Holiday Magick (2 page)

Every Saturday, at precisely 3:00, the pair would meet at the gates, clasp hands and walk through the garden without uttering a single word—taking in the sights, sounds, and beauty of the world around them. It was Daniella's idea, believing that the silence would bring them closer together. But while she took in all of the scenery and passersby, Valentine found that no amount of beauty could compare to the stunning features of Daniella's face. Not once did he take his eyes off her.

As they neared the large fountain in the center of the garden, Valentine could hardly stand it; he was bursting at the seams to say something—anything. On this, their fifteenth walk through the garden, Daniella had yet to break their silent tradition. At last, when they finally did reach the fountain, they would simply look at each other, never knowing who should speak first or what they should say. This was Valentine's favorite moment—when the world around them seemed to disappear completely and their most intimate conversations would begin.

Valentine eagerly broke the silence. “You look incredible.”

Daniella smiled, blushed, and shied away from Valentine's stare. “Thank you,” she sweetly replied. “You're looking as handsome as ever.” She sat down on the fountain's edge and gingerly ran her fingers through the clear blue water.

“Oh, Daniella, how can you stand it? Not speaking for so long?” He sat down beside her, never releasing her hand.

“My dearest Valentine, it's only been ten minutes.” She laughed and he brought his hand to her cheek. “Is it really so hard for you to be in my presence without speaking?”

“Of course it is! Every week, we sit at this fountain. For nearly four months, I have found myself falling deeper and further for you. From the moment I lay eyes on you, all I want to do is shout to the world that I am madly in love with you!”

“Darling…you have no idea how much I adore hearing you speak those words. I feel precisely the same way.”

Valentine stood up beside her and rubbed his hands together nervously.

“What are you doing?” she asked. “Sit back down next to me.”

“Oh, I will, I assure you. I just…there's something I must do, and I'm not quite sure how to do it.”

Valentine slowly got on bended knee and pulled a gold ring from his pocket.

Daniella took in a breath as she brought her hands to her cheeks. “Oh…” she whispered.

“Daniella, since I've met you, my life has changed entirely.
I
have been changed. Your beauty…no, your remarkable beauty is only matched by your gifted intelligence and incredible devotion to those you love.” He grabbed both her hands. “My dear, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

By this point, Daniella had begun to sob, receiving smiles and stares from those around her. Valentine knew that the feeling in his heart would never be matched at any moment in his life—he felt full, complete, happy. As the seconds ticked by, though, his nerves returned in full force. Daniella had never been speechless before, but this time, she had no reply.

“My love?” Valentine cautiously asked. As the flow of tears from her eyes grew endless, he slowly added, “It's all right if you don't want to…”

Daniella burst into a fit of laughter like a giddy child, and she found her voice again. “Of course, silly! Of course I will marry you!” she exclaimed.

Valentine slipped the ring on her finger, pulled her up to him, and spun her in a circle. “Oh, Daniella! I am the happiest man alive!”

“On one condition,” she replied.

He quickly placed her feet on the ground and stood still as a statue. “I would do anything for you,” he said resolutely.

“You must never again doubt my love as you did just now.” Daniella's smile was enough to set his heart on fire once more.

Together, they stood in front of the King's throne. All was quiet as they waited for His Majesty's arrival. Valentine could feel the clamminess of his palms and quickly dried them on his pants.

“You mustn't be so nervous, darling,” Daniella reassured him. “You've already received his permission.”

Valentine placed his now-dry hand around hers once more. “Yes, permission to
ask
for your hand in marriage, not for his blessing on our union. This is entirely different.”

“How so?”

“Well, to begin with, I'm pretty sure he thought you'd say no.”

Daniella flashed him a radiant smile that instantly calmed his nerves. This was definitely the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. He was moving forward to sneak a quick kiss when the large oak door opened behind them. His Majesty the King stood over six feet tall, with broad shoulders that easily carried the heavy weight of royal robes. The King walked swiftly and seriously to his throne, but instead of sitting, he turned and towered above the pair.

“So?” The King prodded.

Daniella and Valentine turned to each other. Who should speak first? Why hadn't they discussed this ahead of time? Valentine decided it was his obligation to speak up for the both of them as a show of his courage. Although nervous to the core, he spoke with an air of confidence and pride.

“Your Majesty, your daughter has accepted my marriage proposal.” He forced himself to swallow his anxiety as he continued. “We are to be married on the fourteenth of February.”

“Are you now?” the King replied, skeptical. Valentine didn't know if this was the King's true feelings, or if it was a test. He decided to continue with his feigned confidence.

“Yes, Your Majesty. Exactly one month from today.” He stole a glance at Daniella and saw her grin spread from ear to ear. “We love each other, and do not wish to wait any longer.”

“Hmmm…”

Valentine desperately wished he could read the King's mind or pull a single clue from the man's face, a single thought from his head. As the silence bore into him, he finally continued, “I do love you daughter, Sire, more than anything in this life or the next.”

“Hmmm…” The King turned to his daughter. “Daniella, what say you?”

Happiness was all that shone on her face, and just as an elated daughter would—princess or not—Daniella released Valentine's hand and threw her arms around the King.

“Oh, Father! I am the happiest girl on Earth!”

“Are you now?”

“Stop teasing us!” She playfully hit his broad chest—the only person ever permitted to do so. Since the death of Daniella's mother nearly ten years earlier, the Princess was the only family the King had left, and he would give her the world if he could. Everyone in the kingdom admired and emulated their playful and devoted relationship.

“Oh, Father, thank you for giving us your blessing. It means so much to—ooh!”

Valentine froze as he watched his bride-to-be grab her stomach and bend over in pain, her face revealing her excruciating agony. Valentine felt his heart sink to the floor.

“It hurts!” she yelled, loud enough to shake him from his stupor.

“Daniella?” The King placed both his arms around her shoulders as she groaned one last time and collapsed at his feet.

“Daniella!” Valentine shouted and started toward her, his yell having garnered the attention of the King's guards as they burst into the room in full armor.

“No!” the King bellowed across the room, stopping both Valentine and the guards in their tracks.

“You all,” he yelled to the guards, “carry the Princess to her chamber and have the Healer see her immediately!” The guards reacted instantly; before Valentine could even take one step closer to his fiancée, she was whisked out of the room and out of his sight.

“And you…” The King's eyes bore directly into Valentine's soul; he felt sick to his stomach and utterly confused. How could the King possibly keep him from Daniella at her time of need?

“You,” the King continued, gasping deeply, showing clear signs of panic, “you are nothing but bad luck. The minute I entrust my daughter to you…the minute she speaks of your marriage, she falls over ill?” Valentine could see tears in the King's eyes. “My Daniella,” the King whispered. “Please, God, let her recover.”

“Sire…” Valentine started, unsure of how even to begin, “please, allow me to see Daniella. I love her. I would do anything for her.”

“You are a curse on her very heart and soul.” The King's sadness quickly reverted back to anger. “Get out of my castle before I send you to the gallows!”

It was then that the full realization hit Valentine—that this might actually have been the last time he would see Daniella. That everything he loved about her—her smile, her laughter, her kiss—they had all been the last. This was completely unacceptable.

“No,” Valentine stated calmly.

“You dare defy your King?”

“I dare defy being separated from the one I love. She may be your daughter, but she is
my
fiancée. The last time I see her face will not be as she is carried unconscious from this room.” Valentine used all of his might to keep his voice from rising. He knew the words he had spoken were already enough to have him executed.

“What you say is treason, Valentine. I—”

“Your Majesty?” someone interrupted.

The quiet voice came from a corner of the throne room—a secret door that opened from within the wall. The Royal Healer stood in the doorway, eyes glossed over.

“Your Majesty…I'm so sorry,” the Healer said weakly.

The King's defeated face caused Valentine's stomach to drop.

“What? What is it?” Valentine frantically asked, terrified of the answer to come. “What's wrong with her?”

“She has been stricken with the red virus.”

“No.” Valentine stumbled backward, trying to put as much space between himself and the Healer as possible. “No, it can't be…it simply cannot be. The red virus is a commoner's disease. She is the Princess! You must fix this!” Valentine looked over to the King. “She is your daughter; how can you simply stand there and do nothing?”

“There is no proven cure. Trust me, I know.” He sighed. “Daniella's mother, too, died of the virus…this horrid disease seems to take everyone I love.”

The Healer placed a hand on the King's shoulder. “We will make her comfortable, Your Highness. But you should be with her now.”

Valentine watched in shock as the King headed to Daniella's chamber with slumped shoulders and a beaten manner. Slowly, the King turned back and looked intently into Valentine's eyes.

“When her mother fell ill with the disease, she died within a few weeks.”

“No!”

“If you truly love Daniella…if there is nothing you desire more than to become her husband, then you will find a cure. Save my daughter.” The King turned back toward the door and mumbled something most men wouldn't understand, but which Valentine clearly heard, for he was feeling the same way; as the King slowly walked away, he had muttered, “Save my life.”

It didn't take Valentine long to realize that everyone in the village had given up on ever finding a cure for the red virus. Most people, on hearing his request for any information at all, would simply slam the door in his face, afraid that they would somehow catch the virus just by speaking to him.

There must be someone who could tell him something! After the last apothecary in the village had turned his back on him, Valentine grew desperate. As a boy, he had heard rumors of an old wizard residing in the caves of a nearby forest. Valentine had never ventured that far out before, but he would not let fear of the unknown stand in his way. He simply prayed that the rumors were true, not knowing that he would spend a good portion of a week looking for those caves.

It was only by happenchance that, while drinking from a lake, Valentine noticed a small patch of smoke rising from the trees. He followed the sight until he arrived at a tiny clearing, where a small man danced by himself around the flames of a fire. Valentine was afraid of interrupting the short, old man in case he was performing some sort of dark magic. Instead, he stood and watched from behind a bush, taking note of the man's tattered robes, loose-fitting pants and long, white beard. After hiding for the better part of two hours, Valentine could no longer stand the waiting and cautiously entered the fire's midst.