.

  The boy that had stolen the bag from me flushed as the other boys looked in his direction, but they didn’t seem disappointed. It almost seemed like they were proud.

  “Well?” I raised my voice, the anger I felt making me forget about my hunger.

  The boy at the head of the table, blond and incredibly freckled, rose from his seat and began to speak.

  “We steal to survive, miss.”

  That was a simple answer, but it didn’t satisfy me. I raised an eyebrow and flipped the dark curls out of my face.

  “I still want it back!” I snapped.

  The boys looked me up and down, then leapt from their chairs and huddled together in the corner of the room. I knit my brows together as I saw one little head after another pop up from the huddle to give me a curious glance, then continue with the whispering.

  The boys became silent all of a sudden and moved back to their seats.

  “Well?” I said.

  The freckled boy who spoke to me earlier rose again. “We have decided. You can have all of your stuff back, but…” He paused, grinning at the other boys. “You must earn your keep first.”

  I chuckled. “You are all just little boys. What’s to stop me from searching for my things and leaving?”

  Each of the boys pulled out various weapons from their belts, including the two littlest ones who couldn’t have been more than five and also seemed to be twins. Considering that I had no idea how to use Father’s dagger, and the boys seemed more than familiar with their own weapons, I sighed.

  “What do you need me to do?”

  The boy smiled with his crooked teeth. “First are introductions! I’m Arnold, and these are my six younger brothers.” He pointed to each boy in turn, all of them giving me a little smile or mischievous wink. “Ben, Larry, Jacob, Marv, and the twins are Patrick and Phil.”

  All seven boys were definitely similar enough to be brothers, especially since they were each unusually short for their ages. But there were also stark differences. Arnold wasn’t the only blond, but his hair was more golden than anyone else’s. The one called Ben was plump and ruddy, Larry (the one who stole my satchel) was incredibly scrawny, Jacob’s blue eyes seemed huge underneath the lenses of his spectacles, Marv was rather fit for his age— he couldn’t have been more than ten, and the twins were identical with their orange hair and pale skin.

  I folded my arms, wanting to get this over with. “I’m Snow.”

  “Hi, Snow!” they all said simultaneously. It was kind of creepy.

  “That’s a weird name,” one of the twins whispered.

  Then I realized something I hadn’t before. “Where are your parents?”

  “Oh, them?” Arnold brushed it aside. “They died a while ago. We’ve been taking care of ourselves for a long time.”

  I remembered that I was also parentless, but I pushed that thought aside. “Can we get along with this?”

  Arnold’s smile disappeared, and he cleared his throat. “Fine. Snow, we have rules around here. And one of them is that you have to work to eat.” He eyed me up and down. “You seem rather worse for wear, and we’re willing to allow you to live here if you do the work we require of you.”

  My shoulders fell as I was reminded of my hunger and that he was right— I was desperate and needed a place to stay. My attitude changed completely, and I raised my gaze to the lead boy again.

  “Fine,” I said, defeated. “I’ll do whatever you want me to. Just please…” I eyed the chicken on the table and was unable to suppress the urge to lick my lips. “I’m so hungry.”

  The seven pairs of eyes watching as I snarfed the chicken down didn’t bother me one bit. In that moment, it felt like I had never tasted such incredible food in my entire life. The boys were obviously poor, and there wasn’t much of it, but I was beyond grateful for even the few bites of juicy meat they were able to give me.

  Arnold drummed his fingers on the table, grasping at the knife in his other hand. “Where are you from exactly, Snow?” he said, finally breaking the silence.

  I thought for a moment. “Far away.”

  It wasn’t entirely a lie. White Manor was on the south end of Edristan, and I knew that Nick and I traveled for a good few days before even getting to Bothar.

  The boys stood up and huddled in the corner again, whispering about me. It was getting old. They then moved back to their seats but didn’t put away their weapons.

  “We’ve decided to trust you,” Arnold continued. “For now.”

  I nodded but was so enamored with my meal that I didn’t really care if they had decided to trust me or not.

  “And that means we’ll start your training first thing tomorrow.”

  Those words got my attention. “Training?”

  All the boys grinned, suddenly looking like the brothers they were.

  “We’re going to make you a thief, Snow,” Arnold said.

  Chapter 7

  “You look gorgeous.”

  Dalia stood before the massive mahogany door of the throne room, awaiting her cue to enter. She was shaking uncontrollably, and her stomach kept doing flips.

  “Dalia?”

  Dalia shook her head and glanced at Aeryn. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

  Aeryn knit her brows together in concern. “I said you look beautiful.”

  The Princess glanced down at herself, not really having noticed what she was dressed in that morning. Her bodice was tied even tighter than usual, and she thought they were too tight in the past. She obviously didn’t know how uncomfortable a dress really could be until that moment. Her smooth skirts were embroidered with a beautiful, golden thread that spun into delicate flowers all over the emerald green silk. Her fiery hair was partially braided, but the rest poured
over her shoulders in loose curls. However, Dalia was too nervous about caring how pretty she looked.

  “Thank you, Aeryn.”

  Harold, one of the newest recruits to the castle guard, poked his round head through the door.

  “They’re ready for you, Your Highness.”

  Dalia took a deep breath and tried to wipe the sweat off her palms.

  “You’ll do great,” Aeryn whispered, then moved to pick up the Princess’s long train.

  Upon entering the room, the hundreds of nobles and subjects fell silent. The throne room spanned almost a third of their large castle, so it would be a long walk for Dalia down the aisle. The walls were adorned with long tapestries displaying the robust and leafless tree, emblem of Edristan, decorated with the blue and white colors of the kingdom. The sun from outside poured in light through the massive glass windows that extended along every wall. And all eyes were on her.

  She gulped. If she could get through the entire coronation ceremony without throwing up or blacking out, it would be a relief.

  She climbed the marble steps that led to the two thrones, the deep wood of the seats inlaid with lines of gold and cushioned with red fabric. Her parents’ seats. She squinted her eyes shut, trying not to cry, then continued onward.

  The priest dressed in his long, white robes was an old man, hunched over to the point that he barely stood taller than Dalia as she knelt in front of him. She darted her eyes about the room, seeing the solemn faces of her people. She knew they were sad for their King and Queen’s deaths and were nervous for her to take the throne so unprepared, but somehow that thought gave her the courage to sit up straighter in her position. She was going to be their Queen, and she was determined to take care of Edristan just as well as her parents had.

  “Lords and Ladies, Counts and Countesses, people of Edristan,” the priest projected to the audience, “we gather for the crowning of our dear Princess Dalia in lieu of King Rory’s and Queen Margaret’s untimely deaths…”

  Dalia humbly bowed her head as she listened to the words. The priest moved to anoint her with the blessing of the religion from ancient times— when all the land was ruled by just one High King. Dalia admitted to herself that she knew nothing of religion, but the priests in hers and many other kingdoms still worshipped the ancient Kings and their ways before civil war broke out, and the Kingdom was divided into five: Greriveth, Mardasia, Polart, Edristan, and Wilaldan. There was peace now, but unity into one kingdom was not likely to happen again.

  “With this anointing, I crown you...” He reached down to a table next to him and lifted the large crown, a light blue fabric surrounded by a frame of silver and jewels, and held it above the Princess’s head. “Queen Dalia Char of Edristan.”

  Dalia held her breath as she felt the crown touch her head. The priest then gestured for her to sit on the throne to the audience's right. She gingerly rose from her knees and stepped over, careful not to trip on her skirts. As she sat, the priest led her in the oaths, and she spoke the words of promise to rule with justice, mercy, and compassion. At the end of her words, the priest led the crowd in the Kingdom’s customary chant.

  “Long live Queen Dalia!” he cried with a voice much stronger than his fragile body let on.

  The crowd shouted the words back three times.

  There were no cheers, just a respectful silence as they moved from their seats to bow to their Queen. Dalia lifted her chin in acknowledgment to her subjects, refusing to tremble. She survived the ceremony, and she was Queen. The ceremony hadn’t been too bad. No one booed her, she didn’t get sick... She suddenly felt her heart drop to her stomach as she remembered what her next step was supposed to be: she had to get married.

  Chapter 8

  “No, Snow! That was terrible!”

  I held the coin in my hands that I had grabbed from Ben’s back pocket and shot Arnold an annoyed look.

  “What did I do wrong?”

  “He would have felt everything you just did! You practically told him what you were going to do with your body language. Again!”

  I sighed.

  For the next few weeks, the seven boys were slaving away in preparing me to be a model thief, pickpocketer, liar, you name it. Some things I was good at. I actually handled my father’s dagger very well under the five-year-old twins’ lessons, when they weren’t harassing me relentlessly with their various pranks. And I proved decent at the lying, but for some reason, my stealing wasn’t good enough yet.

  Rolling my shoulders back, I once again adopted the persona I was using to “steal” from the particular target Ben played.

  “Hello, sir,” I said while swiveling my hips in the way they taught me. It felt strange.

  Ben turned his chubby body to face me, taking on a character of his own. “Ah, hello.”

  For a thirteen-year-old boy, Ben was very good at acting like a pompous, old Lord. He was the best actor out of the seven boys.

  Ben gave me a sweeping bow and kissed my outstretched hand. I had to bend myself closer to the floor to avoid making Ben stand on the tips of his toes. I batted some eyelashes at him, and he giggled, the little boy coming out again.

  I yanked my hand away from his grip, exasperated. “This is so weird! Can we go back to where I just pretend to be his friend, then rob him silly?” I turned my attention to the much younger Ben. “It’s strange to flirt with him.”

  Arnold groaned and rubbed his face with his hands. “Let’s take a break. Ben, maybe start some lunch with the others. I’m gonna talk to Snow.”

  I watched as Ben’s blond head walked away from me, shaking in disapproval.

  “C’mon, Snow. Let’s go for a walk.”

  I followed Arnold through the little corridor on our right, trying to navigate through the mess of dirty socks and rotten food strewn about the place. I had only been living with the boys for a few days, but their lifestyle was not something I thought I could get used to.

  Their home was a lot bigger than I initially anticipated. There were four large rooms, one of which they let me use for myself, and not to mention they also had a small kitchen and dining area. When I asked them about how they had found such a place, a place that was hidden, I might add, all of the boys went uncharacteristically quiet and muttered something about their father’s strange taste in houses.

  “Where are we going?” I asked.

  “I’m taking you out for a practice run.”

  “What?”

  He ignored me as we reached the secret door to the outside. He peeked through a small eyehole, not having to crouch down any shorter at all. I would have had to squat a good amount to look through their little hole, being taller than all of them. Every boy was younger than I, even Arnold, but they were still shorter than average. They must have had tiny parents.

  “All clear,” he said as he pushed in the loose stone to trigger the door.

  We both stepped back as it clicked, then swung open.

  “Hurry,” he hissed at me. “No one can see.”

  We quickly moved to the warmth of the outside, summer air, and I watched as Arnold closed the door behind us.

  “So… what did you mean by a practice run?”

  “I’ll show you.”

  Arnold led me back out into the streets I perused with Nick just weeks before. Nick, who was probably long gone by then. The town was just as busy as when I had first seen it. My previous discovery weeks ago that I was in Bothar made even more sense than in my delirious, hungered state. As Arnold and I walked, it seemed so vast, and there were just as many nobles around us as there were the lower class people.

  Although I was born a noble, I felt like I fit in better with the peasants. Spending your life as a servant to your father can do that to you. But there was one thing I did find myself missing from living at White Manor…

  I looked down at my clothes. The brown trousers on my legs drooped past my knees in an unflattering fashion, and the shirt I wore kept falling off of my narrow shoulders. I missed being able
to dress in my pretty things, though it was a step up from my tattered travel dress and cloak, both destroyed from roaming the streets by myself for days.

  I did end up finding my satchel Larry had stolen from me, but the comfort of food and lodge while living with the boys was enough to take away any temptation to grab my stuff and run. I was pleased to have my dresses back, however. But, within a few days of wearing my beautiful clothes, the boys had urged that we find me new, more practical clothes for the life I had taken on. They still didn’t know of my background, nor I really theirs, but they knew the clothes I had on me were expensive. We sold the few ensembles in my possession, even the travel cloaks, to buy me some loose trousers and a couple of simple tops. Though, I suspected that what they bought me didn’t cover nearly as much of the money they had gotten for my garments.

  I followed Arnold around the merchants’ booths at the market, watching as he shoved small items from the tables into his pockets. He was really good at it.

  Arnold pulled me over into a dark corner past the earshot of any vendors or shoppers.

  “I want you to try something risky,” he said. “The best way to train is to practice in the real world.”

  He nodded out to the crowd again, all busy with their conversations. I eyed the people myself, beginning to feel anxious.

  “Are you sure I’m ready?”

  Arnold waved my words away. “Snow, you’ve been training with us for two weeks now. You’re actually pretty good at it.”

  I gulped. Training to be a thief was different than actually doing it. All of a sudden, it felt wrong, and my stomach started doing flips.

  “Pick someone random. Anyone. Don’t think about it. Talk to them, become their friend, flirt if you have to. Then steal from their bag or pockets without them knowing what happened.”