Carmen Ferreiro-Esteban - Two Moon Princess

“I guess Don Julián was right,” she said and smiled.

I jumped forward at the implications of her words. “Mother, did you send him to me?”

“No, Princess. I didn’t send Don Julián to you. Well, not exactly. Don Julián came to say goodbye this morning. He asked about you. I told him that the war had changed you, that you had become a lady. ‘But is she happy?’ he persisted, and I had to admit that you weren’t, that you were still distressed by your experience. So I told him you still needed time to heal. He insisted that you would never heal if you remained here, that you had to go to California. He was so adamant that when he asked my consent to talk with you, I agreed. Now I see that he was right. You do want to leave.”

“I’m sorry, Mother. I . . .”

“I understand, Princess. You are who you are. Nobody, not even you, can change that. But I want you to remember that you are a lady, indeed. You could have run away tonight. Instead you came to me. Now Princess Andrea, if you want to go, you have my permission. But before you go, one more question, Princess. What are you going to tell Don Andrés?”

Tell Father? I had not planned to tell him anything. Father would never agree to let me go. He had warned me already he would banish me forever if I left again.

I shook my head. “I have no time, Mother. Lua will rise soon and—”

“I see. You have not changed after all,” Mother said, and her voice was hard, but there was laughter in her eyes. “I guess you give me no choice: I will have to ask him to give you his permission myself.” Pulling me to her, she hugged me tightly. “I’m going to miss you, Princess.”

“I will miss you, too, Mother,” I whispered back.

I was smiling as I rode on Flecha across the baileys toward the massive tower of the gatehouse. What was there for me to fear now? The gate was open, the drawbridge down, and the sentries, smartly dressed in blue and silver, seemed more like decorative figures than real soldiers. But when the guards saw me they came brusquely to attention, and crossing their shiny spears, they blocked my way.

“Hold it!” one of them said, his voice a hollow impersonal grunt under his helmet.

Flecha reared and neighed in anger. “Step aside,” I yelled to be heard over the loud clank of metal against stone.

The men did not move. “You cannot leave the castle on your own, Princess Andrea. King’s orders.”

“The orders have been canceled!” I insisted in my most authoritative tone.

The guards stood their ground. “I’m sorry, Princess,” the same voice said, “but you must wait here until I get the king’s confirmation.”

Wait? I could not wait! To the west, the sun was already sinking into the ocean. If I wanted to make it to the New World tonight, I had to leave now.

As if reading my mind, Flecha lunged forward, and when the soldiers jumped to one side to avoid being crushed under her hooves, she dashed through the gate.

Followed by shouts of “Alert! To arms!” we galloped away.

By the time I reached the end of the drawbridge, I could already hear the sound of hooves behind me. The soldiers had not wasted any time. Having a host of Suavian soldiers garrisoned outside the castle walls probably had something to do with this. I had chosen the wrong day to leave the castle without the King’s consent. I pressed Flecha’s flanks, urging her forward.

My plan was to reach the limit of the forest before my pursuers caught up with me. Once there, I would turn west toward the Forbidden Lands, hoping the soldiers would lose my tracks, not expecting me to head that way. But the sound of thundering hooves alerted me that the soldiers were steadily gaining on me. I would never make it to the trees in time.

Despite my efforts, the soldiers closed on me. Soon I was surrounded. I reined in Flecha and turned to face their leader that, by the crossed spears embroidered on his blue surcoat, I realized was Don Gonzalo, my former instructor from my days as a page.

I nodded to him, and just as I placed my right hand over my heart to acknowledge I was surrendering, a piercing yelp of trumpets swept from the castle ramparts. Two short calls and then a pause before the call repeated itself. My heart jumped to my throat as I recognized the summons. Father was calling his men back.

As the sound died in the distance, Don Gonzalo raised his arm in salute and, wheeling his horse around, shouted a brief order at his men. As one, the soldiers turned and followed him back to the castle, their blue-and-white uniforms soon nothing but a speck of color against the dried brown of the autumn bracken.

With an exhilarating cry of triumph, I bent over Flecha. “We did it, Flecha! We did it again! We are free!”

Flecha neighed and pawed the air with her front hooves. And then at my command, she galloped west toward the secret path that led to the Cove of the Dead.

The sun had already disappeared into the ocean when we came to the boulders where I had once hidden from Tío Ramiro. To reach the steps carved in the cliffs that would take me to the arch, I would have to walk from there.

One hand over Flecha’s neck, the other holding my skirts, I slid to the ground.

“Goodbye, Flecha,” I whispered as I stroked her gently.

Flecha did not move. Kicking the ground with her hind legs, she rubbed her muzzle against my hands looking for a treat.

“Easy, Flecha, easy. I have nothing for you. Eh! Wait a minute. What have you got? Give me that back. Now!”

After a frenzied fight, I retrieved from her mouth the paper she had stolen from my sleeve. It was only when I saw the stamp pressed on the red wax—the rising sun over the horizon, the seal of Alvar—that I remembered the note Don Alfonso had passed to me in the ballroom.

I stretched the paper, now all wrinkled and wet with saliva, against Flecha’s saddle, and after breaking the seal, rushed through the unfamiliar handwriting. When I reached the signature, my hands jerked back as if they had touched fire. It was Don Julián’s.

I blinked and waited for the words to stop swaying.

Princess Andrea,

I am leaving tonight for the New World. I would be honored if you came with me.

Doña Jimena has given her consent,although she insists you will not want to leave. But I cannot believe you have forgotten how much that world once meant to you.

I will wait for you by the oak tree where you met my brother. I beg you to come. The thought of never seeing you again hurts me too much to even consider.

Yours,

As I read, Don Julián’s strange behavior in the garden played back in my mind, taking on a new meaning. He must have assumed when he first saw me by the oak tree that I had agreed to go with him. His anger at my refusal made sense now.

Why hadn’t Don Alfonso told me his brother was waiting for me? I guess he was having too much fun playing with my feelings. At the memory of Don Alfonso’s mocking face, the desire to return to the castle and kill him with my bare hands was overwhelming. But I remembered my sister Margarida and her incomprehensible love for him and let it go.

I patted Flecha’s flank again. “Go, Flecha, go.”

Flecha stared at me, pleading with her big limpid eyes.

I shook my head. “I’m sorry, Flecha, but you can’t come.”

With a loud neigh of reproach, Flecha turned and cantered away.

I ran along the narrow ledge—loose gravel flying under my satin slippers, pebbles lashing at my spoiled feet—until the path came to an end.

Down below, the ocean had once more claimed the stretch of land that was the Cove of the Dead, and only the arch, a naked rock like an island dressed in foam, was still visible. From where I stood at the top of the cliffs, I could see the waves breaking against the mouth of the cave. I hesitated. The prospect of getting to the arch across the water was not a pleasant one, since I still could not swim. But waiting for the tide to recede was not an option. Lua would be rising any moment now, and I would lose my chance to cross if I did not make it to the cave soon.