Hidden Princess Read online

  We get off the horses and bring them to the troughs where they gulp down water. My legs feel stiff after the long ride. I shake them out to loosen them up.

  “Trying to fit in with the natives?” Kiar asks, smirking.

  “Ha, ha, you’re just hilarious.”

  “Yes, I think I am a pretty funny guy.” I nudge him playfully. His big brown eyes and kind heart remind me of Josh so much my heart gives a little squeeze at the thought of him. I push it away, knowing it will drive me crazy. “Sarajane?” Kiar gives me a questioning look.

  “I’m fine, before you ask.”

  I trail behind everyone else, taking in the settlement. The huts are built in a full circle with what looks like bamboo branches that frame the walls and roof. A pipe sticks out of the roof that releases smoke; wooden shutters are open in the huts like windows that let the light in. A large well is right in the middle where wooden buckets lay against it, not in use. It looks like everything is made from the same wood, giving it a magical appeal. The huts are all different sizes, some the size of a room, others as big as a house, and there are two at the beach’s edge that are the size of three houses. Large towers stand on the beach a mile or two apart. They run the full stretch of the beach. I shield my eyes from the sun to take a look at the towers. A man is perched on the top, sitting with his legs crisscrossed. He looks like he’s mediating. A roof covers his head, but there are no walls surrounding him.

  “Sarajane.” The group has moved on, but Kiar has waited for me.

  “Sorry.” I hurry along, catching up with the rest. The people have all stopped what they are doing and are staring at us.

  “This place is amazing,” I say.

  “I agree with you. It is not what I was expecting,” Kiar responds.

  A tall man with old features embraces Mirium like an old friend would. A smile that’s genuine is spread across his face.

  “Musa,” Mirium says fondly while embracing him. This must be the tribe’s leader. Musa is dressed in a long white tunic to his knees and sandals cover his feet. There are tattoos covering both sides of his face. Small circles and lines cover the corner of his eyes. His eyes sweep over our group and pause on me.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  SARAJANE

  Musa’s eyes only linger for a moment before he looks at everyone else. “Greetings, friends of Mirium’s are friends of mine. Your huts have been prepared.” A lady walks beside Musa with a shy smile on her face. They must be related. Her face is designed just like his, except for the dots and lines around the eyes. “This is Ndee and she shall show you to your huts.” Ndee bows, still smiling. Everyone else is watching us as if we’re from another planet. Well, I suppose I am. We break up as we are taken to our huts. I watch as Morrick, Mirium and Musa walk towards one of the large wooden structures farther out.

  Ndee places one arm above the other at chest level and bows.

  “Princess.” She’s practically beaming. I can’t muster up too much enthusiasm towards her, as I am starving and really want a bath and change of clothes. I try to copy her bow. “Ndee.”

  Someone coughs behind me. I turn to Alana. “She only bows to you, Sarajane. Do you want me to stay with you?” I ignore her comment about not to bow to Ndee. “Ndee, this is my personal guard, Alana.” The two ladies acknowledge each other. “And you have the day off.” I give her a smile and follow Ndee into the hut. The walls are covered in a red-brown clay just like plaster, only it isn’t smooth, but it adds character to the charming hut. All the furniture is made of bamboo wood, just like the hut. On the table sits a large pottery bowl that holds lots of fruit. Ndee opens a door I hadn’t noticed. I follow her into the room. The bedroom holds a bed and a large wooden tub that has taps running to it.

  “Is that running water?” I ask Ndee wit excitement.

  “Yes, princess, and we have hot water,” she says proudly. I turn the tap on, not sure what to expect, and water pours into the tub. I dip my finger under the water. It’s warm. Ndee joins me and looks a little embarrassed. “Sorry, the kilns have only been burning for the last hour. That’s how we heat the water.”

  I hug her with pure joy and start stripping off my clothes as the bath fills up. “No, Ndee, this is heaven.” She scurries across the room and closes the wooden shutters as I climb into the bath. She lights several candles around the room.

  “Candles?”

  She smiles. “We make our own, princess. Maybe tomorrow you would like to see how they are made?” I lie back in the water; every part of me relaxes. “That sounds great, Ndee.” As I soak, Ndee moves around the room, picking up my clothes, and then she leaves. I just lie there enjoying the peace and quiet. When I am wrinkly and the water is nearly cold, I begrudgingly step out and dry myself off with a really fluffy towel. I wrap it around my body and examine my bed. The frame is made of bamboo and the mattress could only be described as a beanbag. A large square one. I let my hand sink into it; it’s really soft.

  “That is animal skin stuffed with feathers,” Ndee says, making me jump.

  “Animal skin?”

  She giggles. “Yes, but it is cleaned and stitched together and stuffed with feathers.” Loads of colored material is draped across her arm. She raises them slightly. “Your clothes, princess.” Two other women enter then, making me wrap my towel tighter around my body. “This is Ola and Dene.” I smile at the two happy women. “They will help get you dressed.” I don’t get to respond. They start evaluating and discussing what color would best suit me. The women giggle as they wrap me in their own custom dress. They decide on a lime green material that they wrap around my body, covering one shoulder and leaving the other bare. They comb my hair out and weave flowers into the cascade of curls. All the ladies study me. My eyes seem unusual to them as they all have brown eyes, and my skin looks pale in comparison to theirs. When I’m complete, Ola and Dene bow and leave, leaving Ndee and me alone.

  “The celebration will be soon, but first Musa requests your company.” Ndee leads me through the settlement. There must be a few hundred people living here. A lot of the women are getting ready for the celebration. The excited chatter sounds everywhere. The tall towers along the beach catch my attention. Once again I glance up; there are still men sitting at the top of them.

  “What are they doing?” I ask Ndee.

  “They are controlling the waves so we don’t get flooded and for the water mill that helps us generate electricity.”

  I look at Ndee in surprise. “Electricity?”

  She gives me a proud smile. “Yes, but it is only used in the main buildings. Follow me.” She continues towards one of the larger wooden structures. “You will see,” she says as she opens the door.

  The inside is very like my own hut, wooden floors, brown plaster on the walls, only on a much bigger scale. The room must be used for meetings as a large table is placed in the center. Its surface is covered in maps. I take a quick peek at the maps as I follow Ndee and can see they are of Saskia. It’s a lot bigger than I initially thought. When we reach the back of the room, large red curtains conceal another area where Musa is. The air in the room is filled with incense. I’m not entirely sure what I smell, but it’s familiar. Musa is seated on a lavish rug on the ground. Material of all bright colors hangs from the ceiling and is pinned to the walls. The centerpiece in the ceiling is a light, electricity. Pottery is scattered around the small room. Musa smiles when I enter. “Princess Sarajane, please sit.” I sit on a vacant rug across from him and Ndee leaves. “Musa, my room is lovely.” I’m not entirely sure how to address him or what to say.

  “I am glad you like it, princess.” Musa is only wearing trousers. Well, they look more like white linen pyjama bottoms. His chest is bare and covered in tattoos and old scars crisscross his chest. There are so many the further I inspect them. “Saskia wasn’t always this peaceful,” Musa says. Then his eyebrows crease. “I hope we will see peace for a long time.” I feel embarrassed I made it so noticeable, staring at his scars.

&
nbsp; “Sorry, I didn’t mean to gawk.”

  He gives a smile. “You were just curious and you have every right to be; this is your history as well.” Guilt wells up inside me. I don’t belong here. I never fought for it. I don’t have as much as a scratch, yet this man destroyed in scars feels as if I have as much right as him.

  “We are having the celebration tonight in honour of our guests, and as part of our tribe, we each receive a tattoo that brands us.” My first thought was my mother would kill me. Then I smile.

  I wasn’t talking to her, anyway. “Do I get to pick?” Musa studies me for a moment. “No, but if you could, what would it be?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve never thought about it before,” I answer honestly. Musa rises, the smell of incense following him as he crosses the small room. The smell washes across my face, making me a little lightheaded. He sits back down with a large bowl half filled with water. “Water is a powerful affinity to behold by anyone and it can show us who we really are.” Musa dips his finger in the center and small circular waves push towards the edge.

  “You can see yourself in a mirror. It is no different from water,” I say. I spent plenty of time looking at my reflection as I sat by the river at home.

  “A mirror shows you as you are seen, yet water can alter and change us.”

  I just nod, clueless about what he’s trying to say. His smile tells me he knows I don’t have a clue. He takes his finger out. “Take a look.” I bend over reluctantly and am not shocked when I see my own face stare back at me. “Really look,” Musa says.

  I study myself, my curly hair woven with flowers, grey eyes, long eyelashes, pink lips, a round chin—the same way I always look. The smell of the incense still lingers around my nose and I have the urge to sneeze but can’t. My reflection grows smaller and I can see my body. I’m wrapped in a white gown, a smile spread on my face as I pick flowers. I look so happy. I bring the flower to my nose and inhale a sharp breath. The smell of roses fills the air. I bend down to examine the flowers more closely and a small pair of white wings emerge from my back. I knock the bowl over, the image now gone, and look at Musa.

  “What are you burning?”

  “Beeswax. What did you see?” Beeswax, that was the smell I couldn’t place. I was hoping he’d say something stronger so I could explain the image away.

  “I had wings. Did I see the future?”

  Musa retrieves a cloth and dabs up the water. “No, you only see yourself.” He meets my eye then. “Your true self. So we now know what your marking will be.”

  I raise both eyebrows. “We do?”

  “Yes, wings. They will be done during the celebration, which you are going to be late for if you don’t hurry.” I rise on shaky legs and look down at Musa’s scarred chest.

  “Are all the men dead that hurt you?”

  Musa looks surprised “Yes, they are.”

  That makes me feel better. “Good.” I leave through the large meeting room. All the maps are gone. I hadn’t heard anyone come in. Ndee is waiting for me just outside. “Food is ready,” she says the moment she sees me.

  “Good, I’m starving.”

  She leads me back to the heart of the settlement where a bonfire is ablaze, lighting the night sky. Drums are the choice of music and the beating is almost hypnotic. Tribe members have gathered around the fire, eating and chatting, while some dance around the flames. Several children stare and giggle as Ndee and I pass by. I don’t mind all the smiling faces. It eases my heavy heart a bit. Everyone greets me with “princess” and bows as I pass through. It’s overwhelming. I feel like royalty. Then my conscience slips in. You’re no princess. But I banish the thoughts and try to enjoy tonight. My breath catches when I see Alana. “Wow,” I say.

  She blushes. “Really?”

  I grab her hand. “Really.” They have pinned all her hair including her fringe up off her face, letting everyone see it.

  “You are just like a princess now,” Alana says in a warm voice. Ndee ushers us on through the crowd as children weave in and out with excitement. Laughter fills the air and then I can’t hear anything as my eyes fall upon Tristan, who is looking at me from across the fire. His brown hair is loose, falling to his shoulders. He wears no top, just plain black trousers. His bare chest is muscular and the sight of it sends emotions through me that I wasn’t aware I felt for him. I swallow, my fingers fluttering to my chest, and he looks away and then the noise comes rushing back, along with Alana’s voice.

  “Sarajane, are you all right?”

  I look at her, feeling embarrassed. “Yeah, sorry.”

  “You looked far away.” She tries to hide a growing grin. I give her a dirty look and close in on the bonfire where food is being handed out. I fill a plate of meat mixed with herbs and salad and sit down beside the bonfire. Alana joins me and nudges my shoulder.

  “I shouldn’t tease” I nudge her back.

  “No, I was caught red-handed.” Her face becomes serious. “You really like him.”

  It feels weird talking like this with Alana, but it feels really good at the same time. It makes me feel almost normal. Like we could be hanging out.

  “Yes and no. I like him, but I spend most of the time hating him.” I shake my head. “Oh, I don’t know. But what about you and Kiar?” I give Alana a grin.

  Her face brightens at his name and then she looks sad. “I can’t do anything about it. It is not my choice.”

  “Whose choice is it? Kiar’s?”

  She laughs bitterly. “That would be simple, but no, the king and queen choose who we will be matched with.”

  This sounds so stupid. “How would they know who you love?”

  Alana gives me a don’t be silly look. “They choose who they think would work well together and some people find love in it.” My heart breaks for Alana and Kiar. This sounds barbaric.

  “So the king and queen match everyone in Saskia, including here?”

  “No. Saskia is broken up into four sections and the king and queen control two. Aquaterra and Hummus are ruled by different people with different rules.”

  My heart lifts slightly. “Then move to one of them with Kiar.”

  Alana shakes her head. “Oh, Sarajane, it is not that simple. You have to swear allegiance to your new ruler. We would never see Saskia again. We can’t cross each other’s lands. Too many wars started by one settlement crossing into the other. And anyway, even if I agreed, Kiar is loyal to Saskia and the king.” Alana becomes silent, running her finger around her plate. Her words about Kiar make me think Alana isn’t from Saskia.

  “Are you loyal to Saskia?” Fear runs across her face and she looks over her shoulder and then back to me. “Of course I am.” But I can see she isn’t. I leave it alone. Neve and Kiar make their way over to us and I smile at them both. “Fun party?” I say to Neve.

  “I lit the bonfire.”

  Kiar sits down beside Alana. “Neve, the whole place would be on fire if they let you near it,” Kiar jokes. Before they can start bantering, I jump up and grab Neve’s hand, surprising him. “Dance with me?” Before he can answer, I drag him off, leaving Kiar and Alana behind.

  “I never noticed how much you wanted me before,” Neve says playfully.

  “You wish, Neve.” He twirls me around repeatedly until I’m almost sick. When he stops, I have to lean on him; everything is spinning too fast.

  “Feeling okay, princess?”

  I look up at his moving, grinning face. “Shut up, Neve, and just stay still.” He laughs loudly. “I’m not moving.”

  Everything starts to settle and I can see Tristan making his way towards Neve and me and he doesn’t look happy.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  SARAJANE

  My stomach twists as he takes giant steps towards us. “Neve,” he barks, causing Neve to let me go and stand straight.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You are on duty. This is not a resting period.”

  “Sorry, sir,” Neve says and walks away while givi
ng me an apologetic look.

  “What is your problem? He was only dancing,” I say to Tristan, my temper rising.

  He comes up to me, making me take a step back. He doesn’t come closer. “They are here for your safety and your father would be angry if anything happened to you.”

  “What about you, would you care?” I ask, not quite sure where the courage came from. It knocks Tristan off for a moment. He takes a step closer and this time I don’t move. My legs are like jelly and I figure if I move, they’ll give way so I stand on locked legs.

  “Yes, I would care.” My heart is pounding at his words. All I can do is stare at him as he stares back at me. His eyes flicker to the left and back to me and his face becomes hard again.

  “Your father would demote me if you died.” He gives a quick bowing gesture. “Be careful, princess.” And he walks away. I stand there fuming and then to make it worse, my mother appears beside me. Tristan must have seen her approach.

  “Sarajane, I’m sorry. You can’t keep avoiding me.” Her eyes beg me to listen. I don’t want to, but now that we are face to face my throat tightens.

  “You just stood there.” The words are low, but she hears me, and all these things I expect her to say aren’t the words that leave her lips now. “He is my King.”

  “He hit me,” I remind her before she says something that will do more damage.

  “That man is your father and your king, Sarajane.” I throw my hands in the air with frustration, knowing this is a pointless conversation. “John is my father, and he is not my king.” I bite between my teeth. My mother flinches at my words.

  “I know you’re hurting right now, but you need to be more careful with your words.” She reaches out to touch my face, her words gentler now and I step away from her touch. It’s not that simple for me, I feel like I’m standing in front of a stranger. She’s not the same mother who went missing six months ago. That mother would laugh, and bake with me and Jessica. She would yell from the kitchen for us to remove our boots and not destroy her washed floors. She was the mother who took us to the beach, watched movies on rainy nights. Not this woman who takes the role of some girl who’s blinded by love.