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Chapter Three

Peter

Two Years and Eleven Months Before Present Day

“ W ho, in all the kingdoms, was that?” William asked, standing beside me as I continued to wave at the carriage, which was taking Lady Darling home.

My chest rose and fell with my heavy breathing from chasing after her. I was a bit irritated that she had refused to call me “Peter,” but I was certain I could eventually wear her down. I liked my storyteller very much.

“Also, your mother is asking for you to meet her for lunch,” William added.

I turned to see my best friend’s light brown hair falling into his brown eyes, steadily questioning me.

He should have no need to ask such a thing.

I always had a storyteller reading to me.

My last one was not as pretty—an old woman, actually–who I believed for years to be the best storyteller.

She was rather good, and I was saddened to learn that she had become ill and could no longer read to me.

But Gwendolyn Darling was, indeed, even more talented.

That was all it was that made me incredibly excited every single morning to go into the study and wait for her arrival.

No matter what anyone said, I simply enjoyed the way she told the stories, nothing more.

“Okay, I will send word that we shall meet for dinner. And that is my storyteller. Why do you ask?” I questioned, looking from Gwen’s carriage over to William.

It had been a month, and had he and I really never conversed about her?

He had been busy with his father, training to be the next in line for his family’s duchy.

“When you mentioned your new storyteller, you didn’t give a name or speak of her being so young and pretty,” he said in a reverent whisper.

I looked back at the carriage.

“She is pretty, especially when I make her a little embarrassed,” I said, chuckling.

“You should be kind to her.” William paused, looking from the carriage to me.

“But—wait,” He paused, his hand under his chin and his eyes going wide.

“Is she a Darling ? Lord Darling never seems to leave his manor. I have not seen or heard much about their daughter, but she looks like her mother. Her mother is still considered a great beauty,” William said as I turned and started walking back to the castle. William followed after me.

I did not care as much about titles and prestige as some did. William, to his credit, usually did not care much, either, and he was the son of a Duke. He battled his own issues with his father and was very understanding of people who wished to be more than what their station required.

“Yes, she’s their only daughter. Gwendolyn is her given name, although I am not allowed to use it,” I muttered. “But I have no desire for–”

“Yes, a very good family. She could be a good match for you.”

“No, stop it,” I cut him off. “You sound like a courtier. You know I have no intention of marrying anytime soon. I only have hope for a relationship, someday, once my curse is broken. I would never let any woman suffer through this burning desire I have to constantly leave. I cannot and will not have feelings for her other than friendship.”

“Yes, yes, but the kingdom needs to know they have a future.”

“My brother is the crown prince—”

“Yes, and he is not here, meaning you stand for our kingdom.”

“You know, William, you really have a way of making a good day rather awful,” I said, shoving him in the shoulder. I didn’t want to be reminded of how my brother had abandoned his duty, leaving me as the heir .

He shoved me back with a gleeful smile.

“Some people enjoy discussing their futures,” William said with a smile.

“Not me. Now, if you don’t mind, I think I will sail for a bit.”

“Sure, but you said you’d look at my new fruit recipe.”

William’s hobby was baking with or preserving fruit in odd ways. He had been invested in that hobby for quite a few years. His passion, I could not understand, but I was always willing to taste his next recipe. Most of the time, they were delicious.

“I can, but first, I need a little adventure. My story was cut short today.”

“Should you tell your mother that you need longer sessions?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

I frowned at him.

“No. I teased her a little, and she ended the session. I will have to make sure she reads more before I tease her tomorrow.” My desire for adventure and leaving Walden had never been lower.

I looked forward to meeting with Lady Darling every morning, more than I did sailing. Very odd, but I was grateful.

“You should not be teasing a Darling unless—well I guess you can, you are a prince,” he pressed his lips together and placed a hand under his chin. “Father thought she would be a good match for me. But she is much too timid. ”

“Too timid? She is sweet.” I defended, irritated.

When I saw William raise his eyebrows as if to tease me, I sighed, waving him off.

“Never mind, William.” I patted a hand on his back.

“Do you want to sail? You still have much to learn if you wish to be a Navy captain.” William’s family’s land consisted of acres and acres of fruit orchards.

He loved them, but his father desperately wanted him to make something more of himself than becoming a baker and a farmer.

His father reminded him countless times that such work was for the hired help, not for an heir of their duchy.

“It is an earned, prestigious title, and I would welcome it,” William said, standing tall with a blank look upon his face; then once he was done, he huffed.

“You mean, your father would accept it for now?” I said flicking his nose, then darting away so he couldn’t reach me. His arm reached out too late to catch me; then he touched his nose, winced, and glared at me.

“Indeed, it would pacify him for a time. Perhaps, he will live forever, and I will have no need to claim the Duchy, I do have a younger brother–”

“Samuel? You think he would be a better Duke?” I chuckled. Samuel was only three years younger, and already untrustworthy and a fool by anyone’s standards.

“Yes, yes, I know. However, my father will have a choice–let the new Duke be me, someone who likes to get their hands dirty–or my brother, who cannot be trusted with a silver coin. ”

“And in the meantime, you become a captain?”

“It will distract father from my shameful leisure activities,” he said with an eye roll.

I smiled. Those “shameful activities” involved making delicious food from their plentiful fruit trees, and other farmlands.

“So, come practice. If you want me to make you a captain, you need to learn,” I said, wrapping one arm around his shoulders.

He flicked my nose, and I stepped away, dropping my arm to cup my nose.

It was always more painful than I expected when he hit my nose.

I should choose a different game to play.

“I know how to be one—” he started with a laugh at my discomfort.

“You may know the rules, but actually captaining a ship—is completely different, Will,” I said, rubbing the side of my nose. “You are ready for the next step.”

“Fine,” he said with a huff, like a petulant child.

“You know I have no issue with your fruit, by the way, my friend,” I said.

“Thank you. Drying fruit from my family’s orchards is practical and not wasteful. Imagine being on a ship for months and having dried fruit to eat, instead of only flatbreads and grains.”

“That does sound pleasant.”

“See, very useful,” William said, looking satisfied .

“Sure, it is useful. And so is learning to sail. Shall we, so you can be the captain of the best-fed crew on all the Seas?”

“Let’s. The sooner we sail, the sooner I can check on the fruit.”

I saw that he had something sticking out of his jacket pocket. Swiping it away, I ran down the path to the docks. As I reached them, I saw that the item was one of his fruit leathers. I smelled it—it smelled like peaches. I frowned.

“Peach,” Will said, nearly breathless with a smirk as he reached me at the docks a few moments later. “I know your tricks, Peter.”

I tossed the offending fruit leather at him, and he chuckled.

“It isn’t my fault you dislike peaches. There may be something wrong with you.”

“Come on—let’s go,” I said, ignoring him. “I want a strawberry one when we get back.”

“I just made a fresh batch.”

“Peter, how are things going with the new storyteller? Is Lady Darling doing well?” Mother asked over dinner that same evening.

She took a sip of her drink, waiting for my answer.

Her dark brown hair was tied back in a twist as it usually was, a few grey strands shimmered in the light like the sun upon the ocean.

“She is very amiable.”

“‘Amiable’?” Mother asked with a curious smile. I picked up my spoon and began to eat my soup with a nod. “Come now, Peter, she is loved at the orphanage. She came highly recommended.”

“She is a wonderful storyteller, Mother. Is that what you desire to hear?” I said, setting my spoon down into the bowl and giving her a grin.

“I am glad to hear it.”

“She is probably the best one I have ever had because I have had no desire to—you know,” I said, referencing my curse. I didn’t like to say it out loud. I looked at the soup as steam floated into the air.

“Really?” Mother said with a clap. I looked up at her, her smile was so large.

“Yes, it has been wonderful. Perhaps, the way she reads is what I’ve been lacking.”

“She is, I have heard, very expressive and even does voices.”