The Lost Princess

A Story by Ellie Alban

Princess Evelyn is gone. She died the night Lord Caine attacked her home, when he killed her father and overthrew her kingdom. To survive, she became Lady Ivy Donovan- a noble girl living off a miracl

Evelyn woke to a deafening silence. Her heartbeat thudded in her ears as an inexplicable weight settled deep in the pit of her stomach. Unnerved, she sat up and peered around her bedroom, her chest tight as she tried to keep her breaths as quiet as possible.

Despite the cold prickle running up the back of her neck she didn't see anything amiss. Every one of her books sat in its place on the shelves and every toy was where she'd left it the day before. The large stone fireplace across from her bed held nothing but cold ashes, the glowing embers from when the servants had banked it the evening before long since dead. Everything was as it should have been.

The only difference was the moon. It shone in her window and sprawled its white light over her bed, which cast a dim glow over her surroundings. She glanced over at the window and her uneasiness dissipated as its siren call beckoned her over. Curious to see what the world looked like under the vast night sky, the blonde eight year old peeled back her thick duvet.

The smooth stone floor was cold beneath her feet as she crept over to the window and the chill of the room wrapped around her like a shawl. She knew she was forbidden to be out of her bed this late at night and she reveled in it.

She knelt on the soft cushion of the window seat as she peered out at the moonlit world and rested her hands on the rough wood of the sill. Everything outside looked the same as it did here in her room, awash in white light that made it appear simply magical.

The walls of the castle glowed white as the ivy that stretched across them fluttered, disturbed by a gentle breeze. The silver leaves rippled like wind across still water as their shadows danced on the rough stones. Fascinated, Evelyn pressed her face against the cold glass to try to see more.

The world looked so peaceful. She longed to go outside and know what it would be like to run under the light of the moon.

A flicker of orange light in the distance caught her eye, which drew her attention from the ivy. Her brow furrowed as she wiped the window from where her breath had fogged it and peered out once again. The light flickered again, well outside the palace walls near the dark smudge of trees that edged the grounds. It looked like fire, she decided. Her stomach fluttered again. Could it be a dragon? She loved it when her nursemaid would tell her stories of magical creatures. She would have given anything to see a dragon for herself.

She watched with bated breath as the light grew. It sailed closer and closer until it embedded itself in a wooden flag post on one of the ramparts. The guards stationed in the courtyard noticed it too and Evelyn watched one of them, puzzled, as he ran for the watchtower. Seconds later the large bell at the top rang out. The sound rattled the window under her palms and she jerked back as though she'd been burned. Her eyes widened as more fires sparked in the distance and steadily grew closer until an army materialized out of the shadows at the edge of the trees.

Their cries echoed all the way across the grounds and her chest seized with terror as a single man stepped out of the crowd. His armor glinted in the light of a thousand torches as though he himself were made of flames. He drew his massive sword and thrust it into the air in a silent signal to the rest of the men. The crowd surged forward as they yelled with renewed fervor.

Evelyn scrambled backward off the seat and landed hard on the cold ground as the weight in her gut returned with full force.

She had to find her mother. Now.

Her feet pattered against the stones as she tore out of the room. The sound of the bell followed her down the hall and her head whipped back and forth each time she passed a corridor, half expecting the men from outside to be waiting for her at the other end.

She skidded around another corner and came to a halt as she choked back a scream at the sight before her. The guards who always stood at the doors to her parent's chambers lay sprawled on the ground, motionless. She bit her tongue and forced herself to step around their prone forms. They didn't stir. She tugged on the handles of the heavy oak doors. They didn't budge. Desperation flooded her body as she planted her foot on one and pulled mightily on the handle of the other. It slid open with a quiet groan as she tumbled to the floor and landed on the leg of one of the guards.

She shook her head and scrambled to her feet. The crack in the door was barely wide enough for her to squeeze through but she forced her way in and sprinted across the foyer towards the bedchamber. Her parents lay peacefully in their bed, oblivious to the world as Evelyn threw herself towards her mother and shook her with both hands.

"Mother! Mother! Someone's attacking the palace!" She said in a loud whisper as the Queen stirred.

The faint sound of the bell from the watchtower echoed through the room as she redoubled her efforts.

"Mother!" She cried, her voice echoing through the room.

The Queen jolted awake to see her daughter beside her, distress painted across her pale face.

"What? Evelyn, darling, what is it?" She asked as she sat up and reached out to soothe the girl.

Evelyn twisted away from her embrace.

"The bell! It's ringing!" She shouted. "Someone's attacking the palace!"

The bell tolled again as if to confirm her words.

Realization dawned on the Queen's face, before dread replaced it a moment later. Wasting no time, she threw back the covers and reached for her husband.

"Edward! Wake up!" She cried as she shook him roughly.

The King jerked upright. His blonde hair stood straight up on one side from where he'd slept on it as he peered at his wife and daughter. Any other time, Evelyn might have laughed at his hair and the look of shock on his face but the cold terror that raced through her body kept any other emotions at bay.

"Bloody hell, Anneliese. What is it? It's the middle of the night," he said as he blinked the sleep from his eyes.

"We're under attack, Edward. We need to leave. Now," the Queen replied as she got out of bed.

The main bell tower of the palace picked up the alarm and the deep sound reverberated clearly through the walls as the King's expression changed in an instant. Every hint of fatigue vanished from his face as he jumped up and grabbed his trousers and his sword and pulled them on as fast as he could. He tugged a tunic over his head as he rushed back over to his wife and daughter and gave them each a kiss.

"Take Evelyn and get out. Go through the stables. I'm going to help the guards," he commanded.

"Edward, wait�""

Anneliese tried to grab her husband's arm as he ran from the room, his sword drawn. She sighed and knelt in front of her daughter as she forced a calm smile on her face. Evelyn's expression was one of terror as Anneliese ignored the insistent tolling of the bell and tucked a piece of the girl’s blonde hair behind her ear.

"Don't worry, dear. We're going to be fine. We need to leave now," she said as she tried to keep the tremor from her voice.

Evelyn nodded.

The Queen cast a glance at the doors to the foyer, which was still mercifully quiet except for the sound of the bells as she reached up and unclasped her necklace. The blood red gemstone glinted in its delicate silver setting as she fastened it around Evelyn's neck. Her fingers fumbled with the clasp as she kept a nervous eye on the door. It was her wedding gift from her husband, an heirloom that had been in his family for centuries.

"Look after this for me. That way I will always be with you, even if we aren't together."

"I don't want you to leave," Evelyn replied. Her lip trembled. Why was her mother talking like she was going to leave?

"I don't want to leave you, either," the Queen said as she took her daughter's hand.

She hurried to her writing desk as a pit gaped open in her chest. As much as she hated to even think of it, she wasn't a fool. She knew what this night could bring.

Inside one of the drawers lay a dagger in a white and silver sheath. She withdrew it and fastened it around the girl's waist, wrapping the belt twice around so it would fit. She forced herself to move slowly, to stay calm for Evelyn, despite every instinct that screamed at her to grab her daughter and run.

"I'm scared," the girl replied in a broken voice.

Her mother looked up at her and rested a hand on her cheek.

"I need you to be brave, Evelyn. I know your father has played knights with you before, so here you are. Your very own blade," Anneliese said as she prayed to all the gods Evelyn would never need it.

The barest hint of a smile tugged at her daughter's lips, despite the fear in her eyes.

"Don't worry, Mother. I'll protect you," she said.

Anneliese smiled. "That's my girl."

Not wasting another second, she took Evelyn's hand and left the room. The main doors were thrown open in the King's wake and the guards still lay motionless on the ground. Anneliese gently touched one of the guard's necks, then the other. A weak pulse beat beneath her fingertips both times and she breathed a sigh of relief. She stepped around them and guided her daughter into the hallway.

"Follow me," she whispered to Evelyn.

She tightened her grip on her daughter's hand as she took off down the hall at a run.

The Queen's nightdress fluttered in Evelyn's face and the girl batted it out of the way as she sped up. They wound their way through the halls and down the stairwell by the kitchens as yells and the sound of clashing metal echoed faintly from the front of the palace.

They were halfway down the hall when they heard a cry.

"Wait!"

Anneliese whirled around to see Evelyn's cousin, Peter, hurrying after them.

"Peter, what are you doing here?" The Queen hissed as she cast a wide eyed glance behind him. "Did anyone see you?"

"He... he told me to come with you. To protect Evelyn. His Majesty, I mean. He told me where you were going," the boy puffed, out of breath.

"Very well," she decided, with another glance behind them. "Come along, quickly now."

Peter followed obediently as Anneliese hurried down the hall. Evelyn glanced back down the dark hallway as her mother pulled her along. Her heart screamed for her father. They shouldn't be leaving without him. He was still back there somewhere.

Someone took her other hand and looked up to see Peter next to her. His hand shook as he squeezed hers but he smiled nonetheless.

"Don't worry, Evie. I'll protect you," he whispered.

She nodded and squeezed his hand in return. Peter was only two years older than her but he was much bigger. He would keep her safe. She would be alright.

Anneliese motioned for the children to stay back and cracked open the door at the end of the hall. The moon lit up the grounds around her, and she bit her lip. True, it made it easier for her to see any danger but it also made it much easier for the danger to see them.

The cold night air caressed Evelyn's face as her mother motioned for them to follow her. The chill permeated her thin nightdress as she shivered and hurried across the dark carriageway. Her mother held open the door to the stables and they ducked inside, enveloped in darkness once again as the door shut behind them.

Gone was the chill; now the air was eerily still and warm and smelled of hay. The silence pressed in on Evelyn as it had in her room, disturbed only by the snuffling of the horses and the shuffling of their feet on the stone floor. At the end of the hall, near the large doors, Anneliese stopped and turned to the children.

"We're going to ride for Addiron," she told them. "Peter, you know how to get home from here, yes?"

The boy nodded as the Queen walked towards a tall, strong looking black horse with a white mark that whisked down its nose. She heaved the saddle up from its place outside the stall and threw it over the horse's back. It took some effort to secure the straps properly in the dark, but once she was sure they were done correctly she turned to prepare another horse when the thud of boots sounded outside the doors.

She rushed over to the children and grabbed them by the arms to steer them firmly towards a ladder in the corner.

"Quick! Climb into the hayloft and hide!" She hissed at them. "Keep your heads down and stay quiet."

Evelyn froze. Try as she might, she couldn't get her legs to move as cold panic flooded through her. Peter scampered up the ladder and looked back down as Anneliese hoisted her daughter into the air.

"Evelyn, climb!" Her mother ordered.

The girl looked up to see Peter's face above her, the same panic written across his features. She gulped, her arms like lead as she used the rest of her strength to pull herself up the ladder. Peter grabbed her arms once she was high enough and awkwardly hauled her the rest of the way into the hayloft. They scrabbled over the rough wood towards the piles of hay nearby and covered themselves in the sweet smelling grass as the stable doors burst open below them and hit the walls with a bang.

A horse whinnied in alarm, which covered any other sounds they might have made as Peter and Evelyn froze and stared down through the wooden slats with wide eyes.

Light flooded the room as half a dozen men carrying torches and swords surrounded her mother. The Queen eyed them warily as more bootsteps thudded on the ground to signal another approach. Evelyn wiggled as she tried to get a better view but Peter held her firmly in place.

Her heartbeat was deafening in her ears and she hardly dared breathe as a tall man came to a halt in front of her mother.

"Caine," the Queen snarled at the newcomer.

The man took a step forward. Evelyn could see him clearly now through the gaps in the boards; the flickering light of the torches cast shadows across his face that made his features appear as though they'd been chiseled from stone. His dark hair was swept back as though he'd just been riding a horse and the edges just reached the top of the ornate metal breastplate under his dark cloak. Cruel eyes peered out from under austere brows as his hard-set mouth twisted into a mocking smirk behind his short beard.

"Hello, Anneliese dear. I thought I'd drop by for a visit," he said lightly.

He surveyed her as though she were a prize. Some of his men snickered.

"What do you want?" Anneliese demanded, not a hint of fear in her voice as she raised her chin.

"Straight to the point, as always," Caine sighed, his demeanor nonchalant as he tugged off his black gloves and tucked them into his belt. "What do I want? Well, the palace is mine. Elyria is mine. Your dear husband is gone. Without him you have no claim whatsoever to the throne, so there is only one thing left I want. Your daughter. Where is she?"

Evelyn held her breath as she fought off the tears that pooled in her eyes. Father was dead? He couldn't be. Peter just saw him. He couldn't be. He couldn't�"

"She's dead."

Her mother's frigid reply recaptured her attention.

"Now, now, Anneliese. I don't appreciate liars," Caine said, still unnervingly calm. "I know she's still alive. My men at the palace saw her just this morning."

"Go to hell," spat the Queen.

A crack rang through the stables as the back of his hand connected with her face. She stumbled but caught herself and gently took ahold of her cheek.

"My, such disrespect," he said, his soft tone colored with a hint of warning. "Perhaps you should be nicer to your new King."

It was all Peter could do to stop Evelyn from launching herself out of the hayloft at the man. He wrapped his arms around her and pinned her legs with one of his as he clamped a hand over her mouth. Her tears soaked his fingers as he held her still. After a few moments, she stopped struggling and he relinquished his grip but kept his arm firmly around her shoulders.

Evelyn swiped her tears away as she glared back through the slats at the man below them.

Anneliese stood tall, her shoulders taught as Caine surveyed her with a smirk.

"Now this could go two ways," he continued softly as he moved closer until he was right in front of her. "You could resist, which would end with you joining your husband. Or you could come quietly and live as my Queen�" to keep up appearances, such as it is. I think the people will be much more accommodating to this shift in power if they see their Queen supports me, don't you?"

Evelyn watched as Caine leaned forward to whisper something in her mother's ear. A moment later he stepped back and ran a finger down her cheek as she continued to glare at him. After what felt like an eternity, she bowed her head.

"Good choice," he said.

He motioned to his men and two of them stepped forward and took her by the arms.

"Take her to one of the guest suites and organize a few scouting parties to ride out along the main roads. She likely sent the Princess away with someone else when the attack began."

He turned and stalked out of the stables as his dark cloak swished behind him. The rest of the men followed and escorted the Queen out of the stables.

Once they were out of sight Evelyn sat up and choked back a gasp as sobs racked her small form. Father was gone. Mother was gone. That horrible man had taken her. Hot tears poured down her face as Peter wrapped his arms around her.

"Evie, please, we need to go," he pleaded quietly as he tried to move the distraught princess.

She buried her face in his shoulder.

"Mother," she hiccupped.

"Wanted you to escape. She told us to run," Peter tried to reason with her.

She sniffled and stayed in the safety of his shoulder for a few moments longer. Finally, she pulled back and looked up at her cousin with watery gray eyes.

"Will you go with me?" She asked, her voice small.

"Anywhere, Princess," he replied with a small smile.

Evelyn sniffed. He only called her Princess when he was being serious, so he must have been telling the truth.

Peter scooted over to the ladder and lowered himself down as he checked to make sure the men were truly gone before he motioned for Evelyn to follow him. He took her hand and let her to the horse the Queen had saddled before he drew Evelyn into the shadows. He clambered up into the saddle; his feet didn't quite reach the stirrups but he hooked them into the straps as best he could before he looked down to where Evelyn waited. She took his hand and grasped for purchase on the smooth leather as Peter pulled her up into the saddle rather inelegantly.

"Sorry, Evie," he said one she righted herself and slid into the saddle behind him. "Now put your arms around me so you don't fall. It's going to be a long ride."

Evelyn did as she was told and buried her face into Peter's back as the bumpy journey began. Peter urged the horse out of the stables and guided it towards the edge of the grounds, through a gap in the stone wall that lined the border. Just before they passed into the woods Evelyn looked back to see her home as it glowed white in the moonlight. It looked peaceful and the stone walls gave no hint that anything out of the ordinary had happened that night.

"You're okay, Princess," Peter said.

Evelyn swallowed the lump in her throat as more tears threatened to spill.

"I'm not," she whispered. "I'm not okay. And I'm not a Princess. My mother said so. Princess Evelyn is dead."