Chapter 1: Old Faces, New Faces
Amelia gazed out the window and watched the flecks of early morning sun that danced across distant mountain tops. She had forgotten how brilliant the landscape could be.
Amelia's old bedroom had recently been redecorated and given to King Roland's stepdaughter, but Baileywick had been kind enough to escort Amelia to one of the guest suites. The chamber was a large, round room with white walls and yellow trimming. It was very well furnished, containing a lovely canopy bed, mahogany wardrobe, dressing table, changing screen, and a little writing desk set before a series of large windows. All the furnishings matched the color scheme of the room: white with yellow details.
She sat at the desk, resting her head upon the smooth, wood surface. Her eyes felt heavy with exhaustion and she cast a longing look at the unused nightgown that was still draped across her bed where Baileywick had left it the night before. Upon discovering the wandering princess, the castle steward had been very attentive and made sure that Amelia was given everything she could possibly need: a room, night clothes, tea and biscuits in case she was hungry. He had even managed to find one of Amelia's old dresses and had it delivered to her room in the morning. Amelia looked down at the gown she now wore. It had once been her favorite: sky blue with gold fabric at her wrists and neckline, and a pattern of roses embroidered across the skirt. After all this time, Baileywick still remembered which had been her favorite dress. The thought brought a smile to Amelia's face.
As happy as she was to be home, Amelia couldn't shake off her overwhelming anxiety. She had searched the palace until sunrise and Byron was nowhere to be seen. Now, the halls would be littered with servants, and she wouldn't be able to search for him without raising suspicion. But the guards had not been alerted and no one was panicking, so she was fairly sure that he hadn't been discovered yet. Amelia hoped that her friend had found a good place to hide, or that he'd fled the castle all together.
But something else was also making Amelia feel anxious. She was afraid to see her brother.
Amelia had spent most of her life in Enchancia. She'd helped to manage castle affairs for her older brother, King Roland II. More than anything, she had been a companion for Elizabeth, Roland's wife and Queen of Enchancia. The two had been great friends. But then Elizabeth became pregnant. It had been a hard pregnancy, and there was little that Amelia could do to comfort her friend. Every day for eight months, Elizabeth grew sicklier. Doctors and magicians alike were called to the palace, but they made no difference; the Queen's health continued to fade. Finally, the much awaited day came, and Elizabeth gave birth to twins. The people of Enchancia rejoiced at the arrival of Prince James and Princess Amber. The queen was still bedridden, but she immediately busied herself with planning a grand ball in honor of her children, as was the custom in Enchancia. When the day of the ball arrived, Elizabeth left her bed for the first time in weeks. She spent the entire day in the nursery with the twins. Then, when evening came, the queen dressed in her finest gown, attended the ball, and danced with her husband. If you had seen her smile, heard the joy in her voice, you would not have imagined that she was still in pain, but the Queen had never recovered. That was the last time Elizabeth left her bed. Within a week, she was gone. The entire kingdom went into mourning, but it was Amelia and Roland who were truly devastated. James and Amber were too young to understand what had happened. In the following years, Amelia did all she could for her brother and made sure that her niece and nephew were always taken care of.
Then, four years ago, Amelia disappeared. She hadn't told anyone where she had gone, hadn't left a note, hadn't even bothered to say goodbye. Amelia knew that she had been selfish. She couldn't push away the thought that she had deserted her family. That ever present guilt was enough to tempt Amelia to run as far as she could and never look back. But Amelia was tired of running.
She was jolted out of her thoughts by a rapping at the door.
"Come in," Amelia responded, sitting up strait and turning to see who it was.
Her muscles froze, her mind went blank and her stomach dropped.
"Amy?" Roland took a hesitant step into the room, and then he seemed to freeze as well.
Terror, absolute terror, coursed through Amelia in that moment. That horrible moment that seemed to last for hours. There was a pain in her chest where her heart was braced for Roland's accusations, anger, and disappointment.
But then he smiled. He smiled and crossed the room in bounds.
Amelia didn't remember rising from her seat at the desk, but all of a sudden, she was standing in her brother's embrace. And she was crying.
Apologies came streaming between the sobs. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I abandoned you all. I'm such a stupid, selfish girl! I'm so sorry…"
And to all of that, Roland just held her and told her, "Everything's alright now."
All of her pent up guilt and fear poured from her, one tear at a time. It was a long while before either of them moved from that spot, but when they did, Amelia saw tears in Roland's eyes as well. Together, they sat on the edge of Amelia's bed and remained silent until the tears had dried.
"I'm sure you have a lot of questions," Amelia began reluctantly. She dreaded the thought of having to explain everything that had happened to her.
"Well, yes," Roland began with a chuckle, "but they can wait."
"Really?" she looked up at him, eyes hopeful.
Roland nodded, "All that matters right now is that you're safe and you're home."
For the first time, Amelia took in the sight of her brother. Roland wore a navy blue waistcoat over a white dress shirt. His dark blonde hair was neatly styled, and a bit longer than she remembered it. What struck her most was his face. He looked perfectly and genuinely happy. Amelia couldn't help embracing her brother once more. "I've missed you," she said giving him an affectionate peck on the check.
"I've missed you too," Roland responded, reflexively rubbing the kiss off like he used to do when they were children.
To this, Amelia laughed lightheartedly and Roland quickly joined in. It had been a long time since she'd been able to laugh like that.
"Now, there are some people who I want to introduce you to," Roland said when the laughter had died down.
"Yes," Amelia agreed, "Baileywick tells me that you remarried."
"And I'm sure you're going to love Miranda and her daughter Sof-" Roland stopped short as a scream rippled through the halls. He recognized the scream. "Sofia!" he exclaimed and started for the door.
"No!" Amelia breathed and raced after her brother. She knew that a scream like that could only mean one thing: someone had found Byron.
Sunlight trickled through the open window and warmed the rosy face of the slumbering princess. Sofia's chestnut brown curls encircled the round of her face and spilled across the purple velvet pillow. You knew that she was having sweet dreams by the little smile that graced her fair complexion. Having lived a humble life as the daughter of a shoe maker, Sofia found it difficult to sleep in the luxurious beds that filled the castle. She much preferred to take a single blanket and pillow and sleep on the window seat of her room. A purple, jeweled amulet hung about her neck: the Amulet of Avalor. This gem, traditionally worn by princesses, could bestow its wearer with unimaginable powers. So far, it had granted Sofia with only one power: the ability to talk to animals.
Curled up next to her was a small, grey rabbit with long, floppy ears. Clover, as he was called, raised his head and yawned. The rabbit would have been happy to sleep all day, but he knew that if he didn't wake Sophia up soon, she would be late for school. Clover placed his front paws on the princess's shoulder and gently shook her awake, "Alright, kid, time to rise and shine."
The rabbit's ears perked up as a low growl seemed to shake the room. He turned and was startled to find a pair of glowing eyes watching him from beneath the purple canopy bed.
"Woah!" Clover yelled and jumped back, landing on the little girl's head.
"Wha-What?" Sophia groggily sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes.
Clover trembled and clung to his perch on top of her head. "There's something under there," he said, pointing to where the eyes had been only seconds before.
When Sophia looked, she saw nothing. "What was it?" she asked, now wide awake and curious.
"I don't know, but I think we should get out of here," Clover took hold of the princess's hair, like a horse's reigns, and tried to steer her towards the door.
Sophia gently removed Clover from her head and placed him back on the window seat. He quickly ducked behind the pillow, peeking his eyes up just enough to see what was happening.
"I want to see what it is," Sophia insisted and walked over to the bed.
"Sofia, no!" Clover whispered.
The princess ducked down and peered into the shadows under the bed. At first, she didn't see anything, but once her eyes adjusted she could almost make out a dark shape. Then the shape shifted, revealing a set of burning, yellow eyes. A scream exploded from Sofia's lips. Terrified, she fell backwards and scrambled back to the window seat. She grabbed Clover and held him close. They were both trembling now.
"Oh please, please don't scream," came a gruff voice, "I won't hurt you."
It took Sofia a moment to recover from the initial fear, but eventually she managed to ask, "Who are you?"
"Wait, you can hear me?" the creature growled.
"Y-yes," Sofia stammered.
"Oh, please don't be afraid. My name is Prince Byron of the kingdom of Elisius." Byron introduced himself and poked his snout out from beneath the bed. He didn't want to show his whole body for fear of frightening the little girl any further. "I promise I don't normally look like this. A witch placed a curse on me. I was told that there were sorcerers here that might be able to turn me back into a prince, so that's why I came here."
Sofia still held on to the rabbit, but no longer was she shaking, "Why are you under my bed?"
"Because I can't risk anyone seeing me," he barked.
"Why?" Sofia leaned forward a bit, growing curious again.
"Because whenever people discover me, they send hunters after me. They always want me dead because I look positively monstrous."
Byron's ears and eyes drooped slightly and he placed a paw over his dark face in anguish. He was a pitiful sight, and Sofia really felt sorry for him. But before she could say anything more, the sound of hurried feet could be heard from the hall.
"Please, just let me hide here until nightfall and then you'll never have to hear from me again," Byron managed to say just before the door burst open. He slid back beneath the bed and remained perfectly silent.
"Sofia!" it was her stepfather, King Roland, who came through the door, followed by a woman who Sofia didn't recognize. She had long, blonde hair that fell in waves to the center of her back. She must have been running because her cheeks were flushed a brilliant shade of red against her cream colored complexion. The woman barely looked at Sofia. Her eyes, which bore the same shade of brown as the king's, were busy searching the whole of the room.
"Are you alright? We heard screaming," Roland went to Sofia and took her hand in his.
Sofia paused for a moment and thought about what Byron had told her. She didn't want him to be hunted, but she wasn't sure if she could trust him either. He looked fierce and sounded angry, but Sofia heard truth in his words. More than anything, her heart believed in him, and Sofia always followed her heart.
"I had a bad dream," she fibbed.
Roland looked relieved. "It's alright," he said, wrapping his arms around her, "You had us worried."
The blonde woman looked relieved as well.
"I'm sorry," Sofia was sorry, both for worrying her stepfather and for lying to him. She hoped she'd done the right thing.
"Oh, Sofia," Roland began, gesturing to the woman, "I'd like to introduce you to your Aunt Amelia. Amy, this is my daughter, Sofia."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Sofia," Amelia dipped down into an elegant curtsy and smiled warmly at the little princess.
Sofia stood, took hold of her blue nightgown, and carefully curtseyed the way she'd been taught to do at school. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Aunt Amy," she returned, delighted, "I've never had an aunt before."
Roland placed a hand on Sofia's shoulder, "And believe me, you couldn't ask for a better one."
Amelia blushed at the compliment. She felt it was not deserved.
"You'll have plenty of time to get to know your aunt later," Roland said, getting back to business, "but right now you need to get ready for school. You don't want to keep the coachman waiting."
Roland and Amelia left and Sofia did as she was told.
"Thank you, Sofia," Byron growled when the coast was clear.
"Sofia, do you realize you just lied to your father," Clover asked. The rabbit was still wary of Byron and so stuck close to Sofia as she went about the room picking out her outfit for the day.
"I know Clover, but I don't want anyone to try to hurt Byron," the princess said, sounding a little unsure.
"You could just try and explain everything to your parents. Once you tell them about the witch's curse, I'm sure they'll understand," Clover reasoned.
"I'm afraid it's not that simple," Byron's nose inched out from beneath the bed again. "I've gone to many other kingdoms seeking help. My traveling companion would always arrange meetings with the royal families to explain my situation, but it didn't matter. Once they caught sight of me, they didn't care if I was a prince or not. They just wanted me gone from their kingdom forever."
"But my family can be trusted. You'll see that they want to help you as much as I do," Sofia said with confidence.
"Sofia, the last kingdom to chase me out was Elisius. My parents, the people who I trusted more than anyone else in the world, hired huntsmen to have me slain. They couldn't believe that their son could transform into a monster like me," Byron's growl broke into a whimper on the last word.
Sofia's heart sank. Such a thing was too awful to think about. She knelt by the bed, wrapped her arms around his mane and hugged his huge head. "I don't think you're a monster," Sofia assured him and another whimper escaped his lips. It was the first non-threatening sound he'd made since his transformation.
Once the children had left for school, King Roland introduced Amelia to his wife, Miranda. Their conversation was brief, mostly because Miranda noticed how tired Amelia looked. The queen kindly recommended that Amelia take some time to rest, and promised that they would converse further at supper. So she followed Miranda's advice and took a much needed nap. She didn't change into a nightgown, didn't use the blankets, and didn't even bother to take off her shoes. She just laid down upon the bed, and fell into a dreamless sleep.
When she awoke, Amelia stared up at the white canopy and just lay there, thinking. She reflected on the events of the morning. It all seemed unreal to her now. Being home was so wonderful that it almost felt like a dream, but the stress and fear she felt for Byron was very real. Amelia decided that she would search for her friend in the oldest parts of the castle. Most of the castle had been rebuilt and remodeled as the years went by, but certain areas had been neglected and as a result were gloomy and damaged and so were not used much anymore. If Byron had made his way there, it would explain how he had managed to escape notice so far. At the very least, she could scout out the deserted areas to see if they would make suitable hiding places for Byron, once he was found.
Her body was reluctant to move from such a comfortable bed, but eventually, Amelia gathered enough will power to heave herself up and onto her feet. Observing herself in the mirror of the dressing table, Amelia smoothed her dress out and brushed her hair. She didn't like to wear her hair styled unless it was for a special occasion, so on most days, she would just brush out her blonde, wavy locks, and then let them do as they pleased.
When she was satisfied with her appearance, Amelia left her room and started down the halls. In the light of day, she could clearly see the rich fabrics draped from the ceiling, make out the pattern of gold leaves upon the walls, and note every decorative statue or vase of flowers. All of this was decorated in shades of purple. As she went, she peaked out every window and into every open door. Yes, she was keeping an eye out for Byron, but she was also just enjoying herself. Everything felt so familiar, and yet things had changed just enough to make the place feel new and exciting. Continuing on, Amelia moved into halls that were more sparsely decorated. Here, the walls were made of stone instead of marble and a draft seemed to continually seep along the floor. The only people who came to this corner of the castle were those seeking the Royal Sorcerer, whose workshop was located in a tower nearby. As Amelia passed the door to the Sorcerer's tower, she heard a faint "puff" sound. Amelia imagined that an exploding feather pillow would have made a similar noise. She moved closer, placed her ear against the door, and listened. She quickly found that this was unnecessary, because the following sound was a series of crashes that could have easily been heard throughout half the castle. Amelia covered her ears against the noise, but through her hands she could hear someone inside the tower cursing.
"Merlin's mushrooms!" came the voice, which Amelia recognized immediately. This voice belonged to Cedric, the son of the old Royal Sorcerer, Goodwin the Great. 'He must have finally taken over his father's position,' she realized.
When Amelia was very young, she loved to sneak away to the sorcerer's tower. Goodwin had always been very fond of her and would gladly put on magic demonstrations for her amusement. But Goodwin was often busy, so Amelia couldn't always count on him to entertain her, so she usually went to the tower to play with (or pester) Cedric, who was older than she and already training to be a sorcerer. Unlike his father, Cedric wasn't very willing to demonstrate his powers. He claimed that the son of a Royal Sorcerer didn't perform magic tricks for stupid little girls. Nonetheless, Amelia was almost guaranteed to see at least one trick with every visit to the tower. Though he'd never admit it, Cedric loved watching Amelia's little face light up as she marveled at his skill. She would watch, enraptured as he mixed potions and practiced new spells. Amelia often tried to help him with his lessons, but Cedric told her that she just got in the way. This wasn't true of course, and he would usually ask for her assistance immediately after stating that she wasn't needed. She continued to visit him until she was ten, when Cedric went away to sorcery school. He had still been gone when Amelia left the kingdom.
Amelia decided that for old time's sake, she would try to enter the workshop without him noticing, like she would do as a child. Luckily, she still remembered where old Goodwin used to hide the key. On either side of the chamber door perched a grinning gargoyle. Amelia turned to the one on her right. She flicked its claw upward and it gave way, revealing a secret compartment that contained a spare key to the sorcerer's workshop.
Amelia peaked her head through the door, and had to clamp a hand over her mouth to keep her from laughing. Somehow, the sorcerer had managed to get a cauldron stuck on his head. He hopped about the room on one leg with both hands busy trying to wrench the pot off. A raven flew after him. Its talons were clutched around the rim of the cauldron and it yanked with every flap of its wings. Neither of their efforts seemed to do any good. Finally, a misstep caused Cedric to slip upon the hem of his robe and fall to the floor, landing on his rear. His raven tumbled to the floor at the foot of the potions cabinet, looking very dizzy.
Amelia doubled over and, unable to keep quiet any longer, burst into laughter, "Ha ha, I can't do it! This is too much!"
"Who dares trespass upon the lair of a Royal Sorcerer?!" Cedric's shout was muffled and he pounded the ground, indignantly. He spoke with a British accent, as did his father before him. His voice sounded frustrated and more than a little embarrassed.
"I'm sorry," Amelia giggled, "Let me help you."
"I don't need your help!" he declared, trying once more to force the cauldron off.
"That's what you always say," Amelia said as she knelt down beside the struggling sorcerer. She gently wrapped her finger around either side of the cauldron and pulled up with one hand, then the other. The raven eyed her suspiciously, but she continued to coax the pot off until it finally separated from the sorcerer's head with a "pop" sound.
With one hand, Amelia supported the cauldron against her hip; the other hand she offered to Cedric. "Are you okay?" she asked.
Cedric looked at the extended hand, and then up at the woman herself. She was beautiful with her smiling eyes and her hair falling messily over her shoulder with loose tendrils tickling her face. However, he was still feeling embarrassed, and so was in no mood to be thankful.
"I'm fine," he snapped and pushed the hand away. He helped himself up, his legs wobbling a bit. The raven flew up and perched on the sorcerer's shoulder. Haughtily, it stared down its beak at Amelia.
"Well, I'm glad to hear it," she responded as she handed the cauldron to him. He yanked it from her grasp and brought it to his work bench. The raven adjusted itself so that it could keep an eye on Amelia while the sorcerer's back was turned.
Cedric had always looked older than he was. Grey streaks ran through his black hair. He also had defined lines beneath his eyes and around his mouth, making him look tired. Amelia also noted his poor posture as he stood there with his shoulders slightly hunched. Besides that, he wore a purple magician's robe and grey, fingerless gloves.
"Now," he said, forcefully setting the cauldron down, "who are you and what do you want?"
"You don't remember me?" Amelia asked, sounding a little disappointed.
"Well forgive me if I don't find you very memorable," Cedric mumbled and then looked at the door, which was still open, "And that door was locked. How did you manage to get in here?"
"You hide the key in the same place that Goodwin the Great once did."
"Oh, an acquaintance of my father? How wonderful," he said sarcastically.
"Well, yes, your father was wonderful, but I preferred to spend time with you," Amelia continued to hint. She wanted the sorcerer to discover her name on his own.
Now Cedric looked perplexed. He examined Amelia's face, and only came to a conclusion when he realized that she shared the same eye color as the king. "Princess Amelia?" he asked. He remembered the young royal who would sneak into the tower and pester him every day. Cedric could scarcely believe that that little brat had turned into the elegant woman who stood before him. "My, how you've… changed," he remarked, a bit awkwardly. The raven cawed at him in disapproval and flew to its perch in the center of the room. Cedric cleared his throat. "Have you come to beg for magic tricks?" he asked, returning to his snarky self.
"Perhaps," Amelia teased. "I bet you don't remember which spell was my favorite."
Cedric crossed his arms and rolled his eyes, "Of course I do."
The princess quickly looked around the room, her eyes landing on a single candle on the far side of the room. She fetched it and placed it on the table before Cedric. "Then show me," Amelia challenged.
Cedric's face bore a thoroughly unamused expression. "Very well," he responded and made sure to heave a reluctant sigh before pulling a wand from the sleeve of his robe. Then he spoke the word "Fira" and quickly flicked his wand to the tip of the candle. A spark hit the wick and grew into a lovely little flame. Now he was ready to perform the real trick.
Cedric's stance widened slightly and he focused on the light of the candle. "Rosaceae Fiarettay!" he declared as he swirled his wand through the fire. Amelia leaned forward so she could watch the flame slowly open until it fully bloomed into a rose. Veins of red and orange flame coursed through the blossom. The heat caused the edges of the petals to sway a bit, but Amelia knew that it would remain in the form of a rose until someone blew the candle out.
"It's as beautiful as I remembered it. You're a wonderful sorcerer, Cedric," Amelia stared into the candle, her eyes glowing in the light of the fiery blossom.
"It's an easy trick. A child could do it." Cedric was not used to getting compliments, so though he liked to speak highly of himself, he would often downplay the kind remarks of others.
"Still, I love it," she turned and smiled up at him, "Thank you."
Cedric could feel his face grow slightly warmer under her gaze and he gulped before speaking again. "Well if that's all you needed, you should really be going. I have a lot of work to do and we wouldn't want you getting in my way."
"Actually, there is something that I need your help with," Amelia began. Her voice sounded suddenly somber, though she still wore a smile.
"Of course there is," Cedric grumbled under his breath. "What do you want?"
"How are you with transformation spells?"
"I am a Royal Sorcerer; of course I am proficient in all forms of spells," he sounded slightly offended, "Why? Do you plan to transform someone into a toad?"
"Something like that."