Magic Gone Wrong Read online

to be dressed in my best today.”

  “Of course, your highness.”

  Once Zariah is eating, the maid slips away to find the requested clothes. When Zariah is finished with her meal, she allows the maid to assist her in dressing.

  “Is there an audience today?” Zariah slips her feet into the shoes.

  “Yes, your highness.”

  “Thank you.” Zariah leaves the room and finds her way down to the great hall.

  As always, she finds it full of young women who curtsey as Zariah takes her seat. Next come the rounds of young men bearing treasures and young men seeking favours or her hand. The treasures, Zariah just directs to the treasury. The favours, she grants no matter how outlandish the request. The proposals, she deflects to the young women standing closest to the front. At the end of the audience, after the great hall has emptied, she remains seated on the throne.

  “What game are you playing, dear girl?”

  Zariah glances over at the fairy hovering beside the throne, “What do you mean? I'm not playing anything.”

  The fairy looks irritated, “You're up to something.”

  Zariah shakes her head, “Just because it's taken me some time to settle in here. I thought you'd be happy to see me co-operating.”

  The look of irritation increases, “You ought to refuse all.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you ought.”

  Zariah slowly shakes her head, “I should get to the dining hall for lunch.” She hauls herself up out of the throne. The fairy flutters along beside her as the young woman crosses the empty floor.

  “I will find out what you're up to.”

  “If you really think so.”

  Over the next couple days, Zariah continues to be the model princess the fairy expects, except for granting the young men their favours and deflecting the proposals. Every time she sees the fairy, the half sized woman looks increasingly irritated. Zariah does her best to ignore the escalating threats and insinuations.

  Then Zariah sets plans in motion for all her court to have a picnic out on the far edge of the grounds, right near the wall. The kitchen staff are taxed to their limits to provide enough food and the guards are stretched thin trying to protect everyone and the whole property. While the young men and women eat and mingle and gossip and play, Zariah climbs up onto the wall to sit above them and watch.

  “What is this nonsense?”

  Zariah can see the fairy out of the corner of her eye, but doesn't look at her directly, “What do you mean nonsense? They're having fun.”

  “They aren't paying you, their princess, the slightest attention.”

  “So?” Zariah smiles as she shrugs off the complaint.

  The fairy dives at her, expression livid, “You ungrateful little...”

  Zariah catches one of the fairy's shoulders with one hand. The half sized creature struggles, attempting to scratch and bite. Zariah's other hand latches onto the length of rowan branch, easily removing it from the smaller creature's grip. The fairy is so irrational, she doesn't seem to notice. Once she has a solid grip on the wand, Zariah shoves the fairy back, sending her tumbling through the air. Before the creature can recover, Zariah rolls off the wall to the outside and sprints towards the road.

  “You got it.” Tien appears beside the young woman.

  “Right here,” Zariah hands over the length of rowan, “What now?”

  “Now to see what spells she used.” Tien examines the rowan wand from every angle possible. She also shakes it and taps it on her hand. Finally, she grimaces, “That's what I thought.”

  “Can it be undone?” Zariah watches uncertainly.

  “Oh, it can,” Tien smiles warmly, “And it will be. And I will give you a chance to resolve your original problem in a more constructive fashion.”

  “Okay.” Zariah swallows hard.

  “I'm quite serious,” Tien assures her, “Are you ready?”

  Zariah nods fervently.

  “Here we go.” Tien produces a length of birch branch from thin air and uses it to tap the rowan wand. Sparks and streamers fly from both. Soon a mist begins to rise from the ground to engulf Zariah.

  “Zariah? Are you ready?”

  Zariah blinks, a frown appearing on her face.

  “Are you well?”

  As her vision clears, Zariah can see the young girl who serves as her attendant, “I'm fine... I think.”

  “You're nearly late,” The girl spins Zariah around to look in a full length mirror, “Is this good enough?”

  Zariah's eyes pass over her reflection from head to foot and back. She recognizes the gown and accessories she had worn for the last ball at her family's home. Recalling what Tien had said, she nods to herself.

  “This is just fine. Thank you.”

  “You're welcome,” The girl smiles, “Better go.”

  Zariah nods and picks up her skirts enough to allow her to walk. Leaving her rooms, she finds the brother closest to her in age waiting in the corridor.

  “Father said for me to escort you tonight.” He offers her his arm.

  “Thank you.” Zariah takes it.

  Her brother escorts her down to where the rest of their large family is gathering in a sitting room near the ballroom. As soon as they enter, the king beckons Zariah over.

  “You wished to speak to me?” The man studies his daughter carefully.

  Zariah nods, “It's young Lord Gerch.”

  Her father nods to himself, “A young man much resembling his father, as I recall.”

  “I don't know about that,” Zariah takes a deep breath, “What I do know is I would never marry him, but he's scared off everyone else.”

  Her father nods again, “I will see what I can do.”

  “Thank you, Father.” Zariah bows her head.

  “Wait here.” The king leaves the room.

  Several of those standing around exchange puzzled glances. Zariah returns to the brother serving as her escort. No one asks her for an explanation and she doesn't volunteer one.

  After what feels like a long time, the king returns and offers his arm to the queen. Their children and in-laws fall into line behind them. Then the whole procession leaves the sitting room and goes to the ballroom doors.

  Zariah, her hand on her brother's arm, can't quite hear the page announcing the royal family. However, when the procession begins moving again, she goes along quietly. Inside the ballroom, her brother escorts her to a seat just below the thrones for their parents. Zariah seats herself, careful of her skirts. Her eyes go to those gathered on the floor, but she can't see the troublesome young lord anywhere.

  Through the first half of the ball, Zariah remains seated since no one asks her to dance. No one even ventures close enough to speak to her except for a couple of her older sisters. Every time she ventures to look at her parents, her father's frown is deeper. However, Zariah, recalling how this situation had gone the first time around, is content to remain where she is and watch the dancers. Many of them are excellent and the music the the best which could be hired for the occasion.

  Finally, halfway through the evening, the king has several of the young men present summoned over to the dais. As they assemble, they avoid looking at Zariah. Her eyes are on her parents, waiting to see what her father intends to do.

  “I give a ball for my fifth daughter,” The king's expression is stern, his eyes passing disapproval over the young men facing him, “And she's the only woman left sitting out of the dancing. If any of you wish to remain at court and not be sent back to your families in disgrace, I suggest the situation change and quickly.”

  Several of the young men swallow hard and a few exchange wary or nervous looks.

  “Young Lord Gerch has already been packed off back to his family,” The king's expression doesn't change, “I have no problem with sending every one of you off in the same way.” He makes a motion to dismiss them.

  Still, none of them ventures to look at Zariah. Instead, they mill around the dais, looking unce
rtain and whispering amongst themselves.

  Suddenly there is a commotion at the doors. Everyone in the room looks over, even those dancing, as a gorgeous young man in a beautifully tailored tuxedo enters. His eyes survey the room before landing on Zariah. Then he starts across the floor, heading directly for the dais. The dancing couples part to get out of his way. The whispering young men standing around the dais shuffle off to the side. The young man stops a respectful distance from the throne and bows deeply.

  “Your majesty.”

  The king, unable to completely conceal his surprise, inclines his head in response, “Who might you be?”

  “I am Sir Ethan Jordan of Waybrie, your majesty. I apologize for my tardiness.”

  The king nods, “I thought perhaps you hadn't received your invitation. It's good to see you arrived safely.”

  “Thank you,” Ethan glances at the young woman seated just below the dais, “This is your daughter?”

  “The Princess Zariah, yes.” The king nods.

  Ethan moves to stand beside her seat, “Would your highness care to dance?”

  “Yes.” Zariah accepts the hand up he offers her. Then she takes his arm and accompanies him out onto the floor. As they join the other dancers, she is aware of his eyes on her face.

  “Your highness is the most beautiful woman here.”

  Zariah raises an eyebrow in surprise, “You think so?”

  “I do,” His eyes meet hers, “I only wish I had arrived sooner.”

  Her expression twists wryly.

  After two dances, Ethan escorts her back to her seat, “Would your highness care for something to drink?”

  “Yes, please.” Zariah nods.

  He slips away and quickly returns with a drink for each of them.

  “Thank you.” Zariah accepts the glass and takes a small sip.

  “You're most welcome.” Ethan remains standing beside her chair until both drinks are finished and a servant has taken them away, “Would your highness do me the honour of another dance?”

  “Sure.” Zariah is more than happy to accompany him back onto the floor.

  She spends the rest of the evening in Ethan's company, either dancing or seated and talking. She does notice there is no sign of the other young men, but isn't especially concerned over their fate. She also notices her father looks happier.

  It 's very late when the dancing finally ends and the guests begin to drift away. Ethan pulls Zariah off to one side. His eyes study her until she begins to feel just a little self conscious.

  “I would love to see you again, your highness.” His fingers gently brush aside a strand of hair which has escaped her hair ornaments.

  Zariah nods, “I'd like to see you again too. Will you be here long?”

  “A few days. The ball invitation aside, I do have some business for my father to deal with,” He takes a deep breath, “Are you busy tomorrow evening?”

  “I don't think so.”

  “Would it be possible for you to meet me for dinner?”

  “I'd like that.” Zariah smiles.

  Ethan take her hand in his and brings it to his lips, “Until tomorrow evening then, your highness.” Releasing her hand, he slips away and vanishes into the dissipating guests.

  Zariah glances around, hoping to spot the brother who had escorted her in. Instead, she spots Tien fluttering behind a pillar. The young woman goes over.

  “Thank you.”

  Tien smiles, “You're very welcome.”

  Zariah takes a deep breath, “There won't be any problems... because of what happened?”

  “There won't be,” Tien gently shakes her head, “Come tomorrow, your memory of what should never have been will be gone. This ball is the only one you attended.”

  Zariah nods, “Thank you once again.”

  “Get a good night's sleep.” Tien vanishes with a pop.

  Zariah takes a deep breath and goes looking for her brother. She finds him near the doors, talking to a half familiar young woman who vanishes on seeing Zariah. The young woman studies her brother critically.

  “Someone special?”

  He flushes, “Maybe. Are you ready to go?”

  Zariah nods and accepts the arm he offers. He escorts her up to her rooms and leaves her at the door. She goes inside to find her young attendant waiting to help her out of her ball gown.

  “Did you have a good time?” The girl works efficiently and carefully.

  “I did,” Zariah smiles, “Would you mind drawing me a bath before you leave for the night?”

  “Sure,” The girl nods, “Did you meet anyone special?”

  Zariah considers the question for a moment, “Maybe.”

  The girl raises an eyebrow, “Only maybe?”

  Zariah shrugs, “I'm not sure yet.”

  About the Author

  Alexandra. A. 'Lexa' Cheshire lives in northern British Columbia, Canada. She is a wife and mother who enjoys to read and write fantasy and science fiction. Her blog is at aacheshire.wordpress.com

  Readers are more than welcome to post reviews of this and any other works on goodreads.com or the site from which they purchased this ebook (if permitted).