Enchanted Twelve 1

"Aye Sire. Young Robert could run the shop as I work here in the castle. If he runs into a problem, however, will he have freedom to come to me for aide?"

"Of course. I will let the guards now that you will be our newest resident. When the mystery of the girls and their wanderings are solved, then you can return to the village. Andrea's suggestion makes sense to me. You are here every day and I don't see their sleepless nights ending anytime soon. I just wish I knew what caused it. Perhaps with a man lurking around, they will be less inclined to walk the halls of the castle."

"Is that what you believe is happening Sire?"

Bartholomew shook his head. "I do not know what is happening. I have placed guards outside their doors and they claim that no one enters or leaves the room. I have added another maid to each chamber, but they too claim that all go to bed when told and are still there come morning. The maids and the guards are not to sleep, though I must wonder if they are failing in that demand."

"I will do my best to find an answer to the puzzle, Your Highness."

The king shook the young man's hand. "Even if you do not, at least your shoes will not wear out from the long trek from the village to the castle."

Andrew chuckled, bowed when the King left the room and then turned his attentions to Robert. "Let us return to the shop. I will go over a few things with you and gather some supplies. You have a big responsibility ahead of you." The lad grinned wide and Andrew ruffled the curls on his head with a gentle palm. "I've never met a boy that enjoyed work so much."

Danielle watched the interaction from one of the windows outside the study. She felt a familiar tingling in her gut, moistened her lips and swallowed the apprehension that had found a home in her chest. She did not want the cobbler under her roof. He made her insides queasy. It had been years since she'd felt such stirring emotions. Those emotions had led her down a path of sin; she had no desire to go there again or reopen the pain that had been thrust upon her, even if she were twenty-five and more than ready to experience the touch of a man again.

The Princess turned away and walked back to the bench she'd been occupying. Her gaze drifted over her sisters. Mandy and Millay had their heads pressed together, whispering words in their own special language. "Twins," Danielle thought to herself, "how wonderful it would have been to have a sister that was so close to me."

Her thoughts then shifted to the only set of triplets in the family. Robin, Hazel and Violet had separated themselves and were each now doing their own thing. She felt a bit of melancholy sweep through her as she heard matching laughter echoing from the woods. Aurelia and Ariel, mirror images of each other, were up to no good, Danielle told herself, wondering if perhaps she should eavesdrop on their conversation.

A movement to her left drew her attention back to the other sisters. The remaining four were more like her than the twins or triplets; they had not shared their mother's womb during their months cocooned in its warmth.

Angelina, Quinn, Merry and young Cecilia. Four Princesses just as lovely as the rest, had found a place in the gardens to contemplate their dreams or plan their days activities. Danielle felt a need to shelter them all, especially Cecilia... she was special. The eldest princess vowed to stay awake that night in order to stop their dreams before they consumed them. She had made this same promise every night, and every night she failed. Surely though... with the added tension of Andrew's presence the night would be held at bay and the dreams would not consume her.

Andrea sat on the edge of her favorite chair. On her lap rested the cloak she'd pulled from her trunk. Her fingers toyed with the cord that rested on the top of the folded cloth. Her eyes remained fixed on the man in front of her. "Andrew. Do you understand all that I am asking you?" she asked of the young cobbler.

Andrew blinked, shook his head hoping to clear his thoughts. He had just barely returned to the castle, after gathering his supplies for his new residence, when he had been summoned to the Queen's chambers. He hurried, curious as to what she needed of him. What she had requested was not something he had ever dreamed would emerge from her plump lips.

"Your Majesty," he said after clearing his throat, "you speak of magic. Different realms where creatures I have never seen before exist. You ask me to wear that," he pointed to the cloak, "and spy on your daughters."

"Yes," Andrea said and rose from her seat. She moved over to Andrew and claimed the empty space beside him on the larger lounging chair. "Master Cobbler. The magical stories that surrounded you as a child, ones that placed your Queen on a pedestal... they are real. Though I am not perfect I did come to Westingfield by magical means. A portal exists between the two worlds. I have never been able to close it, but I have for years protected my children from my sister."

"But now you can not?"

The Queen sighed. "No. It seems because they have refused to believe in magic, my powers are waning. It is the belief that keeps one inner light shining. Angora has woven some sort of spell over my girls. I feel it in my soul, but I can not stop her. No longer do the girls have faith in the stories of their mother and her people. It is because of that loss of innocense that they are slowly losing the lights that shine in their eyes. I do not know the spell, but I know it keeps them from resting a full night. I need you to watch them. Do not interfere, but observe them, come back to me and tell me what my sister is doing. Help me find a way to stop them."

Andrew rose and walked a few feet away, giving him space he suddenly needed. "Your Highness. What can I do? I know nothing of witchcraft. I am but a simple man. Would not a trained guard be a better choice?"

Andrea smiled softly. "It is because you are simple that you will blend easily. She will not see you as a threat... and if you follow my rules, she'll not see you at all."

The Queen of Westingfield rose and placed the cloak in Andrew's hands. "Wear this at all times. She will sense a presence, but she will not see you, lest you take it off. Andrew my magic is limited, but it has never failed me when I have called upon it. The book I read from told me that you were the one to take on this quest. Do not ask me why you are the chosen one; even a witch doesn't know all the reasons behind her spells. Some things we just must accept and live with."

"Mistress, I see and hear the worry in your voice. I still do not agree that a simple man is the answer, but I will serve you."

He tucked the cloak under his arm and bowed to the Queen. "King Bartholomew, does he know of this plan?"

"Yes. I have spoken to him and he admits that the idea of Angora's involvement has played at the back of his mind. He had hoped she had forgotten about him."

"You told me he chose you over her. No woman forgives the man that shunned her for her sister."

"You speak with experience?" Andrea asked, lifting a curious brow.

Andrew chuckled. "No. I just know women. I have several sisters as well as aunts and cousins. Not to mention lately I have been surrounded by twelve beautiful creatures who speak rather candidly when they are only in the presence of a servant."

"As long as they are still respectful to you."

"Always, Your Highness."

"Good. Your work begins tonight. Go now and rest. I will serve you your meal this evening as well as your wine. You are not to eat or drink anything else unless I prepare it for you. My magic will keep you alert during the night while my daughters rest."

"As you wish, Your Majesty."

Andrea watched the cobbler leave with her magical cloak. "Please be with him," she whispered to the God of Westingfield and the gods of Oarthland. A door to her right opened; she faced the man she had left her world for and opened her arms. "He will save them," she said as Bartholomew moved into her embrace.

"You are sure? He is nothing more than a commoner. A guard is stronger; wiser; trained."

"Your guards are trained, but not necessarily wiser or stronger. You have never doubted my magic before. Do not doubt it now. He is exactly what we need. He will stay hidden. He will find the answer to breaking Angora's hold. But enough... you observed us in secret. Do you find him at least a worthy suitor for one of our children?"

"Aye. If that is the payment he accepts then he may chose one of our daughters to wed. Why did you not make that offer to him. Surely that incentive would have been enough."

Andrea laughed. "What women wants to learn years from now she was sold into her marriage. No...we will reward him with the hand of one of our fair maidens if that is what he desires. Besides maybe I will be wrong and he will only ask for jewels and gold."

Bartholomew rolled his eyes. "With what I am having to pay to have those girls in footwear he could own my castle before the summer comes."

The Queen couldn't help but giggle as she stepped up on her toes and kissed her husband's lips. Their bodies pressed together, hands began to explore the various dips and curves that years of living had toned or softened. Andrea moaned softly as Bartholomew's fingers moved to release the pearl buttons at the back of her gown. She shifted from one foot to the next while the tender caresses brought shivers of delight across her flesh. It would be sometime later before the Queen and her King emerged from the sitting room to dine with their children and their house guest.

Danielle spent most of her dinner casting glances toward their newest house guest. Why had her mother insist on serving the young man and tending to his needs for the meal? Why was he even allowed to sit at the same table with them? The practice of dining with the common man or woman had been ended several years ago. Danielle still remembered that night, the night when a man her father had trusted tried to end their lives. A shudder ran over her spine, causing her to shiver, a motion that unbeknown to her, Andrew picked up.

Her thoughts trailed back to the night that the village Baker had become the lands most heinous enemy. The man had been trusted by many in the village as well as a reoccurring guest in the castle. It had been her mother's birthday celebration. He created a lavish cake and several intricately decorated pastries. He sat with the royal family. The desserts were passed around; a maid stumbled, dropping a plate of sweet pudding and thick cream. Immediately one of the various pets, that the girls were known for housing, bounded out from under the table and devoured the succulent dish. The Princesses giggled as did their mother; Bartholomew cursed; the Baker's face turned ash white as he watched the animal lap up the sticky mix. Then its body jerk violently. The laughter of the women died; horror replaced their happy expressions. Seconds later the creature lay dead on the stone floor and accusing eyes of a King and Queen flew in direction of the traitor.

Danielle's blue eyes lifted from her untouched food and focused on Andrew, who was giving his attention to one of her many sisters. Was he plotting against them? Was he behind the sleepless nights they were experiencing? More questions were piled upon her shoulders as she tried to make sense of all that was happening to her and her siblings. A tapping sound brought her back to the moment and she turned to her father. She listened to him toast their guest, welcoming him as if he were as important as a neighboring King or visiting Lord.

Andrew nodded his acceptance and thanked the family for the warm welcome as well as his lavish room. The meal progressed easily; the girls whispered amongst themselves. Andrea and Bartholomew shared stories of the girls' youth with their house guest and Danielle fumed inwardly as she thought of how close the cobbler would be to her and her family. The distrust of him, she knew was unwarranted, but the looks he cast toward her made her feel strange. She didn't welcome the tingling or the heated blush that seemed to overcome her whenever he spoke toward her.

"Danielle."

The eldest Princess turned her head toward the voice that had called to her. "Yes, mother?"

"Please show our guest to his room."

Danielle's brow furrowed in confusion. Her mother said nothing else, just lifted a brow. The Princess shrugged her shoulders and rose from her seat. The other girls watched, curiosity filling their expressions. Danielle too wondered why she, a Princess, was escorting the cobbler when there were several servants in attendance. She said nothing though, mindful that her mother had acted odd all evening, so why not throw convention further into the wind.

"Master Cobbler." Danielle walked to his side, and they left the room, her leading the way and him following a few steps behind her. When they were far enough from the dining hall, Danielle stopped and placed her hands on her hips. "What is going on here?" she demanded, her voice low, but the whispered question harshly spoken.

Andrew stared back at the woman before him, fought the urge to confess all her mother had told him and simply shrugged his shoulders. "I am but a guest of your parents, my King and Queen. There is nothing going on. You and your sisters are in need of my services," he paused and lifted a brow, smirking as he continued speaking, "it seems you are in need of them daily. So tell me Your Highness, what do you do all night that puts holes in your slippers and calluses on your tiny feet."

Danielle pursed her lips in annoyance. "We do nothing. It is your poor workmanship that makes our slippers weak. Perhaps that child in your shop as become the teacher and you the student."

His laughter echoed through the hall. "You know what is happening, yet you wish to not share it with your parents. Why is that? Where do you go? Perhaps," he took a step toward her, "there is a lover that you seek out each night? Rumors once..."

Danielle's face paled as the accusation swept over her. Her hand rose to slap at the cobbler's handsome face, but then she dropped the raised palm and turned away. "It shouldn't surprise me that one of such low birth would believe the lies of those that are without honor." She took several steps away from Andrew, before being forced to stop. Her gaze shot down to the firm hand that gripped her elbow. She turned and stared back at him.

Andrew studied her face, immediately feeling sorry for his blunder, however he equally felt angered at her assault on his character. "Danielle," he saw her brows lift at the familiarity of her name coming from his lips, "I am sorry. That was rude of me. I did not, nor do I now believe the rumors that surrounded you several years ago. I have honor, but even I sometimes lack decorum. I am after all 'low birth'."

She stared back at him, licked her lips and felt the heat of his touch searing through the fabric of her dress. Danielle took a deep breath. "You owe me no apology, for I goaded you into your humor. I am not sure why you put these feelings of hostility in me; perhaps I am just too tired. The nights are not full of frolicking for me."

The last words were softly spoken, but Andrew caught them, once more locking away a piece to the puzzle that he was assigned to solve. "Danielle, I may be nothing more than a commoner, but I have always been here. I know that the rumors were just that. . .lies spread by a man that wanted more than you were willing to give. Those that believe them are not worthy to wear even your most worn slippers. Since your nights are not full of frolicking, then why not spend it with me?"

Danielle's eyes grew wide and she jerked her arm free of his grasp. Immediately Andrew realized the implication of his request and began laughing again. This time lifting an arm to try and stall whatever hostile words she was prepared to toss back at him. "No... not that way," he chuckled harder, wiping at tears that had threatened to spring free, "I meant perhaps you could spend a few hours in my company. I hear you are quite skilled at chess. A game that even I feel confident in."

Her teeth pulled on her lower lip as she thought of his offer. If she were to spend a few hours with him, then maybe she could protect her sisters and keep all threat to them away, including any that Andrew presented. She angled her head and nodded. "I will retire to my room and after my sisters fall asleep I will come to yours. A game will last several hours for I am quite good."

He smirked and then winked, before returning his hand to her elbow, and guiding her back down the hall to his room. "I welcome the challenge," he whispered. Andrew found himself very excited by the aspect of spending a few hours in Danielle's company. If he didn't solve the mystery of the girls and their sleepless nights, at least he would have fond memories of his own sleepless nights to accompany him in his lonely bed.

The couple stopped at the threshold of his quarters. Andrew released the hold he had on the Princess, bowed his head and left her in the hall. Behind the door, he faced the room that had been one of the Princesses maids' room. It reeked of feminine fragrances, such as rose and lilies. He had opened the shutters, hoping to air out the overwhelming perfumes, but as he took a deep breath he still breathed in their overpowering aroma. "Women," he muttered to himself and then thought of the woman who he would spend a few hours with. She wore no artificial scents and now as he stood in the center of a room of fragrant blooms, he found himself thankful for that.

Andrew moved to the bed and picked up the cloak that the Queen had gifted him with. He had not yet tried it on, but wondered if perhaps it was not time. When would the girls wander the halls? When would their restlessness start? He had no answers, but knew the sooner he found them, the happier he could make all their lives. That thought brought a sigh from his lips. He would certainly make the kingdom happier, but his own life would return to the daily chores that revolved around the people that he served, not the woman he wish to serve.

He thought of Danielle and wondered why she worked so hard to remain bitter. There were times she was a kind, hearted Princess. She was respectful and caring; then suddenly she was tossing her hair and acting as if she were better than the rest. She wasn't though, he knew her to be a strong-headed woman, yes, but he'd seen the look of worry on her face whenever the subject of their slippers came up, or when one of her sisters yawned from exhaustion. A man would have to be blind to not witness the paleness of her features as the toll of worry took root in her soul. Then again... Andrew was in love with her, so perhaps only he saw these things.

"You're a fool, Master Cobbler," he said to himself as he slipped on the cloak and tied the cord tightly around his waist. He swept the hood up and tucked it around his head. He then walked to the mirror and stared back at himself. A frown rose as he looked at his appearance. The mirror's warbled image projected his own back at him. "It's not working," he thought as he ran his hands down his chest. "I'm still here," he muttered under his breath.

He sighed and moved to remove the cloak, hoping he had time to return to the dining hall and speak privately with Andrea. A knock on the door made him pause. He gave permission for the temporary interruption of his plan. Andrew watched the door open and Rita, the maid, stepped in. "Yes?" he asked as she looked around the room, past him and then back across the space of the living area.