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Chapter Eight

Gwendolyn

Two Months Before Present Day

I t is the nature of pixies to be mischievous toward humans. Though it always appears to their victims, of course, that the pixies have good intentions. Still, they can do much harm in the name of their good, I read aloud.

“Hm-m,” Prince Peter said, his head resting on my lap as he played with a shell in his hand.

I tried to stop the very fervent beating of my heart, but whenever Prince Peter touched me or was close to me, it was hard.

I liked him very much. My affection for him was growing stronger and stronger each and every day.

“Yes?” I asked.

“It’s just these pixies–I think I would like them,” he said as I watched the sea breeze move his wavy, dark locks across his brow.

I wondered, regrettably not for the first time, what it would feel like to caress his hair. I looked away from him and out to the steady waves.

“I am sure you would; you are good at causing a stir .”

“A stir ! Gwen, how dare you say such a thing to the prince!” he said, and even though I knew it was a jest, my cheeks grew warm. Over time, he had worn me down. I let him call me Gwen, but only in private, yet I continued to address him, using his title.

“Ha ha, very funny. You know I speak the truth.” I paused and watched him as he caressed the seashell he held in his large, muscular hands. What I wouldn’t have given to know what those hands felt like holding my hand, caressing my face.

I looked back at the book. Prince Peter was just my dear friend. No matter how irritated it made my mother, that is what we were.

Do not ever make a deal with pixies, I read on. Pixies always come and exact their

payment without any warning.

“Well, that is ominous,” Peter said, looking up at me from where he lay.

I knew I should have refused him using my lap as his pillow.

It was entirely inappropriate, but he did have his jacket underneath his head as a layer between us.

I watched the wind play with a lock of his hair and caress his face.

I cleared my throat and went back to the book, right after he winked at me.

Ridiculous flirt, I thought.

Readers beware, for when speaking of the pixies out loud, they will be made aware. They

know. They can sense their name being used, regardless of the distance between pixie and speaker. Do not be surprised if you say ‘pixies’ often enough, and then they come for you.

I gasped.

Peter sat up at the sound I made.

“Are you okay, Gwen?”

“Did you not hear? Speaking about them out loud makes them come for you.”

“Oh, it is not true. It’s just a story.”

“Your Highness, this is no simple story.”

“Yes, okay, but no one has seen a pixie since before the Great War; they, sadly, were all killed back then.”

“How do you know this with all certainty?” I asked, looking at the book.

“There used to be lands out there,” Prince Peter said, pointing to the horizon.

“Beyond this sea, and there were other tales I heard about when I was a small child. Did you not hear of them? They were tales of sea serpents, monstrous sharks, and one of the tales even spoke of sunken lands, brimming with gems that would make the discoverer richer than the wealthiest king on Terra. ”

“I have–yes, I have, but what if–what if they are true tales?”

“They once were, Gwen, but I have sailed these seas. There is only a mist out there. Sadly, that is all that is left of the pixies: the treasures, and the land that once was. King Falcon made sure of it. May he rot in the mountain .”

“ May he rot in the mountain ,” I repeated.

“So, do not worry about the extinct, devilish pixies. Even if they do exist, which is impossible, I would never let them come for you . I need my storyteller far too much to allow that,” he said, standing up and holding out his hand to help me up from the sand.

I placed my hand in his, enjoying the feeling of him for a brief moment.

“Well, I shall get you home. Do not want your mother to fret,” Prince Peter said.

“She always frets. I am forever a burden to her, but thank you.”

“You know what you need?” Peter asked, his eyes alight with excitement. He tugged on my hand till we were at the shoreline.

“Your highness?” I asked in confusion, tugging against him so I wouldn’t get my shoes wet.

“You need to call out to the sea!” he said. His hair was blowing in the wind, and his smile made him look so handsome and honest. Prince Peter was unapologetically himself, and I admired that about him .

“Call out to it? As you do, when upset by your siblings' curses?”

“Exactly, your mother sounds horrid. You should call out to the sea–confess your feelings. You will feel much better.”

“Oh, I could not do that,” I said, trying to again escape the situation, but the prince’s hand was firmly grasping mine.

“Just try it. I promise to not make you do it again if you do not feel like it.” He gave his sweetest smile, and my heart melted, drawing me back beside him. He pressed his arm against me, causing heat to race through my body.

“I will try, but I must think of something,” I said, looking at the waves in contemplation, hoping they would inspire the words I needed to say.

“I will go first,” he began; then, he called out to the sea; “I want my brother and sister back!” His chest rising and falling rapidly with his words. He stood there as if waiting for the sea to respond. Then after a time, he looked over at me and motioned for me to try.

I pulled my shoulders back.

“I do not wish to be like you, Mother! I do not want to be perfect! I want to be me!” My chest rose and fell so quickly, and I was out of breath.

My cheeks felt warm with embarrassment. But after only a moment of silence after my call out to the sea, warm arms embraced me, and my face was pressed against a firm chest .

“That was remarkable, Gwen!” Peter said. “You are better at that than I am.” I could feel the rumble of his voice and the rapid beating of his heart with my ear against his chest. I never wanted to move from that spot.

“It felt freeing,” I said softly. Peter let me go and smiled down at me.

“Good, and just so you know, you are perfect just the way you are–and I do not mean you are perfect, I just mean who you are–it is wonderful. I am sorry things with your mother are challenging.” Prince Peter said that last phrase while touching the back of his head, his stance a little unsure.

Is he nervous? It is only me.

“Thank you, I truly appreciate that.” He had been right, calling out to the sea felt powerful in a way.

“Well, we should make our way back,” Prince Peter said with a smile.

“Yes, thank you,” I said as we walked side by side.

“I enjoyed the story today.”

“Yes, well, I fear it was not a good one to choose, as now I may have unleashed pixies on myself.”

“You will be fine. It is just an old tale.”

He was probably right, and yet there was a heaviness in my chest. I did not take things as lightly as the prince.

Will the pixies come for me?