Princess of Dragons Bane Chapter 11

In Which a Princess Tries to be Sneaky

Maeve rotated her ankle and flexed her foot. Relaxing her entire body when the soles of her boots didn't scrape against her blisters.

The Princess grinned down at the pair of well worn leather boots, remembering how overjoyed she'd been when Father gave them to her. That summer, he'd organized a hunting trip for any interested courtiers. Leaving before Maeve could confront him and beg to come along. Upon his return, Tadgh tried to impress his daughter by showing her the bear he'd won in the hunt. Completely thrown off balance when he earned her complaints instead.

“I could have shot that beast just as well as you did if I were allowed to go,” the young Princess sulked.

The next time Tadgh showed her the pelt, it was transformed into fur lined boots and a cloak that both fit her perfectly.

“It isn't suitable for a woman to hunt in the company of men,” he explained as he handed over the peace offering. “But perhaps you can partake in more active hobbies that wouldn't make the court as frantic as a busy bee hive.”

Maeve's eyes widened when Tadgh revealed a quiver and bow along with the boots and cloak. He'd taken her to the courtyard as soon as he was able. Teaching her how to knock an arrow, line a shot, aim with precision. Until it was well known that Princess Maeve was the best archer at court.

I miss those times. She glanced at her tunic and trousers, another gift from her Father. I hope when Solus-de is healed, we can get back to how things used to be.

Tadgh and Maeve had coped with the fall of Fianna in completely different ways. The Princess had chosen to dive head first into solving the problem. Ignoring any nay sayers, any advice that they should leave fixing the Crystal to the Temple Dwellers. Tadgh decided to focus on Fianna. Pulling in every resource he could to make sure the infrastructure of the kingdom didn't buckle under the weight of its impending ruin.

Centralizing everything only made things worse. Because the more Fianna deteriorated, the harder it was to travel. Making it nearly impossible for rural communities to survive.

How did Gustav get here with the roads in such disrepair?

One of the many problems that sprung up over night was the cracking and shifting cobblestones of Fianna's roadways. When reports of injured horses and damaged wagons flooded the King's study, he made a snap decision to close down all of the compromised routes. Cutting the outskirts of the kingdom off from the capital, and by extension, any remaining supplies.

Traveling from Torren to Fianna would have forced Prince Gustav to use roads Maeve knew were closed. And while she could admit the treaty was a decent solution if Tadgh didn't want to focus on fixing the Crystal, he wouldn't risk injuring the Crown Prince of another country to broker such an agreement when negotiating by letter sufficed.

The only way Gustav could get here with a full retinue would be to fix the roads himself. With magic maybe? Maeve's mind raced as she crept through the castle's darkened halls. If I have time, I'll need to look for any records naming Prince Gustav specifically. Because if he is up to something, it's nothing good.

As curious as she was about Prince Gustav's true intentions, she couldn't let them split her focus. The entire point of sneaking out the same night she'd gotten permission was to find any record of a scroll that could curse a man into the shape of a dragon.

Maeve knew finding any record of the scroll was a long shot. After all, someone willing to curse a man probably wasn't the sort to go through the legal channels to register ownership of said curse. But at least the Record Room was a good place to start. And it was a place she knew the Stranger couldn't access, even if he was willing to leave the forest.

Darkened hallways opened up to the illumination of dim lantern light. Maeve pulled up short, peering around the corner to make sure guards weren't patrolling the corridor.

Technically, she didn't need to sneak into the Record room after receiving permission from the King. But the Princess felt uneasy about anyone knowing what she was looking for. Coming to the Record Room during the day meant explaining her purpose to one of the Record Keepers who would most certainly report to King Tadgh no matter how much Maeve swore them to secrecy.

“Steady, steady,” she murmured as she padded silently down the hall, ducking into shadows cast by the light. “You're almost there. Just a little bit further.”

Maeve glanced over her shoulder when the sound of wind chimes echoed on the breeze. Her heart pounded as she tiptoed to the door and pushed it open. Her sigh of relief mingling with a pair of happy trills when the door didn't creak on its hinges.

“Made it,” she hopped over the threshold, her eyes roaming over the massive shelves. “No one else should be in here tonight, so I think the coast is clear.”

“You would think, wouldn't you?”

The Princess pivoted on her heel, raising her fist to meet the newcomer. She barely had enough time to halt her forward momentum when she saw Bridget back away with a shriek.

“You scared me half to death,” Bridget heaved, putting her hands over her heart. 'What's the matter with you?”

“What's the matter with you?” Maeve hissed back. “What are you doing here?”

Bridget looked at Maeve like she'd injured her head instead of her feet.

“I'm here to help you,” she said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 'You know, like you asked?"

“I didn't need help with this Bridget. I needed help getting back to Eimear.”

Bridget frowned. “What sort of friend would I be if I let you do this alone? Sneaking into the Record Room is serious business Maeve. Not even your rank would stop you from being punished.”

The Princess winced. She'd been so anxious to sneak out of her room after dinner that she hadn't remembered to send Bridget a note outlining Father's terms.

You didn't know about Father's terms. Which meant you followed me thinking you could be punished. Maeve's expression softened as she beckoned Bridget forward. What did I ever do to deserve you? I have to make a point to do something you fancy for a change Bridget. I owe you that much.

The women pressed their heads together as Maeve filled Bridget in on what transpired at dinner. Bridget nodded along, her eyes brightening as she scanned the different scrolls resting on the abundance of shelves.

“Three months isn't a lot of time,” she ran her hand on the ledge of one of the shelves as she walked down the aisle. “And you need records of what, exactly? I spend a lot of time here with Father. I know the layout of the land so to speak.”

“I need to see records of the magic that's been used in the past three years, " she trailed behind Bridget, reading the titles of a few of the scrolls. "Those are held in here too, aren't they?”

Bridget's eyes locked with Maeve's, unable to hide her curiosity. “Magic scrolls? I don't remember you telling me anything about your handsome Stranger needing magic scrolls. Those records are deemed more sensitive. They’re locked in the back room,” her eyes narrowed. “But why–””

“Let's head to the back then,” Maeve breezed past Bridget, avoiding her gaze. “I promise I'm not trying to hide things from you. It's just…well, I have certain confidences to keep.”

The Forest Stranger hadn't told Maeve to stay quiet about hunting for the curse's countermeasure, but speaking of it still felt like a betrayal. It also felt wrong to keep something so monumental from Bridget, but she knew her friend much better. She knew that the Lady would forgive her, no matter how furious she was at Maeve's purposeful deception.

The Stranger was new. A foreign entity who was Maeve's current hope of freeing Solus-de. The Princess didn't want to risk that relationship by saying the wrong thing to the wrong person. And unfortunately, Bridget gossiped just as religiously as the rest of the court.

Bridget's lips became a thin line of displeasure as she plucked a set of keys off a hook on the wall. She shot Maeve a glare that seemed to say, 'Why are you trying to do this by yourself when you don't know how the Record Room works?’ before schooling her features into a cheery mask and humming while she opened the door to the back.

The smell of musty parchment wafted out of the chamber as Bridget opened the double doors. Maeve stepped inside quickly, glad when the door shut soundly behind them.

“I’ve helped Father file some of his anti drought scrolls,” Bridget's voice echoed off the high ceilings. “That's why I've been back here in the past. So…”

She glanced at Maeve expectantly. All the Princess did was step forward and start rifling through the records.

“Have it your way,” sighing, she came to Maeve's side. “You know one day, I may not be so accommodating to your whims.”

I promise when this is all over–”

“I know, you'll tell me everything,” Bridget's smile didn't reach her eyes. “This time I'm going to hold you to that Princess. Now what do you need me to do next?”

Maeve shared her theory about Gustav's travel arrangements.

'That is strange,” Bridget conceded. “But perhaps King Tadgh repaired the roads just in time for his party to travel them?”

“You're attuned to the gossip at court. Did anyone mention that?”

“No, it didn't make the rounds. But that doesn't mean it didn't happen.”

Maeve scoffed. “Really Bridget? I'd think you could come up with a better excuse than that.”

“It's highly probable King Tadgh wanted to keep repairs secret with how low the treasury has been lately.”

“Even more of a reason for news of repairs to be prominent amongst the nobility. Almost as prominent as the arrival of the Crown Prince of Torren.”

“What are you getting at Maeve? Are you saying Prince Gustav is up to something nefarious? Are you saying he won't live up to his side of the treaty?

A loud sniff pierced the silence, urging Maeve to throw down the documents she was skimming and race back to her friend. She wrapped Bridget's trembling frame in a hug, hoping her nervousness was from sneaking around at night.

“I' sorry. I said I would trust you. It just seems like the treaty is the answer to all of our problems,” Bridget sniffled, fighting to keep her tears at bay. “But what's the point of you sacrificing yourself if Prince Gustav won't be true to his word? Father could still lose everything.”

The Princess furrowed her brow. “Why would it ruin your Father?”

“He’s the Head of Agriculture, and there aren't any crops to manage. You figure it out.”

“But the rest of Father's advisors have stayed employed. Why should your father be any different?”

“King Tadgh hasn't technically dismissed anyone,” her voice wavered. “But he has told many of his advisers to spend an indefinite amount of time in their country estates."

“That isn't a dismissal.”

Bridget scoffed, bitterness lacing her tone. “It might as well be. Anyone who's been given those orders have received no communication, and no pay. King Tadgh is fiercely guarding the truth of their dismissal because he cares about his reputation more than he cares about his subjects.”

Maeve's body tensed. Her instinct was to defend her Father's actions, to tell Bridget he was doing his very best. But hadn't she had the same complaints about Father's actions, or lack thereof?

“I shouldn't disparage the King,” tears streaked down Bridget's cheeks. “This is a tough situation for all of us. But it's hard to see Father fret so much when reports come in. It's hard to try alternative planting methods for years only to see no yield.”

Maeve squeezed Bridget tighter. “I know exactly how you feel.”

“Right,” she released a watery laugh. 'I forgot who I was talking to.”

Bridget pulled away, wiping the back of her hand across her eyes. She sniffled one last time before straightening and flashing a meaningless smile Maeve's way.

“Scrolls. We were looking for scrolls.”

Maeve nodded, accepting the change in topic. “I wanted to see if there was any record of communication between Father and Prince Gustave. Would you mind looking for that while I look in here?”

“Any messages would probably be between King Tadgh and King Magnus,” Bridget mused. “But I can search for messages between Fianna and Torren in general if you'd like.”

“I didn't think of that. See? I would be hopeless without you and your political brain. Do you mind?”

Bridget gave the room a skeptical once over before shrugging.

“If you think you can tackle all of these records in one night then of course,” she gave Maeve a shallow curtsy. “Your wish is my command Princess. I'll report back in an hour or two.”

Maeve hoped her grin showed the gratitude she felt. I'll make this all up to you, I promise.

An hour passed as Maeve made her way down the long aisle of documentation. Determination making way for frustration at her lack of progress.

“There's literally a record of every ounce of magic in here, so why can't I find it?” Maeve growled as she flipped through records about cutting, cooling, cultivating, but nothing about curses. “Maybe it's under 'D’ for dragon…”

She shoved a pile of paperwork under her arm, startling when one fluttered to the ground. Her eyes widened when she knelt to pick it up and caught the name that was at the top of the document.

“Father commissioned a spell?”

The rest of the papers fell from her arms as she snatched the wayward parchment from the ground to read it more thoroughly.

Father did commission a spell. But why?

Most of the Magic Users fled Fianna as soon as it was clear that Solus-de wasn't going to recover any time soon. If Tadgh commissioned a spell, he would have had to send for a sorcerer willing enough to channel power from the kingdom's weakening well of magic.

Wait a minute, Maeve squinted at the date on the page. This happened two years ago?

“Two years ago,” her voice was barely above a whisper. “A scroll to survey Solus-de itself. A scroll to scan the Crystal for…a way to save it.”

She threw a hand over her mouth as a gasp tore through the silence. Two years ago. When it was obvious something was harming Solus-de, but there was still hope to help it. Two years ago, when Fianna still had enough of their resources to survive while the Crystal recovered.

“Two years,” she murmured again, disbelieving. “Why didn't you tell me you were looking for answers two years ago.”

You were sixteen then, her more rational side reasoned. He probably didn't want to bother you with something so critical.

It's not like Solus-de's decline was a secret, her pessimistic side drawled. Father thought you weren't capable enough to help him. He still doesn't.

Maeve snapped her eyes shut with a groan, crushing the parchment in her grip. How many times had Father told her to stop worrying because he had everything under control. How many times had he told her to stop fretting and focus more on enjoying her youth.

Every reassurance from Tadgh's lips was a misdirection. Every exasperated look, a lie. Father knew things weren't alright. That they wouldn't be alright until Solus-de was cured. So why would he waste time lying to Maeve? Why would he stop trying to aid the Crystal?

“Father,” Maeve snarled as she tucked the evidence into a loop on her belt. “You're going to answer for this, whether you like it or not. I'm going to make sure of it.”

“Maeve,” Bridget poked her head into the room. “I think I found something you want to see.”

Bridget flinched when Maeve looked up with a steely glint in her eyes

'Uh, is something wrong?”

“Show me what you found,” the Princess strode out of the backroom, locking it behind her. “I have something to show you too.”

Maeve stormed out of the Record Room, only stopping when Bridget put a hand on her arm. She pointed to an alcove the Princess hadn't noticed earlier, tugging her towards it and shoving her into a hidden doorway.

“how do you think I beat you here?” Bridget said smugly at Maeve's shocked expression. “You learn a lot about the secret passageways when you flirt a little with the servants. Now come on. It's easy to get to your rooms through most of these.”

The duo wove through spiraling tunnels until they found a much larger door. Bridget opened it, poking her head out before ushering Maeve into the hallway that did indeed let out to the front of the Princess’ chambers.

“If anyone asks, you were helping me rendezvous with a soldier,” Bridget blew Maeve a kiss before shoving a stack of paperwork at her chest. “All of those are the communications from Torren. I didn't have time to sort out whether they were with the Prince or the King, but we'll have time for that later. Calm yourself,” she pleaded when she noticed Maeve's shallow breathing. “We'll talk more in the morning about whatever's worked you into such a state.. Try and rest until then”

Maeve nodded weakly as Bridget vanished back into the passage. The Princess was too tired, too confused to do anything more than tumble into her rooms and fall onto a sofa. Looking down at the mass of papers with unseeing eyes.

~*~*~

Writingg Clean Fantasy Romance with a Dash of Humor on the Side