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  The Rose Princess and the Queen of the Dark Salt Sea

  By Isabelle Quilty

  Published by Isabelle Quilty and distributed by Smashwords

  Copyright 2020 Isabelle Quilty

  Table of Contents

  CHAPTER ONE: TIDES TWISTED WITH MOONLIGHT

  CHAPTER TWO: THE DARK SALT SEA

  CHAPTER THREE: A LIGHT IN THE DARKNESS

  CHAPTER FOUR: THE MIDNIGHT BEAST

  CHAPTER FIVE: THE WITCH AND HER WOLF

  CHAPTER SIX: TO LOVE A WOLF

  CHAPTER SEVEN: LUNAR CRESTUS

  CHAPTER EIGHT: THE PRINCESS OF THE SEA

  CHAPTER NINE: THE KNIGHT OF OLD

  CHAPTER TEN: HONEY, DARK AND SWEET

  CHAPTER ELEVEN: WHEN THE MOON IS FULLEST

  CHAPTER TWELVE: THE QUEEN OF THE DARK SALT SEA

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN: THE LAVENDER BRACER

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN: THE DARK ROSE

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN: AN IRIS, ALL ALONE IN THE WORLD

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Chapter One: Tides twisted with Moonlight

  The moon hung over High Dawn Palace with a silver, wrinkled smile. The ocean was gentle as her soft waves crashed against the castle walls, careful not to wake the sleeping, tearful princess in its highest tower.

  But on the black pebble beach below, another princess was wide awake, and she did not have the same kindness as the tides of the Dark Salt Sea did.

  "Hanna!"

  The princess in the tower, cheeks damp and pink curls tussled rose from her sleep. That familiar voice called to her from the beach. The same voice that had called to her night after night. When the sun dropped behind the sea, and the silver of the moon washed over the black stones of the beach, her princess would call to her.

  "Dori?" Hanna yawned, wiping away smudges of makeup underneath her eyes. Tears still stained her cheeks. Hanna’s mother's over-protectiveness and harsh words could be more intense than the pink that coloured her hair.

  Tonight just wasn't the night for one of their adventures.

  Dori cocked her head to the left with a sceptical look. "Tired, are we? Come on, we're losing moonlight!" Dori didn't care about the guards, the others in the palace or even the Queen of the Saturn Sky. She was a fool. A brave fool, though. One that Hanna couldn't help but admire. "Yeah, Dori. I am tired. Mum's angry at me. Like, really, angry. She caught me sneaking out the other night. She would lock me in here forever if she even saw you out there. And throw away the key." Hanna sighed, letting her chubby, freckle dotted cheek sink into her propped up hand. No matter how dangerous it was, Hanna already knew Dori wouldn't leave without a fight.

  Dori creased her dark eyebrows into a brief look of concern. Sheepishly, she offered something up.

  "Please Han, I brought you something. Besides, I know a ride on Darkmouse always cheers you up." Beneath her black bangs, there was a glow in those amber eyes. One not unlike the glow of the white rose she held up to Hanna.

  The red in Hanna's cheeks deepened, and a smile spread across her lips. Instead of replying, Hanna swept back into the shadows of her tower. A rose vine grew from the top of the window and down the grey cobblestones of the tower to the black stones below. They shivered and rolled away as a rose the size of a water melon grew rapidly from the pebbles, its petals unfurling. Dori watched her with glee, a smile showing the dimples in her brown cheeks.

  From the centre of the rose, a pink mist rose and from it, Hanna emerged. Red and gold glitter layered her shoulders and cheek bones, adding a new shine to her red curls. ‘Her magic always made her so beautiful,’ Dori thought. It was horribly complex, for those who hadn't a clue when it came to magic. But Hanna was the Rose Faelancer.

  A Faelancer. Just as Dori was the Iris Faelancer. Magic tingled in their fingertips. It coursed through their veins and formed the glitter and sparkles that lined their skin. Flowers and magic were who they were. And of course, daughters of two queens.

  Two queens who had sworn destruction upon one another.

  But they had mischief in their blood. The horses Darkmouse and Lapadaisy waited for them at the edge of the forest that bordered the palace’s outer walls. Like it was a muscle memory, the two girls slipped through the cracks in the wall, past the meadow of crimson sprouts and to their mounts. Both belonged to Dori, but Darkmouse only respected Hanna. She would nip and buck at any other rider, or simply ignore their commands. But the black-pelted filly from the east adored her rose. And together they raced through the Evening Woods like a pair of black and red ribbons. Silver moonlight twirled its fingers through the tree tops, shimmering like ripples of water through Dori’s midnight black hair, right down to the pine needles on the forest floor.

  The pins on her high, black collar winked in the moonlight. The silver emblems that in her kingdom, proclaimed her to be one of the most elite riders, a prodigy at magic. Hanna had no such badges, yet she rode faster, better. She wore a simple and yet elegant dress. A soft red and gold, both silk and fabric, with a hood trimmed with gold and black riding boots. Dori near blended in with the beach with her long coat of black, white and grey. Life was beautiful in the Lunar Kingdoms, but Dori had chosen the black and white simplicity of duty as princess. She prayed that Helsa, her handmaiden and guardian of her chambers would keep her secret, and hold out until dawn.

  A stag with antlers that glowed with moonlight scattered at the thunder of Darkmouse’s and Lapadaisy’s hooves, both fear and respect in its eyes as they swept past. Racing through streams, the hills and twists of the Evening Trail, Hanna was able to forget her mother’s wrath, if only for a little while. The memory of the heat in her eyes and anger in her voice melted away, and all that occupied her mind was the scent of the forest. The High Dawn Palace, the Evening Woods was filled with gentle creatures. Deep in the twisting maze of the forests heart, the ruins of a village and a temple stood beneath the warm shadow of an Elder tree. A tree that had stood since the birth of Sweethearth, standing taller than any palace or castle, its white petals falling like a soft snowfall over the village that sat in its protective shadow. The priestesses that served the Queens of High Dawn would come to this very Elder tree, finding their connection to Sweethearth through the roots of the tree.

  They slowed to a walk as they made their way down the main road of the long-abandoned village, a soft silence forming between them. Dori broke that silence with her notable rasp.

  “Do you remember…how we used to play in these streets?” She asked with a small, ghost of a smile.

  Hanna tightened her grip on Darkmouse’s reigns.

  “In the summer, we’d play in the streams and bring back shells to Mary’s shop in exchange for sweets,” Dori chuckled. They passed the broken sign that had once hung over the sweet shop, once painted a bright red and white, now pale brown.

  Once, the village of Herren would be crowded and filled with travellers bartering their goods from the east and the south. But that was a lifetime ago, and now the princesses were fifteen. The world of childhood was simply the last few wisps of a dream. The two dismounted at the base of the tree, tying the reigns of their steeds to a long, thin root that stuck out from the earth. A plume of steam was rising from an opening in the trunk, where an old friend awaited them both. Hanna fed Darkmouse an oatcake, and looked to that plume with a sigh.

  “What’s your plan here, Anna?”

  Dori took her best friend by the shoulders, a new sense of urgency Hanna had never seen before glowed in those fierce golden eyes. “She’s different. The other priestess, all of them, came from Sweethearth. They predicted the same thing, no matter what. The Lunar Princess and the High Dawn Princess are destined to become sworn enemies no matter what up
on the shadow of adulthood. We still have time, sure, but I can’t be your enemy, Han. I just…can’t. But this Priestess, she’s different. She’s from Earth.” Dori said, whispering that last word. Earth. No royalty from Sweethearth had ever stepped foot in that mysterious realm, and only an exceptional few humans even made their way to Sweethearth, with fewer still making a home here. But this Priestess had lived a long life in a realm that wasn’t hers to begin with, and those loyal to Lunar and High Dawn revered her knowledge.

  The weight of their destiny hung like thick, inescapable fog over them. Like the cold smoke that trapped the Evening Wood during exceptionally freezing winters, the Lunar and High Dawn princess felt that their inevitable fate was slowly creeping up their ankles, knowing it and would one day encase them both until finally the fires of their endless battle would shatter them, leaving them as nothing more than pieces in the snow.

  But when Dori put her palm against Hanna’s cheek, stroking the corner of her mouth with her thumb, she only felt warmth. They knew they could not linger. Moonlight and every minute of this night was precious, if they hoped to find answers to avert their ancestors curse.

  And the Priestess was waiting for them.

  Inside the trunk of the tree, the priestess was boiling a kettle for tea. She wore no robes, hood or medallions of High Dawn, but a knitted wool cloak, a grey scarf to fend off the cool nights air, and a long white dress her granddaughter had knitted her. Despite her ripe age, the Priestess’s hair remained a coal black, with not a single thread of silver or grey. “I wasn’t expecting visitors tonight,” She said with a wizened smile. Her wolf, Cazcos the white, greeted them with a sniff and quick demand to be petted. “However, luckily enough, I always make far too much tea for Cazcos and I. He prefers the sweet stuff, no matter how much I tell him it’ll show in a few years on that furry belly of his!” She cackled like the snap of a whip. Hanna and Dori exchanged a quick glance, then settled themselves on a log bench decorated with questionably sewn blankets, quilts and pillows. Cazcos made himself comfortable, curling up to sleep between them.

  “Um, High Priestess, we want to apologise for showing up out of nowhere tonight, but we’re desperate. I’m…sure you know who we are. Why we’re so desperate.” Dori said, her hand shaking a bit as she petted the wolf incessantly. The Priestess gave them both a cup of tea in intricately painted clay cups, the patterns similar to the ones that had once covered so much of the town. She sat on a log stool and blew on her own clay cup.

  “My name is Eleanor. High Priestess Eleanor, in fact. You know me as the mysterious Priestess still clinging onto the past, maybe someone that holds answers for your era-long predicament. And I know you two as the pesky mongrels that would steal my dreamcatchers and play with Cazcos when he was a pup. How do you two know yourselves?” Eleanor asked before taking a sip of her tea.

  Hanna answered first. “I am the High Dawn Princess, heir to all the High Dawn cities and land in Sweethearth. I am also the Rose Faelancer, one of the seven guardians of the balance and peace. But…there’s only two Faelancers now, after the siege from the Dark Salt Sea.” She began with pride and duty in her voice, but that feeling of defeat weakened those last few words. She ran her finger-tips over the Rose Bracer on her arm, as if it were fragile. On the centre-piece of the bracer, a rose had been crafted out of the same gold that the bracer itself had been forged out of, the metal melted and woven long, long ago with the same magic that flowed in her veins.

  Hanna and Eleanor both looked to Dori at the same time. She bit her lip, and gripped her own bracer. Hers was made of silver, an iris at its centre in full bloom, the petals intricate. A thing of beauty.

  “I’m in love with Hanna.” Dori said, plainly, simply. As if it were something that should ever be spoken aloud. The sound of a clay cup shattering on the ground broke the silence. Hanna’s hands trembled as she stared at the shattered fragments on the dirt floor. Eleanor smiled. Not the kind of happy smile that caused wrinkles, or an awkwardly pained one, but somewhere in-between. Cazcos nestled his head onto Hanna’s thigh, nudging her with a prod of his wet, black nose.

  “It’s…true,” Hanna managed to choke out, pushing back some of her pink curls behind her ear. She even looked to Dori, eyes glistening.

  “You’ve been honest with me, girls.” Eleanor said, putting her cup to the side as she stood. She tended to the countless hanging flower pots hanging by the wall of the hut, taking care to water each the exact correct amount.

  Then, she unhooked four pots and let them smash to the ground. “Now, I believe it’s time for me to be honest with you.” From the dirt and the roots, the Priestess picked up four bags stained from the soil. She tossed them onto a table littered with vials, kettles and knots of garlic. “Sixteen years ago, warriors from the Dark Salt Sea attacked the High Dawn Palace. During the chaos, I broke into the Relics Chamber…and I took four of the Bracers. Your mothers protected the Iris and Rose bracers, but one was lost. The Lavender Bracer now resides in the Queen of the Dark Salt Sea’s domain. Her castle, I presume.” The two princesses stared, wide-eyed at the rebellious Priestess.

  Hanna pinched the bridge of her nose, blinking in an effort to put the pieces of the puzzle together. “Y-you stole the Bracers?” She snapped, darting to the soiled bags that held some of the most powerful artefacts in all of Sweethearth. Before the Rose Faelancer could dive into a tirade about the lost potential for peace and the great crime that the Priestess had committed, Eleanor snapped at her to hush, a sudden shadow crossing over the kind laugh lines and gentle grey eyes, chiselling a face that Dori could truly see as the face of a woman who would do anything for the future of this land.

  “It is my time to be honest, girls. So you would do well to hold your tongue and listen. You are both bound by a curse that neither of you had a hand in making. Your ancestors fought, and from that clash of magic and hatred a curse was born, such that hatred between your bloodlines would be an inescapable shadow. The Faelancers and their magic have protected Sweethearth for eons, yet no generation of Faelancers have been able to break the curse of Lunar and High Dawn. It is my belief that a new era must come about if there is any hope of bringing balance and peace back to our home. For that to occur, those who are neither Lunar nor High Dawn must take up the Bracers. Five Guardians from Earth. But you must retrieve the Lavender Bracer if this plan can go forward,” Eleanor said, pulling out a rucksack from one of the many chests lining the walls. From it, she pulled out a lantern.

  Hanna’s heart raced, the sound of her beating heart drowning out any attempt at talking. Dori felt a cool sense of purpose wash over her, the magic of the Iris tingling at her finger-tips. She took the rucksack filled with the Bracers, as Hanna was given two red shards of ancient power, dangling from a black cord. Each had the same, ancient Fae-rune carved upon them. Dori took in a sharp breath. These were precious, old, and, these runes would be their way home, capable of opening portals to the Earth realm.

  “How do we get to the sunken kingdom in the Dark Salt Sea?” She asked, her voice solid despite the tremor in her throat. She stood, wrapping her black and white cloak closer and lacing up the collar.

  Eleanor gave her a proud smile and a respectful nod, handing her the lantern. “The waves are a dark curtain. Use the lantern to draw it back.”

  Chapter Two: The Dark Salt Sea

  The ride from the ruins to the Dark Shore was one marked with silence. Silence, and memories that played in both of their minds. Of sweet, long summers and racing competitions on near every trail in the Evening Woods, the hours spent floating on these very beaches, the fights and honey-cake treats, to the shells that Hanna collected for Dori. There’d been other friends, of course. But it always seemed nothing could separate the two princesses. And as children, their Mother’s allowed their friendship, with some fragile hope that maybe it could pre-emptively break the curse. But as they grew older, it seemed both Queen’s had abandoned the idea, doing all they could to separate them.

 
; But that had only made them more daring.

  They just needed to delve into one of the most dangerous, darkest part of Sweethearth, retrieve the Bracer and return before dawn broke. Easy, right?

  Hanna looked to Dori, glancing at the rucksack dangling at Lapadaisy’s side. “So, how do we light the lantern?” She asked, patting Darkmouse. Lapadaisy whinnied as Dori pulled out the creaking, rusted lantern. It was an odd thing, made of metal from Earth, but the glass was infused with the magic of Sweethearth. Complicated, old stuff. The kind even Dori hadn’t been taught.

  “Eleanor said it would require the nature of Lunar…Many creatures that serve the night carry magic in them, and would gladly aid us if I asked.” Dori said, scanning the beach. Then, she spotted it. A buck, horns aglow was feasting on the weeds of the grassy knoll. With a low whistle, Dori called to her subject. With ears flicking and slight unease, the buck answered her call, loping over the stones and lowering into a bow. With a shake of the lantern, the buck understood, and like a match struck the lantern with its horns the lantern was suddenly ablaze. Blue flames danced in the lanterns core, both warm and bright. Faerie Fire.

  “I haven’t seen that blue blaze since my early training days,” Hanna murmured. The wind was picking up, and the lantern creaked as it swung. Dori clenched her fist. “Are you ready, Hanna?”

  The Rose Faelancer grinned in reply, and took the lantern for herself. Dori chuckled as her best friend raised the lantern, and in response, the dark tides parted and rose to form a twisting, rippling archway. Moonlight shone through the waters, lighting a pathway down to the city they could just barely see in the distance. Hanna glanced back. “Always,” She said with a wink.