Prologue
It was a scene of which few had dared to hope for, for a very long time. The Queen watched with a smile on her face, her heart swelling at the sight before her.
They seemed almost childlike, despite the hardships they had faced together. Neither seemed very 'royal' at the moment, both of them up to their knees in water, laughing as they splashed each other. Goodness knows how they had ended up wading around the pond of the Summer Palace garden, but neither of them seemed to care, and nor did the Queen.
She watched her son and his lover as they charged about the water, laughing and teasing. The battle seemed so far away now, despite the changes it had wrought on the two men before her.
Princes both, one of the Southern, summer realms, the other from the Northern, winter vales. Looking upon them now, one would not be sure which was which.
Neither seemed to care much, too absorbed in their own world of sunlight and warmth and pre-marital bliss.
Who would have thought it would end like this, that fateful night many years ago? Certainly one did. But then, she rarely speaks anyway.
Chapter I
Amidst the Colours of Caruselle
"Mother! Mother! Did you see that? Did you?!"
"See what, dear?"
The young Prince leaned towards her in his chair conspiratorially and whispered "The Grand Duke just picked his nose… and wiped it on Lady Gothel!"
The Queen rolled her eyes in good nature. "Are you sure, Jack? You didn't make that up?"
The Prince gave her a mollified look. "No I did not!" he burst, his face a little red.
"You did not what?" Asked the King, glancing towards his son with a raised brow. The Queen chuckled, leaning in her throne and pushing her blonde hair behind her shoulder to say "Our son is making up terrible stories about the guests. It seems he's bored with his birthday party already. Should we send him to bed, dear?"
"I'm not bored!" Jack butted in hastily. "It's true! And to be honest Lady Gothel deserved it – you know what she got me for my birthday? Bird feed!"
The King chortled. "That's terrible, Jack. Whatever did you do?"
The Prince crossed his arms and scowled. "I said 'thank you', of course."
The Queen beamed. "That's my boy."
When she went back to watching their guests, the King leaned towards his son and muttered "Is that all you did, Jack?"
A small smile crept onto Jack's face. "I may or may not have hidden the birdfeed in her hat. She may make some feathered friends tomorrow."
The King chuckled. "It's a good thing you are still cute, son."
The Prince gave his father an affronted look. "I'm not cute, Father. I'm twelve!"
"My King!"
The three royals looked up to see the Captain of the guard, Aster Bunnymund, enter the room with a smile on his face. "Trader Johann has returned from his trip, and has come to wish the Prince a good birthday."
"BUNNY!" Jack bellowed as he jumped off his throne and ran pell-mell into the Captain's arms, nearly sending Aster toppling over as he did.
"Oof! Careful, bitesize! And don't call me Bunny." The captain said with a frown. Jack pouted up at him, and sighing, Aster relented. "Fine. Don't call me that in front of your guests."
Jack sighed and folded his arms. "Fine. You're no fun."
Aster winked at him. "On the job at the moment, Jackie. We can play later." He then ruffled the prince's hair, for good measure. The prince bapped his hand away irritably.
"I'm not a little kid anymore, Aster."
"'Course not, bitesize."
The King and Queen, by this point, had made their way across the room to where the Captain and their son stood. They politely nodded at their guests as they passed, arms interlinked, the red of the King's cloaks sweeping behind them, whilst the Queen's dress announced their coming like a turquoise firework to the eye. Reaching her son, the Queen pressed her hands to her hips and gave Jack an admonishing look. "That wasn't particularly princely, was it?" She shook her head, the beads and feathers woven into her hair swaying as she did. "I thought you were grown up now?"
Jack shuffled his feet, his eyes lowered to the floor. "I am grown up. I just haven't seen Aster for ages…"
The King and Queen shared a look with Aster, each smiling quietly. The Captain himself was quite young, and pretty new to his rank. He was a very established warrior, a traveller from a far off land, and made a distinct impression upon people very easily. Despite only just turning twenty, he was not to be meddled with.
As the King had said, it was a good thing Jack was cute, as it turned out Jack liked to meddle with Aster as a hobby. Frequently.
The Queen turned to Aster, raising a brow. "You said Johann was here?"
The captain nodded, grinning. "Yup. He's brought a whole load of goodies from the North, too."
"The North!" Jack exclaimed, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Where did he go this time? The forgotten city of Arendelle? The forests of BenHul? The Archipelago Mountains?"
"Calm down, son." The King smiled. "I'm sure if asked, Johann will be happy to tell you." The Queen made a face at her husband, before rolling her eyes. Oh yes, Johann was usually quite happy to share his travelling tales…and share…and share…
"Well, then, best get back to your throne, your highness, so he can be announced." Aster grinned, nudging Jack on the arm. Jack was off like a shot, hurrying across the throne room like a mini whirlwind, plonking himself upon the small throne between the King and Queen's, calling for his parents to hurry up.
The King snorted at his son's antics, offering his wife his arm as they followed.
Jack had always been besotted with the North, though his parents never understood why. It was rough, dangerous wild land, where there was no particular ruling power – only numerous tribes scattered about the wilderness in a higgledy-piggledy mess. The earth was near barren, the food tough and scarce. The people that lived in such a place were tough and stubborn creatures, hardened by their environment. But the lawlessness of the place created great concern for the Southerners, especially the King and Queen of Caruselle.
The last time someone attempted to create a civilisation in the North, it had resulted in numerous attacks from jealous tribesmen, leaving the city decimated. Only the ruins of Arendelle remained.
Maybe the prince's intrigue stemmed from his father. After all, King Nicolas was a northerner himself – one of the few survivors of Arendelle. The King had not been born royal, he was – in fact – the son of a carpenter. But he had inadvertently saved a young princess – who had been on her way to a gathering in Arendelle – and the rest was history. Many had argued that Nicolas should merely be the Queen's consort, not named King, but Thiana would have none of it. Her husband was her equal. They would rule together.
You can imagine how well that went down with the nobility.
But North had always entranced his son with bedtime tales of the north – how the Dragon of the Moon Ragor-Luen watches for those pure of heart, that she can snatch them from their fates and make them her own. In the forests, trolls and dwarves lumber about, mining from the earth the richest jewels of the land.
But above all, Jack relished the tales of the Archipelago Mountains, where great warriors ride on the backs of beasts, and battle for their tribe's glory and freedom with fire and steel.
They knew Jack dreamed of going there one day. And that too was worrisome.
"Your Excellences, if I may? Introducing Johann – intrepid trader of the Greater Lands."
Jack positively clapped for joy as Johann swooped into the room, followed by his crewmates, each laden with chests and barrels of something new and exciting.
"Thanking your Majesties for having us!" Johann laughed jovially. "And where is my favourite customer?"
The Queen had to hold out her arm to stop Jack from jumping from his seat. Instead, the boy asked all too excitably "Is it true, Johann? Have you just come from the North?"
"Ah yes, the North. Filled with many dear friends. Perhaps your highness would be interested in a new bow, carved from the whispering willows themselves! Or perhaps a new shield, made with the lightest and most excellent steel dragons can forge?"
"Dragons?!" Jack gasped, eyes widening.
Johann chuckled. "Yes, dragons boy! How else would my friends in the North become such master craftsmen of the flame and forge?"
The Queen patted her son's knee softly, reminding him to keep a little decorum. Then she turned to Johann herself. "Where else have your journeys taken you, Johann? Might you have anything for the rest of us?" she asked with a wry wink at her son, who blushed and tried to sink into his seat.
"As a matter of fact, Your Majesty, I do!" he replied with a grin, gesturing at a couple of crewmates laden with heavy trunks behind him. Opening the crates, the Queen gasped as spools of silk of bright and beautiful, jewel like colours pooled onto the parquet floor. "Woven silks from the Eastern Kingdom of Corona. I learnt of their experimenting with different flowers for new dyes, your grace, and positively flew there on your behalf."
"They are lovely, Johann." The Queen cooed. "If I may?" she began to get up from her throne, eyes laid upon the silks.
"Of course. By all means, your Majesty."
Jack whined pitifully, hands pinned beneath his bottom as he stayed upon his throne. Half the room chuckled at the Prince's antics, and with a roll of her eyes, the Queen offered her hand to the boy in invitation. "Care to join me, Jack?"
It seemed no matter how the Queen tried not to spoil her son, Jack still managed to make off with a new bow and matching, leather quiver, a hand-carved ivory dragon, embellished in sweeping strokes of gold paint, and finally – as the boy moved to return to his throne – Johann stopped him and pulled from his satchel one last gift.
"For your birthday, my Prince. This is a rare and ingenious gift, carved by hands as royal as your own." With great care, Johann placed a small spyglass, simple in design, into Jack's hands. Jack frowned at it, puzzled.
"This was made by royalty?" he asked.
Johann stroked his beard. "It was made by the son of a Northern Chieftain. Clever lad – will make a fine leader one day."
Still bemused, Jack wandered back to his throne, holding the spyglass carefully along with the rest of his haul. The King clapped his hands together, bidding the minstrels to start playing.
"Thank you, Johann, for such fine trade and gifts!" he called jovially. "Please, join us for the rest of tonight's festivities!"
"It would be my honour, My King." Johann bowed, dismissing his men – all of which quickly bee-lined to where wooden chalices and flagons of wine were available.
The party continued – Jack danced with both his mother and father, and giggled as he watched Captain Aster ask one of the young ladies of court to a dance, only to be politely declined. It was funny to watch Aster pouting. Girls were icky anyway.
Suddenly, the herald had returned, pounding his staff upon the floor before calling "Your Majesties, Lords and Ladies – a second trader from the North seeks audience, in tribute to the Prince's birthday."
The King and Queen shared a look. Johann was one thing, he was a known friend and a trusted trader. This new stranger was something different. That and they were from the North.
Unfortunately, it was that one particular tidbit that Jack had picked up on, and was now practically clinging to like a limpet. "The North? Can we please see him, Father? Mother? Maybe he's been to Don Valiante? He may have sapphires, Mother, you know you love sapphires!"
Queen Thiana bit her lip before nodding slowly. "Alright. Let this trader and his crew in."
The doors opened, and a tall, hulking man stepped through the ornate archway and into the throne room. He wasn't pleasant to look at – his black, straggling hair and beard were matted and tangled, his bright, piercing eyes had a redness to them that suggested a life with too much liquor. He hunched like a bear, his broad, powerful back somehow disproportionate to his stumpy legs. The trader smiled. His teeth were either yellowed or missing.
"Many thanks, your Majesties, for seeing me at such late announcement."
The King nodded, his eyes no longer jovial. Now he was watching. Waiting. Jack, for one, had decided that now was not an appropriate time to jump out of his chair.
"We are intrigued, trader, at what new commerce you may have to offer." The Queen replied, a placating smile fixed on her lips.
The curled grin on the trader's face did nothing to assure Jack. This guy seemed like nothing but bad news. "New commerce, eh? My 'stock' - as we'd call it – is a required taste. Never-the-less, it 'as a lot of use, and therefore a lot of value." The man smiled slyly. "Would y'ladyship like a look?"
The Queen ignored the slight at her title, and simply nodded. "If you would be so kind." She replied calmly.
The doors opened again, and Jack fought the instinct to cry out in horror. But then, the guests of his party made the gasps of shock for him.
Men and women, chained with collars and manacles, and dressed in little more than rags, trudged into the hall. The party guests pressed along the walls of the throne room, clearing the centre and allowing for the poor creatures as they filed in. Jack's eyes widened with horror as more and more poured into the room. Finally they stopped, every single pair of eyes glued to the floor. Their number seemed endless, but it was likely there were about sixty in total. Every one beaten and bruised. Every one broken and used.
Jack felt sick. Looking at his parents, he knew he wasn't alone.
The King stood up, eyes raging. "What is the meaning of this, trader? You know slavery and slave trade was abolished in the south years ago! How dare you come to this castle and-"
"If I may, your Grace?" the trader interrupted, still smiling. "I was on my ways to The Blacke Fort. Special order, y'see? Lord Pitchiner ordered thirty young souls for him to do whatever he will with 'em. I brought a few spare, just in case he was interested. But then I hear it's young Prince Jackie's birthday, and I thought to meself; Why not give the Prince a present? A little someone to keep him company, if you know what I mean?"
The trader winked, and the Queen's eyes narrowed. "Exactly how old do you think my son is?"
The trader shrugged. "Hardly matters, does it? A bed warmer is a bed warmer."
The Queen began to shake with anger. "How can you be so callous? My son is twelve, you would do well to offer your business with better tact." She bit frostily.
The trader raised a brow, shrugging. "Suit yourselves. So I take it you aren't interested then?"
"Absolutely!" snarled the King, but the Queen raised her hand.
"We never said we weren't interested." The Queen replied coolly, giving her husband a significant look. Slowly, the King's clenched fists unfurled, and he sank back to his throne nodding.
"I was hasty." He muttered. "Proceed."
Jack stared at his parent in disbelief. They were actually going to buy people?! People that should be free to make their own way? Their own decisions? He was about to speak out against it all, when he felt a hand rest on his shoulder. He looked up, and there was Aster, moving his head in tiny shakes. He knelt down by Jack's side and whispered in his ear. Jack's eyes widened, but finally he nodded, promising to stay quiet. In his hands, he rolled the spyglass absently, his fingers in a constant state of fidget.
He watched as the trader bragged about his stock, gesturing at each bruised human being like they were prize cattle. Jack frowned slightly as his Father moved from the thrones and started slowly – but surely – choosing from the collection of people before him.
"Only thirty!" the trader constantly reminded. "I still have an order to fill!"
Contrary to the trader's advice, King Nicolas picked out the old and sick first, then started to choose in a broader sense. As his father meandered around the stock of slaves, something caught Jack's eye.
There, stood at the very side of the slaves, as if not to garner attention from the King, was a small boy. Easily the youngest there, though he still looked older than Jack. Unlike the rest, he was clothed in a grubby, green tunic, and his manacle cuffs weren't rusted iron, but simple bronze. And unlike the rest, his eyes weren't on the floor. They were on Jack. Or, at least, Jack's hands.
Jack paused, glancing down to see what the boy was staring at. The only things in his lap were his gifts from Johann, the spyglass still clasped in his hands, but now stilled.
He raised his eyes again to look at the boy, but now the slave boy was pointedly looking at the ground. Jack frowned. No-one that young should be a slave.
He was snapped out of his thoughts by the trader clapping his hands. "And that makes thirty, Milord. Pleasure to do business with you – will you be payin' in gold or interested in a trade?"
The King rose from his throne, and as if from the shadows one of the servants hurried to his side, carrying a small chest. "Thirty gold pieces should settle the cost, yes?" the King asked haughtily. The trader rubbed his hands.
"Absolutely, your Grace. Most generous of you." The servant moved slowly, handing the trader his gold before darting away again. "I supposed we best be going then! The rest of you – move it!"
The slaves began to trudge away, and something jarred in Jack as the boy turned to join them. Ignoring Aster's firm hand on his shoulder, Jack jumped to his feet and cried out. "Wait!"
The entire room seemed to pause, shocked to see the Prince acting so. But Jack schooled his face to one of sheer determination, meeting the dirty great trader square in the eye. "I would still like to choose my present."
The trader blinked, then laughed hoarsely. "Is thirty slaves not enough for you, boy?"
Jack shrugged. "They were my Father's choice, not mine. Where is my birthday gift of goodwill?" Jack fluttered his eyes innocently. "After all, I will be ruler one day. It's probably wise to stay in my good books."
The trader stared at the Prince, mouth agape, before it snapped closed and his eyes narrowed fiercely at Jack, a fixed smile on his lips. "By all means then, little Prince. Choose yourself a birthday present, on the house."
"I've already chosen." Jack replied, head held high. He could sense his parents staring at him from either side, but for now he could not bring himself to care. Not when the boy in green was finally looking at him. Not the floor. Not his hands. But him.
"The boy on the far left. In green. I would like him."
The boy's eyes nearly bugged out. His face paled, and suddenly the freckles that danced across his nose and cheeks could be seen all the more starkly.
Meanwhile, the trader's face had tightened, his smile even more strained than before. "You have a good eye, lad. But I'm sorry to say that one is not for sale."
The shiver that shuddered down the slave-boy's spine was barely noticeable, he'd tried hiding it so well. But still all three royals noticed. And – without even a word, or a glance of acknowledgement – all three knew the trader would not be leaving with that boy tonight.
"I didn't ask if he was for sale." Jack replied, his voice unwavering. The Queen's lips fought not to smile with pride. "I said I wanted him as my present. I've no intention of buying him."
The slaver lost any pretence of niceties at that. "You think that a high and mighty title will make me hand me own slave to you, free of charge, boy? That one was difficult to get a hold of, and he serves as payment of a debt his Da owes me."
"Then consider this." The Queen spoke, standing from her throne in one swift movement. Her silken robes swirled around her, the colour of peacock feathers, and in one swift movement, she gently plucked from her hair one of the precious feathers that had been woven into it.
The room fell utterly silent. You could hear a pin drop. The Queen's eyes were resolute as she held the feather up for the slaver to inspect.
"This is a blue phoenix feather. The phoenix is our symbol, as Caruselle will always and forever rise from its ashes. The blue phoenix gave to my family ten feathers, saying each generation will have but one wish, a wish that will be granted to reflect the heart of the wisher. This is the magic of the South."
Jack stared at the feather, awestruck. The feathers had been braided into his mother's hair for as long as he could remember, although there were pictures in the palace hallways of his Grandnana wearing a necklace with identical feathers adorning it. He always thought it pretty jewellery. But now, looking back… there had been three feathers on his nana's necklace. And only two feathers hung in his mother's hair. Well… one now.
The slaver stepped forward, staring at the feather. "One wish?" he whispered.
The Queen nodded, her eyes burning. "Yes. I shall give my wish to you. You could have anything your black little heart desires… in exchange for the boy."
The man glanced at the Queen, then the blue feather that seemed to shimmer and glow faintly between her fingers. Then his eyes flicked over to where the slave boy stood. Jack did the same, and noticed that the boy was now looking straight at his feet, making eye contact with no-one, the blush on his face travelling past his cheeks down to his shoulders. He wasn't even bothering to hide his trembling anymore.
The slaver sneered at the boy, then turned to the Queen, plucking the feather from her hand. "Done. Though he's not worth all that, you should know. Not worth a phoenix feather." He laughed with a wicked gleam in his eye.
The Queen didn't blink. She simply replied "I believe a life worth more than you can ever own on this plain, tradesman. A soul is priceless, as you should know, coming from the North."
Jack didn't know what his mother meant by that, but it seemed every Northerner in the room did. Even Johann flinched.
The trader just glowered at her, before muttering "Whatever you say, your Majesty. My true clientele await me, I'm afraid. So we'll be on our way." And with that, he strolled over to where the boy stood, and after a moment of rummaging in his pockets, he thrust a bronze key at the boy's feet. Without another word, he grabbed the closest slave still in chains, and took the rest of the horde outside, beyond the King or Queen's reach.
The Queen turned to one of the servants, saying "Release them all. Give them food and proper clothing. I will speak with them all in the morning."
The former slaves looked shell-shocked, as if they could not believe their ears. They stared with wide eyes as they were unshackled and led away towards the kitchens.
Jack watched as the young boy stooped to pick up the key at his feet, releasing his own cuffs and rubbing his wrists. His eyes met Jack's, and they lit up. Jack smiled and waved, wistfully wishing he could go to the boy. Instead, he stayed on his throne. The boy bowed his head, and mouthed something to Jack before he was whisked away by the Caruselle servants. Jack felt his belly warm a little. He still felt a little light-headed from standing up to the slaver, and the look in the boy's eyes just made him feel even dizzier.
Once the slaves were gone, the room burst into a cacophony of noise. "My Queen, your feather!"
"The boy was not worth it! Did you see him?"
"A runt of a child! And a Northerner of all things!"
"A practically useless little beast if I did see one!"
That drew Jack out of his haze.
"STOP!" Jack yelled. "It was my choice to save him, and I will gladly give up my right to the feathers for him." He gave his guests a stern look. "No-one is useless. Who are you to judge a person by the life handed to them, just because they aren't as lucky as you?"
The room fell silent. Jack could practically hear his heart trying to jump out of his chest. He heard movement behind him, and then felt a hand rest on his shoulder.
"My son has turned twelve today, and yet has shown the compassion and wisdom of a grown man. I could be no prouder than I am today." Jack looked up as his Father's voice rumbled across the room, his own chest swelling at the King's words.
"Tonight's festivities have ended quite abruptly." The King continued. "I bid you all get home safely, and remember the good of tonight before the bad." He raised his hand to the room, saying solemnly "May the moon watch over you."
Jack nodded, murmuring back the reply "May she light your soul's way."
Slowly, the guests filtered out of the palace, petering away into the night to their grand, stately homes. Jack faced his parents. "Now that I'm twelve, do I get a later bed time?"
The Queen laughed softly. "It is quite late enough, Jack. And all this excitement has tired me out too."
"Me three." The King added, scooping his son into his arms, and beginning to head towards the sleeping wing. Jack immediately started squirming, yelling "I don't need picking up anymore! Let me down! Let me dowwn!"
Chuckling, the King set Jack down upon the floor, promptly cuing Jack to run madly up the stair towards his room. Yes, he was tired. But he knew he couldn't sleep. His heart was thumping and his veins were buzzing with a high. Not just from his birthday or the party. Not just from standing up to that bully of a trader. No – as Jack took the stairs two at a time, his hands still clutching his new spyglass, he knew – it was the boy. With his green eyes and freckled skin and crooked smile. It was the look of happiness and hope in his eyes, seconds after removing those cuff. Jack bounded into bed, still warmed by the words he could still see being mouthed in his mind:
Thank you.