Beauty and the Beast (Faerie Tale Collection) (16 page)

An invitation was also sent to Lord Willington, but he graciously declined, of course. His bride did lament the fact she could not attend, but after buying her a new puppy that chewed his shoes, slippers, and boots to smithereens, she was happy again. And life continued on in the Willingtons’ household as well as could be expected.

Mrs. Hammerstein-Smythe was said to be the happiest of all. Her joys and crows and excitements could be heard for years after the union. In fact, if the prince were not so dastardly strict with his counsel on gossiping about his wife’s family—it would have been the mother-in-law who would have received the brunt of it. As it was, the villagers had to do the inner grumblings within their own homes and pretend all was well everywhere else.

Cecelia could not have honestly cared less. Her life was complete; she’d found a man to adore her just the way she was. And no matter if he were a prince or a wolf, she loved him anyway. It was not shortly afterward that the castle began to crawl with princes and princesses of its very own, which broadened and widened the great love she had for her husband even more.

As for our dear Alexander, he found that an abundant life was a reward for those who treated others kindly. And a day never went by, from that time forth, where he did not mutter thanks to the old wise woman for teaching him the true value of beauty. He did build that rose garden in her honor, and what a glory it was to behold. So stunning!

He had to, because he learned through the lesson of petals and thorns and a pretty girl, that you are only worth how good your soul truly is.

And she felt he was priceless.

Next in the Jenni James Faerie Tale Collection:

SLEEPING BEAUTY

CHAPTER ONE

QUEEN ALEYNA’S EYES FLUTTERED open and she smiled at the shimmering sunlight which streamed through her bedroom curtains. Another beautifully perfect day. She stretched and wiggled her toes under the navy blue crushed velvet duvet and slipped out of the golden sheets to pad across the floor to her window.

The world beneath her castle tower was bathed in a sea of greens and yellows and glorious multicolored blossoming bushes and trees. Her village was nestled among the rolling hills and streams and winding cobblestone paths that jutted out all around the lower portion of the mountain, where her castle was happily situated, and spread to the valley below. Many homesteads and farms and fields of bounteous crops covered the great landscape as far as the eye could see.

Indeed Aleyna’s kingdom was one of the most sought after and desired realms in all the world. She could not believe her good fortune in having such a prosperous and superior land. Her subjects were also known to be quite magnificent and studious in their own way as well. And to reward them for their kindness and diligence she always guaranteed they were treated above that of other monarchies and rulers around.

Her people were given several holidays each year, multiple gifts of food, household supplies, adornments and even many frivolous items would find their way into their homes from their dear queen. How she loved them. How she loved her land, her people, her life.

It was undeniably faultless.

An enchanted kingdom to be glorified and loved by all.

Aleyna sighed in contentment as she rested her head against the smoothly-plastered stone wall and looked out the windowpane. The birds chattered and chirped and flew in delightful winging dances in the sky as they popped in and out of wistful clouds. Here was joy. Here was life at its best and she could never imagine desiring anything more.

And yet, if one could step back and but see the tragedy behind her contentment, one would know that all she witnessed below her, all she imagined above, all her hopes and dreams—were just that—dreams.

An illusion.

Queen Aleyna’s life was so desperately heartrending, so tragically sorrowful, that one would need to enchant the beautiful queen and all those surrounding her and with her—all of her dear subjects—into a state of never ending bliss.

To allow her to unknowingly sleep through this horror, to allow her to heal through the pain she could not feel, to keep her from all those memories that would threaten to disarm and own her—she had to be kept in such a state. Until one who was worthy enough could come along and teach her, hold her, comfort her, release the joyful spell surrounding her contentment, and more importantly kiss her awake to the true being that was hers.

Until then, until one such worthy man came into her life and bravely fought those demons who sought to destroy her, Queen Aleyna’s existence was perpetually on hold.

And she was forever trapped within a state of no progression, wrapped in a bubble of peace, and eternally asleep—as if she were a ghost—to the harsh realities awaiting her. Ignorant to all but what she knew and could remember, she would be forever known as the Sleeping Queen…

***

Prince Darien laughed as he dodged another wayward thrust of the king’s sword. At this rate he and Michael, the King of Alemade, would be at it all night. He hooted as his friend lunged forward again. And as Darien quickly sidestepped the attack he could not help but taunt him, “Is this the greatest you’ve got within you? How can you hope to defend yourself, let alone a whole kingdom?”

The king grunted and swung his sword, missing the prince by a good six inches. “Perhaps if you held still long enough, I could show you how good my maneuvers are!”

Darien chuckled and took a step back, his foot slipping slightly on the wet grass of the castle lawn, before deftly lifting his sword and blocking two more wild attempts from Michael. “Admit defeat, old man, and I may let you live to see another day.” It was the same thing he said to the king each week as they practiced, and true to form his friend was quick to respond in kind.

“If you weren’t such a coward and could fight like a real man, I’d be able to blacken your lights for you instantly.”

“Aw, yes, but we’re not using fisticuffs, now are we? In fact we’re—”

“And another thing! I am
not
an old man.” The king huffed as he haphazardly sliced his blade through the air. “I—” He stepped forward. “—am only—” Steel smacked against steel. “—five years older than you.” Michael wiped his brow and cursed Darien’s impeccable sword fighting skills, it was impossible to attempt to break through any of his defenses. “And the last time I checked, you were twenty-five years old.”

“Yes, but twenty-seven is still much younger than you!” Darien took two steps forward arching his blade in the air and swiftly popping Michael’s sword right out of his hand. It flew gracefully, allowing the handle to be caught up by the prince signifying the game was at an end.

Michael was drenched in sweat while Darien looked as though he had merely taken a leisurely stroll upon the grounds. “One of these days I am going to learn your secret,” said the king as he wiped his mouth on his shirtsleeve.

“My secret?” Darien walked over to the bush where they had hung their royal coats twenty minutes earlier, placing the swords down, he collected them. “And what secret is this?” He raised a dashing brow as he handed Michael’s bright green coat back to him.

The king shook the garment and waved off the servant who had run up to help, before slipping his arms into the sleeves. “Your ability to look so dashed cool and unaffected—so debonair—whilst in the midst of dueling, no less.”

Darien’s eyes twinkled as he put on his coat of navy and silver trimmings. “Didn’t you know? Us single men must practice these things in the looking glasses at home, just during such an occasions as these, for who is to know whether a stunning female will not come by and catch us looking a spectacle.” When the king grunted, he continued, “Well, you do have Cassandra, you know. And she is by far everything on this good earth that is praiseworthy indeed. But, with such a woman at your side and as your queen, be grateful you do not have to practice like I do.”

Michael raised his eyes heavenward briefly as he straightened the coat over his tan colored breeches. “If I believed half the nonsense you sputtered out, I’d be a very foolish man,” he said, before walking to the bush, collecting his sword, and sliding it within its sheath.

Darien laughed as he buttoned the coat. “You’d be a very foolish
old
man.”

“You know, I’d watch your crowing if I were you.” The king smirked and turned around. “Remember, boy, I know what truly does put you out of countenance—what you are most afraid of in all the world. So do not keep spouting your old jokes, for I can guarantee I can make you squirm and sweat just like the rest of us.”

The prince snorted and walked over to his sword. He titled his head to the side and smugly grinned as he looked up at Michael while sliding the blade in its scabbard. “There is nothing I’m afraid of on this globe. Nothing at all—so whatever you have against me, remember it is merely a child’s imaginings.”

“Oh-ho! First I am too old, and now I am a child who imagines?”

“That is not what I meant, and you know it.” Darien’s gaze settled on his friend, they were almost brothers—had been raised like brothers—and there was no one he trusted more. The redheaded king was handsome, extremely so and had a beautiful blonde queen at his side to prove it. They’d begun to have a score of adorable little redheads and blondes themselves, and with the birth of the last one—a little girl all fiery curls and giggles—Darien founding himself longing to settle down as well. If only he could find a woman half as agreeable as Cassandra, he might just do it too.

But this sort of thinking would get him nowhere. He cleared his throat and explained, “I meant that whatever you believe me to be afraid of, was most likely something you conjured up back when we were boys. So if in reality, I am afraid of it—which I highly doubt—then it was something that I’ve long past put behind me.”

The king smiled and patted him on the back. “I’m not discussing spiders or girls here. I’m talking about something much more terrifying in your eyes. In fact, I know you would change color at this moment if I were to speak of it, so lifeless and cold would you become.”

Darien pulled away laughing and began to head back toward the castle. “There is nothing you could say that would frighten me. Nothing.” He glanced back and waited for his friend to catch up to him. “Though, I am very curious what you believe you have got against me. Indeed this may be the most intriguing thing I’ve come upon all morning.”

“Should I tell you then?” asked the king as he stepped in stride with the prince.

“Oh, most definitely, you look too sure of yourself, I must take that smirk off your face. So out with it man—do your best! I dare you to find something that would startle me.”

Michael’s grin grew. Truly, Darien was too easy to bait sometimes. He may be the better swordsman, but his own pride got too much in the way of rational thinking. Hesitating only a moment or two, he went ahead and satisfied his young friend. It was time the man realized he was not invincible—at least not when it came to things of a bone chilling nature. “Ghosts, Darien. You have and will always be decidedly against the visitations of anything of the spiritual, ghouly, phantom, or specter realm—the realm of the dead.”

The king watched Darien’s face pale as his feet stalled, before continuing, “And no matter how old you or I become, that night of our first haunting will forever ring through my memories. And you boy, would be a fool to deny such aversions.” His voice grew low and sinister just to guarantee the prince squirmed. “To deny it, only warrants their return even more…”

ABOUT JENNI

Jenni James
is the happy mother of seven boisterous children and the author of several book babies that include:
Pride & Popularity
,
Northanger Alibi
and
Persuaded
from The Jane Austen Diaries for teens and Prince Tennyson an inspirational novel. She enjoys writing clean literature for children, teens and adults. Look out for more of her Faerie Tale Collection;
Sleeping Beauty
and
Rumplestiltskin
are coming soon! To get all the latest news and updates come find her on facebook: Author Jenni James or visit her website authorjennijames.com she loves to hear from her readers and can be emailed directly at: [email protected]

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Copyright © 2012 by Jenni James

All rights reserved as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior permission of the publisher.

StoneHouse Ink 2012

StoneHouse Ink

Boise ID 83713

http://www.stonehouseink.net

First eBook Edition: 2012

First Paperback Edition: 2012

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to a real person, living or dead is coincidental and not intended by the author.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means for example, electronic, photocopy, recording without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.

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Published in the United States of America