One Century to Marriage. Prisoners of the Magic Kingdom. Natalie Yacobson

my Lady Marianne has expressly forbidden us…»

      «I am king, not she!»

      The elf still had his doubts. What had Marianne told him that he should be so bashful?

      «I promise a kiss from my sister as a reward for anyone who wins the tournament, whether elf or mortal or a black knight from the realm of fairies!»

      When the elf heard this, he glowed and shook his quiver of arrows with joy. Apparently, he expected to be the victor.

      The envoy disappeared as magically as he had appeared. Conrad was left alone in the throne room. Only a pair of golden roses tinkled their petals beneath the throne. A low whisper could be heard in their ringing:

      «It is a mistake! The king has made a fatal mistake!»

      Conrad let the warning of the roses pass his ears. What mistake could there be. The elves are excellent allies, if their friendship can be secured. And the promise of Marianne’s kiss is worth far less than the traditional gold wreath that the winner of the tournament receives as a gift for his lady of the heart. Except that Marianne can be capricious and refuse the winner elf the prize. Then there will be no war. Conrad put his faith in luck and in the charms of the Queen of Fairies. Maybe something could be conjured up, so that the beauty of the elves would captivate even the grumpy princess.

      Bride’s Sickness

      Araminta has had many dreams about driving to her betrothed through stunted, enchanted woods where the trees have not a single leaf and the branches are as crooked as trolls’ fingers. Her companions whisper that the forest is haunted by evil spirits. Some sort of dwarf monster is indeed swirling under the hooves of the horses, trying to lead the entire cortege into the swamp. And voices call out from the swamp. They call out her name:

      «Araminta! Araminta! Araminta!»

      There is a whole chorus of voices. But where are they coming from? White winged figures swirl over the mire, like the ghosts of fairies. Araminta’s companions can’t see them, but she can. Could it be that she has discovered a secret sight? The swamp fairies turn toward her. Their faces are like plaster masks.

      «Another will take your place!» They whisper.

      The wheel of the carriage carrying Araminta becomes stuck in the mire. It is so easy to get stuck in the swamp forever. Araminta tries to get out. Pale, webbed hands reach out of the mire. One of them holds out a ripe fruit, like a winged apple. It is fresh and beautiful on the outside, but beneath the ruddy rind is a deadly disease.

      And that’s it! The dream ends! Each time it repeats the same thing that happened to her in reality. According to the royal physician, it is a normal reaction to the shock she has undergone, but the courtiers whisper worriedly for some reason:

      «She has fallen prey to the forest fairies!»

      Araminta opened her eyes with difficulty. Her eyelids began to grow a film, like cobwebs. Her whole body was covered with gray pustules. She could hardly feel her arms or legs. She would only sit for hours in a rocking chair in front of a window overlooking the royal garden. Sore growths appeared on her back, as if wings were about to grow out of it. And then she would become like those swamp ghostly fairies who had called her. Because of these outgrowths she will not be able to wear the exquisite wedding gown she brought from Fenir. The Fenir’s princess was to be married in the most expensive gown, trimmed with diamonds and silver. But instead of the wedding, it was time to prepare the coffin. Araminta was rotting alive. And all because of a wonderful apple that was held out to her by a hand from the mire.

      There was no need to take a bite out of that fruit. But the voices of the fairies enchanted her.

      Now there were ordinary human voices in the room above her, and she wanted to hear the whispers of the swamp fairies again.

      «She won’t last a year!» This was Marianne, the sister of the king whom Araminta is to marry, saying. «Everyone says it’s a disease from the marshes, but I’m sure she’s been sick ever since she ate the poisoned fruit from the strange tree that sprouted in the corner of the garden. It would have been cut down, but it withered itself and now resembles a sleeping goblin. My maidens complain that when they approach it, its branches cling to their dresses as if they were alive.»

      «What if she was ill to begin with?» The second voice seemed to belong to the king.

      «I doubt the ruler of Fenir would hide that from you. After all, the alliance is dynastic, not made for love.»

      «What do you know of love?»

      Marianne sighed resentfully. Araminta could barely hear her. She was sinking back into sleep. She hadn’t been awake for more than an hour lately. She was constantly drawn to sleep. Her eyelids were slipping, her mind racing back to the swamps full of evil and fairies, where the winged fruit waited. She probably took too small a bite out of it to die at once.

      «Does she ever wake up?» Marianne carefully straightened her brother’s fiancée’s blond curls. They had turned almost gray, and a meshed gray rash stretched across the skin under her bangs.

      «Don’t touch it! You may be infected!» Conrad warned.

      «It is nonsense! I would have caught it a long time ago if it were contagious.»

      «You probably only get it from swamp creatures, not humans,» Conrad agreed.

      «I don’t want to say anything bad, but if you don’t get married right away, you’ll have to marry a corpse.»

      «Shut up about the wedding!» Conrad suddenly became furious. Marianne had never seen him like that. He had changed since his return from Shai’s lands. He had seemed a stranger to her, as if an evil spirit had taken over his brother’s familiar body.

      Conrad announced that there would be no war with Shai. Allegedly he had not found enemies there, but allies.

      But the king looked grim, as if he was expecting a devastating war. The castle was flooded with monstrous knights from Shai. Each of them was a giant. Marianne was a little afraid of them. These monsters were completely indifferent to female beauty, so she could not twirl them around like ordinary knights. Attack her with one such monster, and her faithful admirers Lance and Henrik would not be able to protect her. What could ordinary warriors do against the giants?

      Conrad assured her that there was nothing to fear. After all, Queen of Shai favors him. Marianne was struck by the very fact that Shai was ruled by a queen, not a king. Normally even widows retreated into the shadows, ceding their place on the throne to male heirs. And Medea Shai was no widow. But she was a lord of an army of giants.

      Queen of Shai sent gifts for all of Aluar: baskets of black fruit, with wing-shaped growths on the stalks instead of leaves. They were the lightest cloths woven with mysterious symbols, daggers of unusual black steel. The maidens received wondrous ornaments and flowers which did not need soil, but took root directly in the carpet. The townspeople were given bundles of berries that evoked pleasant visions. Even the peasants Medea Shai had not forgotten, sending them sacks of black grain, the harvest from which should ripen in just three days after sowing.

      «I don’t want any trouble with all these wonderful gifts,» Marianne worried, but her brother brushed her off like an annoying gnat. He had never been so inconsiderate toward her. But he looked at Araminta asleep, even with hostility. And he had liked her very much before. Marianne had the feeling that Conrad’s heart had remained in distant Shai.

      «Better put that away!» She removed a light beige veil woven from Araminta’s curls, another gift from the strange queen.

      Conrad was saying something about fairies. They lived in Shai and wove magical capes of cobwebs, but the two servants sent by Medea Shai were not fairies, but monstrous dwarfs in gorgeous oriental robes. They resembled two living bushes, one black, other green. Arms like branches held trays with gifts for Araminta. One held a box of costume jewelry, the other a symbol