HONEY SEVEN
A/N: Thanks to Sweeet-as-Honey for the lovely reviews. Yes I think Alicia might well keep the ticket incident as something to hold over Sophie's head later unless the situation changes, and this chapter tells us more about Elle's motives.
"Are we there yet?" asked Prince Dylan wearily.
"We'll soon be over the border and on the road to Morcara, Sir. But I want to warn you; it's not a nice place. The Queen's a piece of work so try not to run into her on your travels. I'd head for the Passionara side if I were you. The Prince there is a pain in the butt but he's not evil" replied the coachman.
"No, we want to do all the tourist attractions" argued Dylan, "So it's Morcara first then on to Passionara."
"Well don't say I didn't warn you."
Meanwhile, Prince Caleb was becoming petulant. He'd not yet seen any lady worthy of him; the music bored him, the dancing bored him. He sat sullenly on the ornate throne in the ballroom.
Suddenly the master of ceremonies announced:
"Princess Mysterieuse."
Cal looked up – and gasped. The young woman who had entered was beautiful and graceful. If he had to be pushed into marriage, this girl would do nicely.
He bowed beautifully and held out his hand.
"Who the heck's that?" asked Alicia.
"Goodness knows. Plain little thing, though, and common as muck" sneered Louise.
Sophie was relieved. She'd danced well enough and the Prince seemed to like her. True, he had an unbearable arrogance about him. True, he had only talked of himself during the dancing. But he was Prince Caleb, after all, and she was lucky to be there with him.
A fantasy ballet was performed, during which Sophie was entranced and Cal was indifferent. After kissing the Prima Ballerina and shaking hands with her dancing partner, Cal demanded another waltz. A waltz during which he managed to steer Sophie outside.
"I'd like you to see my rose gardens" he smiled.
"Could I get my wrap? I'm quite cold, Highness."
"Ah, you'll soon be warm, dear, don't worry about that!"
Over on the road to Morcara, trouble struck. The coach was accosted by a gang of bandits. Princess Robyn gave a little cry of terror.
"It's all right, Robyn" soothed Prince Dylan.
Lofty looked in at the window.
"Could you and the young lady hand over your valuables, please?" he said as if he were asking for a drink in his local tavern.
"This ring's my mother's" Robyn said bravely, "And I won't part with it."
She tensed, expecting a sword at her throat. Lofty just shrugged.
"You got anything, Sir?"
"May I ask what you're going to do with them?"
"We are going to exchange them for money and then leave it anonymously outside the schoolhouse in Morcara, because Queen Constance won't give a penny towards its upkeep."
Dylan was taken aback by this. The man looked sincere… and he was handsome.
Dylan handed over his second-best ring and some coins from his purse.
"Any more?" asked Lofty hopefully.
"Don't get greedy" Dylan snapped.
"You, Sir." Lofty was addressing the coachman, "How much do you earn a week?"
"Two Morcaran crowns if I'm lucky."
"Oh dear. Well, in that case you can have these for the inconvenience."
He passed a handful of coins back to the coachman.
"I'll not take any more from you…"
Lofty switched his gaze from the coachman to Dylan.
"But, I'll give you something."
Robyn was terrified that Lofty meant he'd stab Dylan, but he leaned in at the coach window and kissed him slowly and tenderly.
Dylan sat stunned, then recollected himself.
"Oh, just get on your way, vermin!" he bawled.
Lofty made a mock bow and the whole gang rode away.
"Well that's a new one. Good-mannered gay bandits. I've seen it all now!" gasped the coachman.
But for the rest of the evening, Prince Dylan could not forget the kiss. Neither, for that matter, could Lofty.
Back in Passionara, on a bench in the rose garden, there was more kissing as Caleb announced to the shivering Sophie:
"I'm going to kiss you to see if I like it. It doesn't matter if you don't because I'm the Prince and not you."
He kissed her. Bells should have rung; fireworks should have exploded. But Sophie felt nothing.
Prince Caleb's hand strayed to forbidden territory. Sophie pulled away a little.
"Don't be a baby, dear" Prince Caleb said huffily.
Suddenly they both heard it. On the roof of the little gazebo where they were both sitting:
"I'm here, the Phantom of the Garden."
The colour drained from Prince Caleb's cheeks. Sophie was a little unnerved, then thought:
"I KNOW that voice."
Prince Caleb pulled himself together.
"Let's try again" he whispered, and back came the Desert Disease, also known as Wandering Palms.
"Please don't do that!"
"For goodness sake! Remember I'm going to choose a bride. Cry-babies might be disqualified!"
He knew he didn't mean it; this was the bride he really wanted, the one that almost met all his standards. But she had to learn.
"I'm here, the Phantom of the Palace!"
"That – that thing's on the roof!" wailed Prince Caleb, and screamed for his guards, just as the first strokes of midnight struck. Sophie fled, leaving one of her little glassy slippers behind. Captain Max and the rest of the guards came over.
"There's a P-Phantom on that roof!" screamed Cal.
Captain Max and the guards looked up and saw nothing. But they heard the mocking voice:
"I'm here, the Phantom of the Fountain!"
"Now he's in the fountain! He has to be an evil spirit! He HAS to!" wailed Prince Caleb.
"We'll search the entire Palace and grounds, Highness" said Max.
"Don't leave me here! Get me inside! Please!"
With that, he fell in a dead faint.
It was humble Private Connor Christie who actually picked up Sophie's shoe.
Fortunately Jez the Trickster and his Amazing Band (Jack, Jac and Jacob) were entertaining the guests at that moment. They were singing:
"Caleb is a walking talking, squeaking, squawking living hunk!
Ladies do their best to please him, never tease him, what a hunk.
Those who say he's useless are just morons and their brains are junk.
Caleb is a squeaking, walking talking living hunk!
Take a look at his hair, it's real, all the grey he's just managed to conceal.
Ladies fight to win his heart, but just one tart
Will be his exalted bride!
Caleb is a dancing, walking, prancing, talking living doll.
Ladies do their best to please him, never tease him, what a doll!
Take a look into his eyes and squeeze his thighs – stuff protocol!
Caleb is a dancing, walking talking living doll!"
Suddenly there was a fanfare, during which Sir Charles Fairhead went over to Jez the Trickster and his band to explain just why they wouldn't be paid for their part in the entertainment.
"And think yourself lucky you're not being arrested for that song!" he added.
"Not to worry" Jac whispered, "Daddy will give us a couple of coins to tide us over."
Then Prince Cal, who had recovered nicely from his faint, strode in holding up the little glass shoe. All the ladies hugged each other in excitement, except Alicia and Louise who thumped each other instead.
"My good friends, it seems that my future bride was forced to flee from the Palace by an evil spirit who is now conquered, thanks to my courage and tenacity! However, she did leave one little clue… this shoe. So tomorrow Big Mac and two of my guards will call at every house in Passionara. Every lady will be invited to try on the shoe. Whoever it fits will have the joyful gift of being my bride!"
Gasps and squeals of excitement came from the crowd.
"I still say she was dead common, whoever she was" whispered Alicia.
"Just suppose if one of us fits that shoe!" gloated Louise.
" Now, you're sure you won't back out?" Elle asked Ethan severely.
"No… if she still chooses Prince Cal, I'll do what I have to."
"Good, because the Trainee and I are off again" Elle told him, "And we could be gone some time."
She grabbed Honey's collar. Honey, who had just been about to enjoy the treats she'd brought home from the buffet, wailed in frustration.
"You can have them for breakfast; they'll keep" Elle told her crossly.
And Ethan steeled himself for Sophie's return.