The Escape of Princess Madeline Read online

  The Escape of Princess Madeline

  Kirstin Pulioff

  THE ESCAPE OF PRINCESS MADELINE

  Book I in the Princess Madeline Series

  Copyright © 2012 Kirstin Pulioff

  Cover Copyright © 2014 Elizabeth Mackey Design

  Edited by Magpie Editing & Quill Pen Editorial Services

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the author, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than which is published. Your purchase allows you one legal copy of this work for your own personal use. You do not have resell or distribution rights without the prior written permission of the author. This book cannot be reproduced, copied in any format, sold, or otherwise transferred from your computer to another through upload, or for a fee.

  Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. All characters, places, businesses, and incidents are from the author’s imagination. Any resemblances to actual places, people, or events is purely coincidental.

  Second Edition- 2015

  Visit the author’s website: www.kirstinpulioff.com

  DEDICATION

  Dedicated with love to my family.

  To Chris, my very own knight in shining armor…

  and Adeline & Tommy, who remind me to dream big!

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  PROLOGUE

  King Theodore jumped from his bed. Beads of sweat slid down his temples as his heart threatened to beat out of his chest. Howling wind forced its way into his chamber, extinguishing the dim candlelight.

  Braving the cool stones of the castle floor, he walked to the windows at the far end of his chamber. A soft tendril of smoke danced above the blown-out candles. Relighting them, he watched the orange flames flicker in the wind.

  Now awake, he leaned over the windowsill, peering into the courtyard below. Small flecks of glittering light reflected off the garden’s fountains. Around it, dark cobblestones curved, disappearing into the growing shadows. Nothing stirred in the darkness.

  Looking past the courtyard, beyond the castle walls toward the eastern mountains, he watched the rolling hills disappear under a wave of fog. He let out a great sigh, wishing memories could fade the same way.

  He wrapped his velvet robe tighter as the wind blew against his face. As his eyes sought clarity from the outside, his mind wandered back to the nightmare that plagued him. Every year on the eve of his children’s birthday, King Theodore relived the same dream.

  The warm summer breeze and the horn’s song greeted him as he stood at the window. A stream of royal visitors and merchants lined the rolling hillsides on their journey to Soron. In anticipation of the summer tournaments and royal births, attendance doubled, bursting the seams of the small kingdom. Peering into the courtyard below, he watched the frenzy with a sad smile. Under colorful banners, people ran back and forth, carrying bundles of fabric, bouquets of wildflowers, and piles of farm produce. The smells of freshly-baked breads and pastries wafted up to him, mixing with the spicy blend of the wizards’ incense.

  A soft tap on the shoulder brought him back to the room.

  “My King,” the wizard Elias whispered. “There’s nothing more we can do for her. The queen has passed beyond the grasping hands of our magic.” King Theodore’s heart dropped. The room filled with sage and sandalwood spun as he looked at the group of wizards surrounding the bed. Stumbling forward, he dropped to his knees, cradling Eleanor’s pale hand in his. With a heave, he wept, burying his tear-stained face in his hands.

  “We knew this day was coming, my lord,” Elias said, sharing a look of concern with the other wizards. “The mirror warned that a sacrifice was necessary to protect the kingdom. She died for you. Giving her life to bring you these wonderful children and save…” Elias stopped as his eyes connected with the king’s.

  Tears froze on King Theodore’s face. His jaw clenched at the wizard’s words. “She did this for me?” the king bellowed, heat rising in his cheeks. “She sacrificed herself and left me alone for my benefit? How dare you! This was your failure, not her sacrifice!”

  King Theodore stood and looked the older wizard in the eyes. His face matched the red of his velvet robe. “Hear my words, great wizard. This will not go unpunished.”

  Waving his arms abruptly, he ushered them out, shutting the door in haste behind them. He approached the queen. His body shook as new tears rolled down his cheeks. He wept until the golden light from the windows faded, his fingers lingering on Eleanor’s silk gown.

  The morning sun rose over the horizon, streaking the countryside with an orange and red wave. King Theodore didn’t notice this beauty—or any beauty. Sitting calmly in his throne, he watched as the room filled with visitors. His face, like stone, refused to give way, noticing but not reacting to the growing crowd, or their sympathies.

  With weary eyes and a tight jaw, he looked over the room. Faces painted with anticipation, fear, and curiosity stared back at him. No one had expected him this morning. He barked an order to a nearby steward, breaking the silence.

  The steward’s eyes bulged as King Theodore delivered his message. With a curt nod of approval, the steward lifted his horn to his lips, announcing the royal decree.

  The horn echoed off the stained glass windows crowning the throne room. The gathered crowd quieted, looking at the steward expectantly. The knights stood straight against the side wall, and the wizards folded their arms inside their robes.

  “By royal decree,” the steward’s voice croaked, “the services of the wizards are no longer needed or approved of in this kingdom.” The uproar of the room overpowered his weak voice. The other wizards leaned in toward their leader, Elias, with questioning looks. Elias refused to break eye contact with the king.

  With another nod, the king encouraged the steward to continue. A small smile broke the severity of the king’s face as he heard his orders proclaimed. “By reason of treason, you are to be punished with death.” The steward hung his head with the last words.

  A shocked gasp ran through the hall. With a wave of his arm, the king directed the knights into position around the unarmed men.

  Elias tightened his lips and kneeled before the throne. “My lord, please reconsider these actions. It is not our fault. You must know that.”

  Every head turned to the king.

  King Theodore stood, amplifying his authority. “I thought the proclamation was simple to understand. You said it yourself, you knew of the tragedy before it happened.” Taking slow steps toward Elias, he continued. “You saw this coming—the death of my wife, your queen—and you did nothing. With all your power and foresight, you did nothing to stop this atrocity. That alone is punishable by death.”

  The king hesitated at the depth of grief i
n Elias’s eyes. “However, you are my beloved’s kinsmen, and so I shall save you. Exile is generous. You’re to leave by day’s end. Be warned, if you so much as enter the kingdom or whisper its name, your protection will be gone, and I will not stop my men from killing you.”

  King Theodore stormed out amidst a confused uproar of questions.

  The next sound King Theodore heard pulled at his heart. Outside the royal nursery, his hands stayed on the steel handle.

  The nurse opened the door, cradling a baby in each arm. “Your Majesty,” she cried, exasperated. “The children, they cry for you.”

  “No,” he answered, looking down at the woman, “they cry for their mother.”

  The wind shrieked through the window, blowing out the candles once more. King Theodore let the darkness hide his tears.

  “My Eleanor, sixteen years have passed, and the children and I still grieve for you as if it were yesterday,” King Theodore whispered into the night.

  CHAPTER ONE

  “Father, this is beautiful!” Madeline squealed. A thrill ran through her as she felt the smooth bumps of the pearls and traced the golden embroidery. “I have to try this on!” she yelled, running into the other room.

  Looking down at the dress, a wave of wonder rolled over her. Her father’s gifts, although generous, never surprised her. There had been a pony for her fifth birthday, but ‘Princess’ had only lasted a few months. After tossing Madeline and breaking her arm, ‘Princess’ was also tossed. After that, gifts of books, embroidery, and music became normal.

  This year was different. This dress was different. Effortlessly, the green silk gown slipped up and over her head. She smiled at her image in the mirror. Never before had she looked so beautiful. Clinging to her new curves, the dress fit perfectly. Above the decorated bodice, her long, dark brown hair shimmered against the pale green silk. The gown was a shade lighter than her eyes and highlighted their beauty and depth. A smile filled her face as she marveled at the woman staring back at her.

  Remembering her father in the other room, she pried her eyes away from her reflection and peeked around the corner. Sitting in her oversized plush chair, he looked out of place. His dark crimson robe clashed with the soft pastels and golden hues of the room. Entangled in a pile of floral pillows, soft dolls, and half-finished embroidery projects, King Theodore kept his head low, twisting his fingers. Tears welled up as she recognized a rare moment of nervousness.

  He looked up as she twirled around the corner. “How does it fit?” he asked eagerly, a smile stretched across his face.

  “Oh, Father, it’s wonderful!” she exclaimed, spinning into his arms.

  “My princess,” he said, “you look beautiful.”

  Madeline stepped back and twirled into a curtsey, showing the full effect of the gown. “Do you like it?” she asked.

  “Darling, I love it, and I love you. Happy birthday. You’ll capture everyone’s eyes and hearts this evening at the ball.” He squeezed her hands and smiled. Madeline’s heart soared at the pride twinkling in his eyes.

  She had noticed the frenzied stewards running in and out of the grand hall with food, decorations, fresh flowers, and music the past week, but hadn’t given them a second thought. Decorated in the same fashion for years, the ball—and every other event—remained predictable.

  Royal balls captured the hearts of everyone in Soron, everyone but Madeline. The years of duty, hiding behind poise and manners, wore on her. As she looked at her new gown and felt the smooth fabric over her skin, she hoped this year might be different. New visions played in her mind.

  “I hardly think anyone will pay me too much attention,” she said.

  Her father gave her a mischievous smile and a wink. “Of course they will. This is more than our annual summer ball. Tonight, the ball is in your honor, for your betrothal.”

  Princess Madeline’s mouth dropped open. The playful smile on her father’s face contradicted every emotion running through her.

  “What?” she asked in a whisper, hoping she had heard wrong. She sat down and clutched a floral pillow to her stomach. Anger and confusion boiled within. Her head shook with disbelief. “It can’t be time for that already.”

  Her father raised his eyebrows, surprised at her reaction. “It’s your sixteenth birthday, my dear. It’s time, and furthermore, it’s your duty.”

  She threw the pillow at her father and bit her lower lip at his scowl. “I’m not ready to be married. What about Braden instead? He’ll happily do his duty.” She refused to meet his eyes.

  “Young lady, do not scoff at the importance of duty. This is not about you.”

  “Not about me? You’re talking about my future, my marriage!”

  He tightened his jaw and handed her back her pillow. “I am talking about the future of Soron, and peace within the territories. It’s our duty to continue our traditions, at whatever cost. We provide the structure, routines, and leadership for the entire realm. That comes with expectations for all of us.” He gave her a pointed look. “Now, I don’t want to hear any more pouting.”

  “I won’t marry them,” she mumbled.

  “Yes, daughter, you will. All these men come from royal backgrounds, and marrying you is a high honor. You’re of marrying age and will carry out your duties. That is final,” he said. His face darkened as he shut the door behind him.

  Princess Madeline bowed over in her chair, her face in her hands. Feelings of betrayal settled in her as she looked down at the beautiful gown. A tear slid down her cheek, darkening the fabric as it soaked into the golden threads.

  Her insides twisted with anger and anguish as her dreams of adventure evaporated. In times like this, she couldn’t help but wonder if things would have been different if her mother were still alive.

  Trapped under the unrelenting rules of her father, at times she felt more like a damsel in distress than a princess. She always thought there would be more time. More time to dream, to explore, and to be free from rules and responsibilities.

  The sun shone through the window, sparkling off the golden embroidery and drying the tear drops. The noise from the courtyard below brought her to the windowsill. Leaning over, she watched the people run from one side of the courtyard to the other. Farmers with bundles, musicians, kids holding wooden swords, women in their flowing gowns, all strolled cheerfully below. Her face grew hotter by the minute—from the sun and from jealousy. The carefree laughter, birds singing, music playing. It sounded dull to her. Nothing brightened her shadow of disappointment.

  “How can I make him understand?” she asked, leaning against the stone window. The warm breeze blew against her, brushing her hair off her shoulders and bringing a new sound. Madeline squinted, concentrating on the high-pitched giggle, and smiled.

  “That’s it,” she declared, running out the door. “Sophia can help me.”

  Madeline and Sophia had been best friends since they were little. Playing in the nursery, riding ponies, sharing secret handshakes and hideouts, they had been inseparable. They didn’t even need to talk—sometimes a quick glance or gesture was all it took to drive the other to laughter or tears. Though in the past few years, as the differences in their royal ranks became more apparent and new priorities emerged, a gap had formed. At the core, they were still best friends, but currently they only shared one thing—Madeline’s brother.

  She darted down the stairs and out the door, apologizing as she bumped into an elderly steward. Stacks of books flew out of his arms, landing with a thud on the stone floor. His annoyance didn’t stop her from scurrying off behind the busy line of attendants.

  Gray corridors intertwined and curved. She ran past the empty library and slowed by the kitchen, taking in the lingering smell of rosemary and ham. Her path to the courtyard stalled in the common room that overflowed with visiting royalty. Constant chatter filled the room as knights, lords, and duchesses conversed over the portraits and tapestries. Housing one of the largest collections of historical art, the walls of Soron cam
e alive with their history, triumphs, and legends. Slowing her pace, she nodded to her favorite duchess before scurrying outside.

  Bursting into the courtyard, Princess Madeline smiled at the commotion. Despite her earlier feelings, the merriment was contagious. Music surrounded her as she twisted her way through the crowd. She pressed against the farmers and merchants, careful to lift the hem of her gown. Opposition to her father’s plan didn’t mean risking her beautiful new dress. As the crowd cleared, she saw her friend.

  Sitting on the edge of the fountain, underneath the marble archway, Sophia’s red hair sparkled in the sunlight. Her familiar laugh rose above the others.

  Madeline stopped as a new figure popped into view. She groaned as her brother leaned in for a kiss.

  She felt heat rise to her cheeks, and coughed as she moved forward. Trying to be loud and obvious, she stomped across the cobblestones. Braden’s green eyes shot open and he laughed deeply.

  “Madeline,” he said, as if she hadn’t interrupted. “Happy birthday.” He brushed his dark hair back and smoothed the front of his shirt.

  “Happy birthday,” she mumbled back, feeling awkward at her intrusion.

  “Oh, Princess Madeline,” Sophia said. “You surprised us.”

  “It looks like I did,” she mumbled.

  Sophia joined in with a giggle, batting her eyes at Braden.

  “You’re lucky it was me. You know what father would say,” she scolded.

  “Father would say what he always does. Braden,” he mimicked in a deep voice, “Good job.”

  Sophia burst into laughter. Madeline just stared at them. “And yet he wants me to get married. It looks more like this ball should be for you.”

  “Madeline, relax. It’s just a ball. There’ll be people from all over, people that will help the kingdom. Think of this as your way to prove yourself a good leader.” His smile grated on her. “That’s a very pretty dress.”