A Heart Too Tender (Goblin Presents: A Valentine’s Anthology #6)
Long Ago
All they cared about was his appearance—and theirs.
Defeated by the persistent loneliness, Prince August requested his parents’ help. His father, King Odo, could not care less about his son’s romantic troubles.
“Our arranged marriage has been beneficial to the kingdom,” he gestured to Queen Theodora, “we can seek bids from other kingdoms if that’s what you wish.”
King Odo stroked his long beard pondering these plans.
His robes of burgundy velvet glimmered in the afternoon light that streamed through the many stained-glass windows of the throne room.
His crown sat tilted on his head as if it had been thrown there haphazardly.
Diamonds caught the light and sent tiny rainbows dazzling in the air.
But it was Prince August’s mother, Queen Theodora, who shook her head, pursing her full lips. The otherworldly glow around her seemed to flare. His mother was a great beauty, and was well respected for her kindness and wisdom.
“No, no. That won’t do. We need a witch—a powerful one.”
The king raised a white bushy eyebrow at his wife’s insistence. “Whatever do we need a witch for?”
“Our son is too handsome, and a prince! We have to make sure that whomever he marries is pure of heart and not a wench with her eyes set firmly on his looks and gold. This woman will be queen one day—the people, and our darling boy, deserve the best.”
King Odo considered her words for quite a long time before waving a bejeweled hand lazily.
“I know better than to tell you no when it comes to your scheming. But make it quick. Heart’s Night is in a month’s time.
If he is to be wed this season, it will be on that day, like all of Wimberley’s royals before him. ”
Queen Theodora rose from her throne in a graceful flourish, her silver gown pooled at her feet like moonlight. “Let’s be off, then. It’s been ages since I’ve paid a visit to the Witch Mother.”
Their journey was a pleasant one through the sleeping forest and to the Witch Mother’s cottage. They passed rambling gnomes, whose tall hats dwarfed their small bodies and the tiny baskets they held filled with fruits and vegetables.
A flock of pixies with glasslike wings that tinkled with sounds akin to bells struggled to pick an apple, but Prince August, ever the gentleman, assisted them. Kisses blown from the wondrous creatures bobbed and floated like bubbles. He grinned at their display, nodding to bid them adieu.
Mid-journey, Queen Theodora and Prince August halted their stallions, allowing a horde of goblins and elven to pass. The goblins sang merrily, emerald dust covering them from head to toe.
Prince August loved his home. Loved the abundance of magic, the citizens of all shapes and kinds and species, the lush land, and the sparkling capital.
But as they traveled on, the forest darkened.
The trees became massive with antiquity and covered in gray moss that dripped like rain from their branches.
Theodora glanced sidelong at her only son. “No matter what happens here, you deserve to be loved for who you are on the inside.”
August nodded, but the change in his mother’s tone had him shifting in the saddle. “Should I be wary of the Witch Mother?”
“No, but you should give her the respect her title bears as you do with all others both below and above you.”
“I see. And how do you know the Witch Mother?” August asked.
“The Witch Mother was tasked with escorting me from Ania to Wimberley when I was to wed your father. She taught me about the people here, and their kind and accepting ways. Not every kingdom is such, as you well know.”
He knew it very well as many of his dalliances had been with princesses of neighboring kingdoms. Their vapid and selfish ways had soured his tongue to the name of love for quite some time.
“What are we asking the Witch Mother for exactly? I thought the witches had fallen far out of favor and were nearly extinct.”
His mother grimaced. “A spell perhaps—and a reading.”
August’s dark brows nearly hit his hairline. The ominous tone of her voice had him tugging at his high blue collar that pressed into his throat.
“A reading?” he asked with a healthy amount of anxiety.
“The witches should have never been treated as such. Silly superstitions. They are more than necessary to our realm and the magic in it. Besides, I would like to know if your true love is out there and if this will be worth the trouble.”
The prince scoffed. So pragmatic was his mother, and even though she adored her only son, she was above wasting time and being made a fool. Such was the way of a Queen.
The stone cottage appeared in the evening gloom. Silverstone sparkled and thick white smoke piped from the chimney. They dismounted, tying their black and white stallions off on a nearby tree. August took his mother’s hand, leading her through moss and ferns to the arched wooden door.
She looked like an outsider here, draped in fine jewelry and silver silk. He appeared much the same. A fine embroidered jacket of navy, a high-collared tunic, and tight tan breeches tucked into tall black boots that shined like onyx in the light.
His mother rapped twice on the door, and it opened on its own.
An ancient voice purred from the shadows. “Come in, my queen, my prince.”
Theodora strode through the door, August at her side. He stopped abruptly just past the threshold. A feminine figure was bent over a cast-iron cauldron. Mists the color of twilight rose from the bubbling surface.
Prince August was struck mute, for the face didn’t match the voice. Long raven hair, unlined porcelain skin and eyes the color of sapphires stared back at him.
“I’m just finishing up your potion. If you’d like, you can go through the formalities and tell me what you require of me.”
Theodora chuckled, and the anxiety left August’s tense shoulders. “Celeste, I would never deign to give you orders,” She gestured to Prince August. “But we do require something, and I need to know—”
“If it will even work,” Celeste mused. “It will. But he won’t like it.”
August shifted his attention from the witch to his mother, feeling like an overlooked bystander.
“Couldn’t you just tell us who my beloved is so we can be on our way?” August interjected.
Celeste snorted and brushed a lock of hair off her shoulder. “That’s not how it works. She needs to fall in love with you for it to last, and you with her. We can’t skip steps.”
August sighed, knowing for all the world that there would be much required in making his dreams come true. Queen Theodora rested a hand on his arm, offering some comfort.
“The falling is the best part,”she said, her face radiant with a reminiscent smile.
Celeste looked through them, her eyes turning glassy as her mind drifted through time and space.
“It’s time.”
She dropped a handful of peas into the cauldron and took a step back as the liquid inside surged and spun like a tempestuous sea.
“You’ll need six peas, and this potion,” Celeste breathed, as she ladled part of the iridescent liquid into a vial. “The woman of your dreams awaits.”
So this is where our story begins, a prince looking for a princess fit to be queen, a witch in need of a victory, and a mother wanting her son to find love at last …