9. Charlotte
The farewell exchanges between Charlotte and her family were stilted and awkward, and all she wanted was for them to be over. And yet, once they were, she hesitated. She knew it was too late to turn back, but her courage wavered in the face of departing everything she knew for a deep unknown.
She tried to remind herself of what was before her. The Palace of Light would no doubt be more glorious than she could even imagine. Her future might be unknown, but that didn’t mean she needed to fear it.
Bolstering herself, she crossed to the bear, placing a hesitant hand on the soft fur of his shoulder. He stilled beneath her touch, but when she peered at his face, he seemed pleased. Did he still worry that she was afraid of him?
“Where do we go now?” she asked him, not quite managing to use his name.
“To my home,” he replied, and she felt her first shiver of genuine excitement. Were they going to the Palace of Light immediately?
“Should I ride you again?” she asked, glancing toward the sky where the light was starting to fade.
“Yes,” he said in his deep rumbly voice. “It is necessary if we are to reach our destination today.”
She nodded. It made sense that she couldn’t merely walk to another realm on her own feet. Murmuring an apology, she once again used his fur to haul herself into position on his back. From there, she sent a final glance toward her family who stood with Master Harold and his wife.
All four of them looked awed, and Charlotte allowed herself a moment of satisfaction. She was going to a bigger life, while they had merely made their world smaller. Then she remembered her family were to move to Arcadia and the feeling soured.
The bear took off with a lurch of movement that made her forget all about the people behind them as she clutched at his fur.
“Apologies,” he called back to her. “But I will have to move faster this time if we are to make it before nightfall.”
“Faster?” she gasped, remembering how swiftly they had traveled before. “Is that possible?”
He gave his gravelly laugh. “It is, indeed. If you lean forward and rest your head on my neck, you can wrap your arms around me in a more secure hold. You can even close your eyes and sleep if you wish. I will not let you fall, and we will be there before you know it.”
Charlotte had intended to remain alert, curious about the journey itself, but as the bear picked up speed, she was forced to flatten herself or risk losing her balance. And pressed against his warm fur, it was easier to close her eyes than keep them open given the wind generated by their speed.
She wouldn’t sleep, however. How could she sleep after all that had just happened and with all that was before her?
An unknown length of time later, she awoke with a start. It took her a disorienting moment to realize she was still clutching the bear’s fur but they had come to a stop. When had she fallen asleep?
“We have arrived,” the bear said in a deep tone she couldn’t entirely read.
Shaking the remaining fuzziness from her mind, she slipped off his back and looked upward. The sight in front of her made her gasp.
An austere castle of gray stone had been built against a craggy mountain face. There were no lights in the windows nor any other sign of life, but it appeared to be in good condition and was by far the largest building she had ever seen. It had turrets but no flags—nothing to indicate which kingdom they were in. And given the rapidly gathering darkness, it didn’t seem possible it could be the Palace of Light.
“Are we to stay here tonight?” she asked, bewildered, wishing she had stayed awake long enough to see the direction of their travel. The presence of the castle suggested they had moved westward, leaving the fringes of civilization and moving deeper into Rangmere. But the mountains that ringed them on three sides indicated they had rather gone east into the impassable mountains that bordered the Four Kingdoms.
“Of course,” the bear said, sounding a little confused. “You would not want to sleep in the open.”
“No,” she rushed to assure him, despite the resurgence of her trepidation now they were truly alone in such a foreign place. “This is by far the grandest building I’ve ever seen. I will be honored to stay here. But…is this your castle?” She managed a small laugh. “Are you a prince among the bears?”
He hesitated for a moment, the air between them turning awkward. “It’s true this is my home for now,” he said at last, “but the castle doesn’t belong to me.”
She laughed again, trying to break the new tension. “Are you a squatter then?”
“More like a prisoner,” he murmured, so quietly she almost didn’t catch it. But when he looked up, he was grinning, and the coldness in the air had disappeared.
“Princess Charlotte suits you, though, don’t you think? I’m sorry there isn’t great fanfare awaiting you and a line of courtiers ready to pledge their loyalty.”
She laughed back.
“I’m no princess, and I have no desire for such a scene. This is already far more than I expected.”
Henry’s face turned serious. “I hope that’s true, and you didn’t marry me because you thought I held some high position.”
“Of course not!” she laughed. “And how could I complain when your home has turned out to be a castle? You said you would provide for me, and you’re already doing so. It’s clear you keep your promises.” She said the last words with extra weight, and he nodded slightly, seeming to instinctively understand her sudden tension.
“You can be sure I will always endeavor to do so. And for now, you are princess of this castle, at least. Though I hope one day I may offer you more.”
He spoke with a careful lightness that betrayed underlying tension.
“Truly, it isn’t necessary,” she rushed to reassure him. And even as she spoke the words, she realized she had no idea how he felt about their marriage. She had only ever considered the matter from her own perspective. Did it pain him to have to seek a human girl as a bride? What had driven him to do so?
“How long will we stay here?” she asked. “Before we continue on to your true home, I mean.”
He looked shocked at her words, and his reply was slow and cautious. “My true home?”
Charlotte frowned. “The Palace of Light, I mean. That is where you are originally from, isn’t it?”
Her clarification only seemed to shock him further.
“You thought I was one of the High King’s creatures from the Palace of Light? And that I meant to take you there?”
“Aren’t you?” She drew back, fear clogging her throat.
“Is that why you married me?” he asked, horror in his voice. “Is that why you trusted me?”
“Yes,” she said in a small voice. But after a moment of heavy silence, honesty compelled her to continue. “Well, not entirely. That’s the explanation I gave myself, but my instincts told me you were trustworthy and safe from the beginning. I was drawn to you from our first meeting in a way I can’t explain.”
She clasped her hands together, desperately hoping her instincts hadn’t led her astray.
Henry drew back, his expression conveying a level of distress that shouldn’t have been possible on the face of a bear.
“I’m truly sorry,” he said. “I did not intentionally deceive you. If I had dreamed—” He shook his head abruptly. “No, I should have guessed it. It was a reasonable assumption. It is my fault for not foreseeing that you would—”
“No, indeed, you can’t blame yourself!” Charlotte cried, moved by his concern. Clearly it had not been a duplicitous deception. Her heartbeat slowed again, the momentary panic receding. It might not have made logical sense, but she still trusted him.
Their current situation was another matter, however. Was this castle more than a temporary home for him? Had he really muttered something about being a prisoner? She stared at the castle with new eyes.
He wanted her to live here, in this cold and lifeless place, deep in the mountains? Who else lurked behind the castle walls? Were there others like him?
The thought filled her with horror, and she couldn’t entirely keep the emotion from her face. The bear looked from the sky—which was clinging to only the last vestiges of light—to her face, desperation in his eyes.
“This is a truly terrible misunderstanding,” he said, “but night is upon us. Shall we go inside at least?”
The pleading in his voice made her nod, and she followed him silently inside. There was certainly nothing to be gained by standing on the castle’s doorstep as darkness descended.
The great double doors creaked as they opened, revealing a cavernous entryway that was as dark and cold as she had feared. From the outside, the edifice had looked lifeless, and inside it appeared no less so.
She tried to reassure herself that at least there were no fearsome beasts, but the shiver that rocked her made it hard to cling to any positivity. Was she really to sleep—to live—in such a place?
The bear still seemed concerned, but he moved quickly, his actions verging on frantic. Crossing to the mantelpiece over the vast and empty fireplace, he delicately lifted a silver bell, clasping the wooden handle in his jaws.
Shaking his head, he rang the bell, the sound echoing against the stone all around them. Instantly a roaring fire sprang to life in the dead fireplace, and all around her light bloomed as hundreds of candles began to glow.
Charlotte gasped, spinning to take in the whole entranceway. Filled with light and warmth as it now was, the space felt entirely different. Even welcoming.
But how was it possible? Even if the bear had been able to instantly start a large fire, it should have taken time to warm the air.
Her eyes fixed on the bell, and she spoke in reverent tones.
“Is that a godmother object?”
She had heard legends about such objects—gifted to worthy humans by the godmothers who served the High King, they were often passed down through generations.
“It is,” the bear said, although he still seemed distracted and hurried. “And a powerful one.”
“You have a godmother, then?” Charlotte asked, some of her earlier hope rekindling.
The bear hesitated before finally saying, “It wasn’t gifted directly to me. I…acquired it from someone else. I don’t know how old it is.”
Charlotte frowned. The tales she had heard included some that involved nefarious people twisting godmother objects to their own ends. Surely the bear was not such a person? His presence couldn’t fill her with such a sense of safety if he was.
Unless that was part of the enchantment that surrounded him.
She drew back, trembling as she realized yet again how isolated and alone she was. She didn’t even know how far or in what direction lay her home valley.
No, she thought miserably, not my home any longer. This is my home now.
It was a painful thought.
The bear had always been sensible of her moods before, but he didn’t notice this time, approaching her without regard to her new emotions.
“Who are you?” she gasped, needing answers. “If you are not a creature from the Palace of Light, how can you talk?”
The bear halted abruptly, shifting from side to side. Placing the bell carefully on the flagged floor in front of him, he opened his mouth as if to speak but ended up groaning instead.
“Please, just tell me,” she said, her voice shaking.
The bear glanced at one of the long windows that framed the doorway. “There isn’t time now. I will explain it to you later—it will be easier then anyway. For now, you should hurry and take this.” He gestured toward the bell with his head.
“The godmother object? You want me to take it?” Charlotte stared at him.
“Of course,” he said. “It’s my wedding gift to you. You need only ring it and anything you wish will appear. You can use it to turn this place into a comfortable home. Please feel free to make any changes to the castle that you desire.”
He glanced at the window again before muttering something hurried and dark. When he started to move, fresh horror filled Charlotte.
“But wait!” she cried, grasping for the first time that he meant to leave her. “Where are you going?”
“I’m sorry,” he growled, not looking back in her direction. “There is no more time. Use the bell, and you will be able to sleep in comfort. I will explain what more I can…later.”
“Wait! No! Stop!” she cried, but it was too late, he was already through one of the doors that opened off the entranceway.
Belatedly, she ran after him, pulling open the door that had swung closed in his wake. But although the door opened into a long corridor, he was nowhere in sight. He had already disappeared. Charlotte was truly alone.
She swayed for a moment, fearing her legs might give way. But despite herself, the warmth and light of the entranceway drew her back inside. Her eyes fell on the bell, discarded on the floor where they had been standing, and she hurried back to it.
When she reached it, she paused, gazing down at it. She couldn’t doubt it was a godmother object—not after seeing its powers displayed. But did she dare pick it up—claim it? Who was she to possess something so rare and valuable?
Princess Charlotte. The echo of the bear’s words made her chuckle, something she would have thought impossible only minutes before. Why shouldn’t she claim it, after all? She was mistress of a vast castle now—empty though it might be. The bear had said it was a wedding gift. If so, it was the only one she had received, and she would not spurn it.
Drawing a deep breath, she wrapped her hand around the wooden handle. It was smooth to the touch, the whole thing weighing less than she expected. She laughed at herself. Had she thought its value would increase its weight? It was a small thing and should be light.
Holding it carefully motionless, she considered the world of possibilities in the bear’s earlier declaration. By ringing this bell, she might have anything her heart desired.
Any material thing, an unwelcome voice whispered. It cannot create love for you or companionship.
She shook the thoughts away and considered what she wanted. She knew what her sisters would wish for. Gowns, jewels, chests of gold. Her mother might wish for a feast. Her father for sturdy walls.
Holding those thoughts in her mind, she rang the bell. Nothing happened. Or rather, nothing she could see. But she had been wishing for something far away. Was it possible the power of the bell worked at such a distance, and she had just gifted her family the bride price they had sought?
A vindictive part of her wanted to wish it away again, just in case. But for all her lingering resentment, she would gain nothing by wishing misery on her family. If the bell had done something for them—as impossible as that seemed—she would leave it be. Her thoughts were better spent on her own immediate needs.
Her eyes traveled the stone of the castle entryway. She had sturdy enough walls to keep out an invading army. And she doubted her ability to eat—not with her emotions in such turmoil. Fancy gowns and jewels would be equally wasted. Who was there here to see them?
She considered again. Her family’s wishes would do her no good. What did she want?
The answer came immediately. After everything that had happened, she longed for nothing so much as the comfort of her bed and blankets she could pull over her head. She wanted to collapse into a soft mattress and enjoy the oblivion of a few hours’ unconsciousness. Surely this strange new home would be easier to accept in the light of day.
Smiling at herself, she rang the bell. “My own room with a warm bed,” she said, knowing it wasn’t the sort of thing the bell could provide.
But to her astonishment, a door in the far wall swung immediately open, lights springing up in the corridor beyond it as candles flared into life along its length.
Charlotte hesitated for only a moment before picking up her discarded bundle and hurrying toward the door. Once in the corridor, she could see that the lit candles created a pathway, guiding her through the castle. She followed where they led until a second door swung open for her, creaking with a reminder that the castle was old and abandoned despite the lack of dust.
She paused in the doorway, peering inside. An enormous room emanated warmth and light. A large fireplace crackled with a cozy fire and deep, forest green carpet enticed her to step inside. The heavy brocade curtains were a lighter shade of green, while the green of the bedspread was enlivened with intricate gold embroidery. The curtains of the enormous four-poster were tied back with heavy gold cord and tassels, beckoning her to slip between the crisp white sheets.
“But it’s huge,” she gasped aloud as the door swung closed behind her. She had never seen or imagined such a large bed. “I’ll be lost in that!”
She glanced dubiously at the bell in her hand, but another look at the room made her discard the idea of attempting to use it again. The enchantment might have miscalculated the size of the bed, but everything else was perfect, and she didn’t want to risk changing anything.
Cautiously she placed the bell down on the walnut side table that was placed conveniently beside the bed. She didn’t want to risk ringing it by accident. What if the bell attempted to make something out of her confused thoughts?
Although her meager things seemed laughably out of place in the room, Charlotte unpacked her bundle, changing quickly into the long nightgown she had brought with her. The material felt rough against the softness of the sheets as she crawled between them, and she suspected she would soon be requesting new clothes from the bell.
But she would wait for the next day. Surely the bear would return in the morning, and she would have the chance to ask more specifically about how the bell worked.
Wistfully she considered how he had run from her. What had been so urgent that he needed to abandon her like that?
A memory popped into her head of words he had spoken to her previously. He had said that once she reached her new home, she might choose never to see him. Surely he didn’t think that was what she wanted? He didn’t mean to abandon her alone in this enormous place?
She shook off the thought. He had promised her an explanation, so he hadn’t left for good. She would have to hold on to that assurance until morning.
Sighing, she leaned over to blow out the candelabra sitting on the side table. She didn’t relish lying alone in the dark, but the fire in the hearth would provide enough light for reassurance, and she didn’t want to risk accidentally setting the bed curtains alight.
But the second the candle flames winked out, the room was plunged into complete darkness.
Charlotte gave a terrified cry, too startled to exercise restraint. Her heart pounded as she sat up in bed, trying unsuccessfully to peer into the black around her.
She told herself her reaction was unwarranted, but she wasn’t convinced. What might be lurking unseen in this strange place? And what had happened to the fire? She hadn’t made a request—she hadn’t even been holding the bell.
The bell! Grasping blindly with both hands, she knocked over the candlestick before she finally felt the curved shape of the bell.
“Start the fire again,” she gasped out, her fingers curled around the wooden handle as she made the bell peal out.
Nothing happened.
“Light the candles,” she said in growing desperation, ringing the bell louder.
Still nothing happened.
She could feel the tears gathering, her panic threatening to take over and send her blindly fleeing. But where to?
She could try to use the bell to wish herself out of this room and back in the entryway, but it no longer seemed to be working. And what if the lights had gone out there as well? At least here she was snug in a bed, and she knew the room was empty and the door closed. Could she bear to be in the dark in the vast emptiness of the entryway? Or worse—wandering lost among the castle corridors?
No, it was far better to remain where she was. And her eyes would adjust to the darkness any minute, and she would see it wasn’t as complete as she thought. There had to be traces of moonlight seeping around the curtains if nothing else.
But the minutes dragged out and nothing changed. No matter how closely Charlotte waved her hand in front of her face, she could see no flicker of movement. The darkness was absolute.
“It’s still better to remain here,” she whispered to herself. Morning would come eventually. Even the bell couldn’t change that.
And at least she was alone in her room. She had even seen inside the wardrobe when she was putting away her clothes.
She slowly lowered herself back down to lie flat. But just as her heart was slowing to a more normal rhythm, the door to the corridor creaked open.
Charlotte only just bit back her scream, clapping both hands to her mouth. She felt sure she should do something—get up and fight perhaps, although she had no idea what she was facing and would be more likely to end up tripping over the side table than intimidating the unseen creature.
At the very least, she should call out to whoever had opened the door—assuming it had not been the work of the bell. But instead, she disgraced herself. Primal terror overcame her, and she scrambled beneath the bedcovers.