Daughter of the Shadow Prince Chapter 4
This is a chapter I wanted to share. It is posted on my Substack site, https://substack.com/home/post/p-200858625 If you would like me to provide a synopsis please let me know. Not only was the writing exciting but creating an Image of the characters in scene was incredible. Here is the picture and the chapter. Comments on writing style are appreciated. Please come by my Substack site for more of this story. https://substack.com/@crownandcandlestudio
Chapter 4
Gaining comfort from her quilt, from the essence of Amma still folded into its familiar weight, Celine noticed another lump in the soft folds. Her hand closed around something small and solid she could not immediately name. She stilled, afraid to hope, and then drew it free.
With disbelief, Celine gasped, knowing at last Amma truly had forgotten nothing. Caelys, Celine’s beloved doll and friend, lay nestled in the quilt's hollow, as though she had simply been waiting for Celine to find her. Her black button eyes caught the sunlight. Strands of Celine’s own hair, meticulously sewn in place, spilled loose and glossy over the limp shoulders. Caelys’ purple dress was magically wrinkle free with a white lace neckline.
Celine’s gaze moved to the small feet covered by black shoes. Touching them, she remembered all the times she stood Caelys against a supporting wall or piece of furniture co Celine could read to her out loud. For only a moment the little girl smiled at the memory until she remembered. There was never going to be another such memory.
Blinking away threatening tears, Celine lifted Caelys from the quilt with both hands and held her against her chest, pretending it was the doll’s breathing she heard instead of her own. Warmth spread over her. Amma had been right. She was not alone. So overcome was she that she barely felt her heart listening to the hum, suspecting nothing until the knock sounded on the wood door.
“Caelys, did you hear?” When the doll remained silent, Celine closed her eyes, concentrating on the hums’s tone. Standing, she approached the door. With each step she grew less afraid for the hum was peaceful.
“Safe,”it told her. “Believe.”
Long, careful seconds turned into minutes until there was another knock. Celine jumped at the thud. Would dangerous strangers knock before barging in to kill her? She did not believe so.
“Celine, are you there?” Kind empathy spoke from outside in the cold.
“I am Maris, wife to your father, Kellan. Your grandmother reached out to us. She urged us to come. Nothing would do but Kellan must come right away. We have brought our son, Caspian.” Silence. Celine’s shock froze her where she was until a little boy’s voice called a little louder.
“I have a name for sisters and friends to call me,” Caspian offered. “If you open the door, I will tell you.”
Celine stared at the door, heart hammering against her chest. Her unknown father’s wife. Maybe her brother? She had not thought about having a family that already existed in her father’s life. Amma had spoken of her father quietly over the years, describing a man with warmth beneath his reserve, someone whose loyalty ran bone-deep. As if someone were moving for her, the little girl threw open the wood door, staring at the sight of a woman and her son standing before her. To Celine, the little boy appeared slightly cautious, but not towards her. His simple smile was warm. As for Maris…Celine stared.
Maris possessed the exact shade of Amma’s eyes, a host of emotions standing within their orbs. She was so beautiful; her expression inviting, her stance on alert. Seconds seemed like minutes until Celine accepted this lady was not Amma, nor could she ever be.
Maris inspected Celine in turn, but the child was not discomfited. There was no venom in her eyes as there had been with her own mother, Cerise. Celine didn’t know what she felt at seeing her father’s wife. She could not see how vulnerable she was, a tiny waif with unkept hair, dirty face and tears sliding down her already streaked cheeks.
“Mother, she is crying,” Caspian observed. Pulling the boy close, Maris kissed his forehead.
“Indeed, my son.” Without a word, Maris held out her arms for Celine’s comfort. When the little girl stayed rooted to the spot just inside the doorway, Maris knelt in front of her, Cas beside his mother. Still Celine could not move. Softly, with no sudden movements, Maris gathered the bewildered child into her arms, exclaiming her compassion.
“Oh,” Maris crooned. “Oh, Sweeting.” The damn broke. Celine sobbed onto Maris’ shoulder, her whole body shaking as her hands clutched Maris’ wool coat. Maris allowed the child to lie her head against her shoulder as she cried, rubbing Celine’s back. Caelys was crushed between woman and child. Feeling her, Celine wondered if she and her best friend might be safe.
Maris held her. Celine expected to be pushed away, as her own mother would have done. But she remembered in a vanishing instant what Dominus said about mothers and daughters. Calming, Celine stepped back after Maris used her cloak to wipe the child’s eyes and dry her face. As they parted, Celine’s eyes fell on Cas who now wore a welcoming expression, putting his sister at ease
The boy’s age surprised Celine. He was not that much younger than she. Being a boy, she expected him to be rough and tumble like the boys she saw in town. When their eyes met, he straightened and took the lead because he was accustomed to being the eldest child at home.
“I am Caspian,” he offered. His voice caught on the last syllable, a roughness he was clearly not expecting, and color rose in his neck. He pressed on regardless. “Cas. Only Mother calls me Caspian when I do something wrong.” He paused, and she could see him choosing his next words with care. “Your father is my father. So you are, if you wished for it, you are my sister. My half-sister.” He stopped.”
Celine cocked her head, waiting while the hum reached towards the little boy. His honest stance told her he was to be trusted. In return, she knew her smile was unsure, her voice a little wobbly, but she allowed herself to show care for a little brother she had never met. Their hands met. Cas gave her a kiss on the cheek, then blushed. Celine giggled, unable to do anything but respond in kind.
“Caspian. Welcome. I thank-you and Lady Maris for coming.” Instantly tension turned to acceptance in the boy. He grinned.
“We rode hard. I have never ridden so much,” he said, rubbing his butt with a grin, hurrying on before Celine could speak. “Shall I tell you what my family and friends call me? It is better than Caspian. Only Mother uses that name, mostly if I am in trouble.” Maris allowed a soft laugh. All three walked further into the hut; the door shut behind them.
“Yes, please.” She sat on the settee with Caelys held close. Maris joined her, letting Cas sit between her and Celine. Cas stood up at once, wiggling with impatience. Maris smiled with indulgence.
“I am called Cas. Caspian means adventure, noble and regal. Father is a prince, so my name is good for me. Does Celine have a meaning? Do you know?” Celine, exhausted, pulled her quilt over her, allowing Dominus’ love to enfold her while she thought.
“Amma, my grandmother, called me Little Moon. She told me my name had links to the moon and the heavens. With her candor, Celine did not realize she had just opened a door for Maris to ask further questions.
“Celine, are you hungry? Have you eaten? You appear as if you have not. If you do not partake of sustenance, you will faint.” Celine shook her head. Miserably, she answered.
“I cannot. Not without Amma.” Standing, Maris went to the cupboard, opening it. After perusing the contents, she took out 2 tin cups and a small plate of biscuits with a cloth napkin over them. After pouring water from a jug on the windowsill of the hut, she came back to set the vanilla colored biscuits on the small table next to the settee. She handed the mugs to the children as Celine looked at the lady in confusion.
“May we eat with you, Celine? Cas will share his water with me as there are only two cups. We have not eaten either.“ As she hesitated, Cas approached her.
“You would make Father happy. There is nothing more he wants than to meet you. He is curious if you will like us. I think you will.” Maris laughed, Cas with her. Celine managed a wan smile before giving a brief nod. In silence they ate, Cas with gusto, Maris with ladylike manners and Celine nibbling, which was better than nothing Maris determined. As they finished, the lady drank from her cup before leaning forward to let her eyes meet Celine’s in concern.
“Celine, you are here alone. Where is your amma? Can you tell me where she is?”
The hut went silent.
Celine looked down at Caelys in her lap. Gently, Maris took the little girl’s hands in hers, squeezing them in reassurance. Celine wasn’t sure if her voice would allow her to speak.
“Sweetheart, it may help. You are crying. Is that because of your amma?” Nodding, Celine let it all come out at once in two breathless sentences.
“The Sentinels killed Amma. She is dead.”
Cas made a sound beside his sister, small and involuntary, as if in shock. Maris made no sound at all. She went still in a different way than before, appalled, holding in her horror at what she heard.
“The murderer’s name is Voss,” Celine spat with grief. She kept her eyes fixed on Caelys, on the doll’s small, steady face. “Warden-Captain Voss. He came with five soldiers at his back.”
Her voice faltered. She tightened her arms around herself and Caelys before blurting out the rest in a damning confession. “My mother brought the warden and sentinels to take Amma. I don’t know why. I wish I did.” Caspian and Maris scarcely breathed.
“Amma would not submit to the Sentinels,” Celine reported, lifting her chin with pride. “She would not let them take me. We were in the library, our library, not theirs. He killed her with his sword, but she only died after she gave him her contempt. Mother should never have let them in.” Celine closed her eyes. Moving in seconds, Maris sat next to Celine, pulling the stiffening body into her arms, hugging her until Celine finally allowed herself to be consoled. After a few minutes, Maris sat back, stroking Celine’s snarled hair away from her face, and lifted her chin to look at her. Cas slipped his hand into Celine’s. Celine barely felt him as Maris leaned over to kiss her forehead, to which the child almost pulled away but stopped. Between the stepmother and the little girl, the hum gave them a connection Celine felt. Maris must be a good lady because Celine was liking her.
“I am so sorry, child. Lady Mira told us how much she loved you. She will never stop being your amma.” In resignation or numbness, Celine nodded
Maris knew Celine could not go further. Such a violent scene had certainly taken a toll on the brave child. She spoke, Celine still in her lap.
“Let us end this. Later we can talk about your amma. You do not have to push yourself. We do not expect you to. When it is not so hard, you will tell us of the good times you had with Amma.” Celine looked up, feeling duty arguing with what felt like putting off what had to be done sometime. Maris decided for her.
“Did you know your amma and my mother were friends? She was exactly how you described. She was a lady of courage, determined one day the Sentinels would no longer attack nobles possessing the knack, just because they were afraid of it,” she said at last.
“I knew her from the time I was close to your age. She was…” Maris’ voice caught, steadied. “Lady Mira was like having a second mother. I have not seen her since I was a girl, but she has left something precious behind for our family to cherish.”
Not making the connection, Celine’s grey-green eyes narrowed. Cas giggled, garnering impatient attention. The boy moved as if he walked on air, standing to bow to Celine before letting her in on the secret his mother was leading to.
“She means you, Sister,” he confirmed. Celine was aghast. Never had she heard words so kind directed at her. Shaking her head, she protested such a reality.
“Me? But you do not know me. Only Amma ever understood me. She may not be here, but I know she will not leave me. That is enough.” Maris leaned down, placing a light kiss on the child’s cheek. Cas rolled his eyes as if Celine were being silly.
“You will have many more people to love you, Child,” she told her. “If your grandmother loved you, then we know you will be a blessing from Dominius.” Celine said nothing. Cas paced coming back to stand before her and his mother.
“Father will not ignore such treachery from the Sentinels,” Cas growled, sounding like the man he adored. His voice came out rough, scraped thin. “He will not leave it unanswered. He never does.”
“No,” Maris said softly. “He never does. Cas, there is kindling and wood by the fireplace. Will you bring the fire back to life for us?”
“But Father will be here soon. I cannot hear the battle anymore.” Still, he went to do her bidding, for he was the man in hut. As he worked, Celine spoke again of Amma and love her grandmother had surrounded her with.
“Amma put Caelys here. She thought of everything. The harp on its stool, the book on the pillow, food in the cupboard. She knew what was coming, and she prepared all of it for me, even so.”
“Yes,” Maris said. “She would have. That was entirely who she was.” Cas worked to bring flames back to the fireplace with wood and kindling and smoldering embers. Maris gazed down at Celine, speaking words she hoped the child would want to hear.
“There are others at Aegis Keep who are waiting for you, besides Cas.” She met Celine’s eyes and held them, giving her time to be ready.
“Rowena, Ro, we call her. She answers to nothing else. Ro is seven years old. From the time she was able to dream, she wanted a big sister.”
“Not a big brother,” Cas pretended to grumble in a good natured voice. Maris smiled, continuing her story as Celine rested once more on the settee holding Caelys close. The ghost of warmth moved through her, though whether it was from the quilt covering her or Marise, she did not know.
“Ro will have formed very strong opinions about you already, before ever laying eyes on you. She will need correcting on some of them.”
“She has decided which chamber you should have,” Cas added leaving behind flames licking the wood and sending out a bit of smoke and heat.
“And Isabel, Issa, is five.” Maris’s voice softened further. “She watches everything and says very little until she has understood it fully. She will not press you or crowd you. Your little sister will just be there as she is for the family. It is an admirable trait in one so young.“ Maris’ pride in Issa lingered till she finished.
"Finally, there is Farren, who is three. He has not many words yet, but he laughs — at everything, at nothing, at whatever he should not be laughing at. He will love you from the first moment simply because you are new, and to Farren everything new is a gift.”
Three more.
Two sisters and a brother were at the end of a road she could not yet picture, in a house she had never seen. She turned the knowledge over slowly, feeling the weight and the strangeness of it. A big sister. That was what Ro wanted. Something Celine had never been to anyone in all her ten years, something she had never envisioned.
Beneath the strangeness, in the place where hope would have been if she had let herself hope, something small and unnamed stirred.
“Ro has Issa already,” Celine said slowly. “And she still wanted a big sister.”
“Desperately,” Maris said. “She has been very clear on the subject.”
Something shifted in Celine’s chest — barely perceptible, like a door long frozen just beginning to ease on its hinges, not yet open, not yet anything, but no longer entirely shut.
Then the hum changed.
It did not warn. It deepened, filling Celine with a grace and integrity she allowed to soothe her. Something was coming up the hill. Something calling to her in a calm and yet urgent need. With sudden joy, Celine recognized a new door opening in her heart for someone who would mean more to her than she could imagine. They had not met. They had not talked, but of this the hum was certain, and Celine smiled in anticipation.
“He comes,” she whispered. “My father comes.”
3
8 comments
Christine Hastings
4
Daughter of the Shadow Prince Chapter 4
powered by
⭐️ The Writers Academy ⭐️
skool.com/marcello-iori-7056
A home for storytellers who want to write and share their best work and build a career through writing. Best Creative Writing Masterclass lives HERE
Build your own community
Bring people together around your passion and get paid.
Powered by