Precious

Chapter 1

The span of my life can be measured between these walls. Walls that protect Bryre from the wizard. Walls that keep him out, and me, the crown princess Rosabel, very much in.

If my mother and father had their way, I'd have nothing to amuse me save my garden and my sister. They would have me remain here, where I am now, where I am every day, coaxing roses from the ground, never dreaming of leaving the palace.

Never having any dreams at all.

They did not count on Ren.

I twirl a bloodred rose in my hand and wander through the garden maze. It begins behind the palace and leads to a forest of topiary beasts and rosebushes marching all the way to the main gate. It's patrolled by guards, but if I remain between the hulking shadows of the sculpted hedges, they won't see me at all.

But Ren will find me. He always does.

Mama and Papa believe the palace is the one place I'm safe, but they're wrong. They can't watch me all the time. Someday, I will take their place as ruler of Bryre. How can they expect me to properly rule a people I'm not even allowed to see? Their fear of the wizard clouds their vision on this topic.

Fortunately, my own eyes are crystal clear.

I rest on a bench in the shade of a centaur-shaped topiary, and wait for my escape.

Before long, the telltale rustle of Ren running through the maze reaches my ears. I can't help but smile. Soon he sits beside me, out of breath and bright-eyed from delivering messages for my father. His wild brown hair falls around his face.

"A perfect morning to walk to the market, isn't it?" He grins in a lopsided manner that never ceases to pluck my heartstrings.

We keep our eyes and ears open for servants passing by as we stroll through the maze. Papa and Mama know how much I love the gardens, so this never raises suspicion.

But if they heard we were opening a trapdoor in the old fountain nearly swallowed up by the hedges, they would definitely be alarmed.

It was drained of water long ago and now the cherubs play only in dust. No one ventures this deep into the maze but us, and I suspect the gardeners have simply forgotten about it. The fountains in the squares and in the front of the palace gardens are much better maintained.

Cracks mar the edges of the small fountain, but Ren and I know the true secret that lies beneath it. All castles have escape routes. When we were small, Ren, my sister, and I found the hidden passages in the castle and followed them all to their ends. They were musty, and filled with dirt, dust, and secrets. This one leads to an old church in Bryre in one direction, and inside to the pantry and kitchens in the other. It is also one of the few we discovered after those childhood antics, and that Delia does not know exists. If we want to get to the market, the garden entrance to the tunnels is our best route.

Ren tugs at the arm of the highest cherub and it swings down easily. Stone groans as the floor of the fountain lowers and shifts into stairs.

"After you," he says with a bow.

I laugh. We only play at gallantry. Ren never stands on ceremony with me. It's a relief not to have to tiptoe around each other like everyone else in the palace. We creep down the steps into the darkness. I pull a box of matches from my pocket and light the nearest torch, while Ren pushes on the counterlever and the fountain slides back into place. No one will guess where we've gone. No one ever does.

Ren's brown eyes shine devilishly in the half light. "Better hurry," he says, "the good stuff won't stick around all day." With that he runs down the passage. I follow blindly; I know this route by heart. Within minutes we reach the exit and surface in the crypt of the old church, filled with shadowed catacombs and the bones of the dead.