A Trilogy's Fourth Book

Chapter 8 - Stranger Danger

Claire stood above the sleeping Ashley's bed. Even in sleep, she was picturesque. Long honey-gold hair, soft as feather down, spread across her pillow. Flesh delicately pale, long eyelashes brushing her cheeks. Claire couldn't have written her better. Almost too well. Feeling a bit frumpy over here. Although I'll bet the other princesses are just as stunning—I wrote them to be. Ugh.

Before her character's removal, Ashley was to be the secret fourth princess, and not a little bit of a stereotype. Claire was going to use her to try for an almost traditional fairytale, allowing her to expand her writing muscles but still be adhering to the confines of Young Adult.

Claire gently touched Ashley's arm, and to her surprise, the girl stirred. Maybe because I'm her author? Ashley's eyes fluttered open, revealing them to be a deep aquamarine, with just a hint of the same emerald as Vander's eyes. Claire had never felt so washed out. Pasty skin, bleached hair, watery blue eyes with dark shadows from her night watch over Ashley. All her characters were pretty, but she felt she may have overdone it on her heroes and heroines.

"Pardon me, but who are you?" Ashley whispered, and Claire was shaken out of her rather depressing reverie.

"Mary, could you please fetch Prince Vander. Wake him if you must."

Her ever-present companion trudged out—she was on the same grueling sleep schedule as Claire.

"My name is Claire, I'm a guest of your brother's. How're you feeling?"

"A mite tired if I must admit. Is my brother free?"

"I'm right here Ashley." Vander rushed into the sickroom and hugged his sister tightly. Both had tears dotting the corners of their eyes. Claire's were welling up too.

"Thank you for your help, Claire." Vander stood and bowed to her. Mary's and Claire's eyebrows rose. This was the first time the prince had used her actual name.

"Of course. If you don't mind, I'd like to return to my quarters. It's late, or early."

Prince Vander nodded, and Claire and Mary departed the room to head to bed.

"You really are quite remarkable, my lady," Mary yawned. Claire glanced at her in surprise. "Despite your strangeness."

Claire laughed. "There it is. And here I thought it was because of it."

"Again. Strange."

***

"Be silent. I've come to rescue you."

Claire shot awake with a hand covering her scream. Two deep pools of the darkest chocolate framed with impossibly long eyelashes filled her vision. Is this another princess? Why do I keep thinking of my heroes in these flowery descriptions?

"Will you be silent?" asked the soft whisper with a hint of a lyrical but unidentifiable accent.

Claire nodded. The hand moved away, and the intruder leaned back.

"Ale- Princess Alessandra?" Claire stuttered, remembering last minute to use her title.

The silhouette framed in the faint moonlight shining through the slit of a window nodded. "How did you know?"

"Lucky guess. Not that I don't appreciate it, but what are you rescuing me from?" Oh my GOD will I ever SLEEP?!

"The Exile, of course. There was rumor of a strange witch in the North that was kidnapped and held hostage by him. I came to rescue you."

And probably use me for your own ends. When Claire had initially written her characters, they had all had personal motives as well—none of them were inherently pure just like her villain wasn't completely corrupt. Claire had an ugly feeling that these were going to be an issue. She hadn't considered her other novels getting involved, which was short-sighted. Again, need more sleep.

"We must leave quickly. My presence won't be unnoticed for long."

"You didn't kill the guards, did you?"

"It was not my intention to but strikes that make one unconscious are not precise." Princess Alessandra grabbed Claire's wrist. "Now come, we must leave! Lady Isobel is waiting for us at the border."

"I'm not—"

"PRINCESS ALESSANDRA! WHAT IN GOD'S NAME ARE YOU DOING HERE?! RELEASE THE WITCH AT ONCE!"

Alessandra pulled a knife from her belt and leapt in front of the bed. "She's coming with me, Exile," she hissed. Vander lifted the sword he was carrying and crouched into a fighting stance.

"The witch is mine." he snarled, whirling the sword. Alessandra tore her cloak off revealing chainmail armor.

"JUST HOLD ON A MINUTE!" Claire shouted. The two jumped and stared at her, eyes aflame with old hatred. Claire retreated a bit.

"Guys, I think we have a lot to talk about. We need to have this discussion where we won't have an audience." The two lowered their weapons, suddenly cognizant of feet running toward Claire's room, the door to which Vander had left ajar. Vander stepped just outside the room, keeping one eye on Alessandra.

"Everything is fine. Please return to your posts." He told the guards.

"But sire—"

"Are you disobeying a direct order?"

"No sire." The guards left, muttering to one another. Vander heard a quietly muttered 'witch' and realized Claire might not be able to stay here much longer. He returned and shut and barred the doors.

"Give me a minute to dress, and we'll talk. Prince Vander, Princess Alessandra's help might be just what we need."