The Ten Lost Princesses: Ivy Thorn series, #2.5

If you haven’t read any of the Ivy Thorn series yet, I highly recommend you go back and read:

The Fairy Tale Trap (book 1)

The Fairy Tale Twist (book 2)

This book, The Ten Lost Princesses, is a companion novella to The Fairy Tale Twist, and follows some of the characters that were introduced in book 2.

If you choose not to read book 2 before continuing, or if it’s just been a really long time since you read it, here are some things you should know:

●  Ivy Thorn is a teenager from our world who sometimes finds herself trapped in fairy tales until the tale is over.

●  This fairy tale is The Twelve Dancing Princesses.

●  Felicity is one of the twelve dancing princesses. So is Ivy.

●  All of the other princesses have left the palace, one by one, to run away with a handsome prince. Now only Felicity and Ivy remain. Felicity has never really cared for her prince (his name is Boeuf) and she has felt conflicted throughout the story.

●  A sadistic pixie is in charge of the fairy tale, and is responsible for Ivy being here in the first place. There is a female pixie, too. She dresses all in white and is responsible for a teenage boy from our world, named Riker, who is also stuck in this fairy tale.

PROLOGUE

I feel really guilty about leaving people behind, especially when I’m leaving them in a catastrophic mess of a fairy tale. And The Twelve Dancing Princesses was definitely a mess when I left it. Even though ten of the twelve princesses were missing and Felicity had a sprained ankle, I skipped off happily to duel a demonic pixie from another dimension.

I’m a horrible person.

But I went back. I talked to Felicity, Shaw, and even a pixie or two until I got the details of what happened after I left. I’m pretty sure I’ve got the whole story, and since everyone else is off doing their own thing, I’m left with the job of writing it all down.

So here’s what happened to those ten missing princesses, and Shaw and Felicity, as told by yours truly.

Ivy Thorn

CHAPTER  1

Felicity’s head pounded as soon as she woke up. It must be after lunch time already. She sat up and looked out her window, blinking in the harsh sunlight. Another arc of pain lanced across her forehead as she tried to remember her dream. That gorgeous stranger had been in her dreams for the last few nights. Two nights ago, he’d been worried about something. Last night, the blond stranger had been excited about something, but Felicity couldn’t keep the dreams straight. The details disappeared as soon as she opened her eyes. Her temples throbbed and the image of the man in uniform faded from her mind.

Felicity was safe at home, in the palace. The smells of various flowers filled the air, reminding her that her sisters were near. This entire wing of the palace was decorated with 12 different kinds of flowers—one for each princess. Some might find the floral smell to be overwhelming, but to Felicity, it smelled like family. She sat up in her bed, pushing the silky sheets to the side. As she pushed her long waves of blond hair away from her face, Felicity cringed at the new pair of shoes that waited by the door. Her feet ached at the thought. Not because of the new shoes. She wouldn’t wear those. No, Felicity would stash those particular slippers into her closet, along with the other dozen or so pairs of dancing shoes that had appeared—one pair every morning—at her door.

Instead, Felicity liked to torture herself with painful high-heeled shoes. Apparently Boeuf, the muscled man she danced with every night, despised it when women were taller than him. Felicity needed about four inches to pull that off. Unfortunately, Boeuf had been frustratingly patient with her.

Why couldn’t she have been paired with a more pleasant man? It didn’t even have to be a prince. The man from her dream hadn’t carried himself like royalty. He’d been a bit older than Boeuf, and strong, but with a mustache and kind eyes. What had he said to her in the dream?

Another flash of pain pushed Felicity to her feet. She got dressed, but didn’t put the heels on yet. She needed a walk. And food. That might help her headache, right?

But who was she kidding? Felicity’s head had been punishing her for several days, now. It was always worst first thing in the morning. She wandered along the pink runner carpet and tried to focus on something besides the pain behind her eyes.

Felicity had always liked the flowers in these halls. The servants made a point of putting fresh arrangements out every day, always the same type and in the same order. The princess walked past some long-stemmed white roses that made her think of her sister Charity: deep, passionate, and as strong-willed as her identical twin Prudence. Felicity missed her already.

The next arrangement of flowers were yellow. Felicity could already see them up ahead as she shuffled down the hallway, but she couldn’t tell what type of flower until she got closer. Black-eyed susans, a personal favorite. The princess laughed out loud. How could she have forgotten? Same type of flowers every day, and she couldn’t remember her favorites?

Felicity’s temples throbbed again as she tried to recall the next arrangement. Roses, susans, then...

She couldn’t remember. Not the type of flower, not the color, not even the vase. Suddenly the back of her head ached like something had hit the back of her skull from the inside. Felicity closed her eyes.

Just don’t think about the flowers. Or the stranger. Think about something else.

Felicity stared down at the carpet as she walked over it. The carpet was soft under the thin flats. If she dragged her feet, they made a light whooshing sound as they brushed against the grain of the carpet. The pain lessened.

Ivy was the only sister that Felicity had left. The rest had disappeared with their true loves, eloping one (or two) at a time. But how strange Ivy had been acting lately!

(Note from Ivy: Honestly, I don’t know what she meant when she told me this. I was acting the way I always did. But keep in mind that I was an only child. Felicity thought I was her sister. Her real sister, who she’d grown up with. Something about the way the fairy tale was set up had her convinced that she’d known me my whole life, and now I was acting stranger than how she remembered me.)

Then again, how did Ivy normally act? What was normal for the one sister who didn’t have a dainty nose, or long, blonde hair?

Unfortunately, that particular thought ended quickly when more pain heaped upon her. Tears pressed against her eyes, but Felicity set her jaw and pressed on, determined to fix this memory problem. Somehow.

She approached a stone entryway, though she couldn’t remember what room lay one the otherside. Stone figured guarded the open space. They looked like fat angels. Short, chubby little children with bird’s wings. Suddenly, a feeling of loss swam through her, consuming Felicity, and she didn’t even understand why. Her throat tightened and her vision blurred with tears that just seemed to flow without any notice. She wiped her cheeks and inhaled through her nose, staring down the stone cherubs that flanked the doorway.

Felicity needed a quiet spot in the palace. Somewhere private and out of the way, where no one would think to look for her for a long time. It wasn’t hard. The castle was practically empty, now that the other princesses had left.

She found a little side hallway with a wooden bench. The stone walls were lit from a window above her eye level, bathing the stone in white light. Rich red and purple carpet ran to the end of the little alcove, ending in a blank wall. That was fine with her. Felicity didn’t need a tapestry staring down at her. She wanted to feel alone, because that’s what she was. The wooden bench offered enough room for her to sit between the beautifully-stitched cushions. Someone had embroidered them in gold silk thread, but she didn’t look at them long enough to notice the design. Felicity sat between the plump cushions and closed her eyes. She tried to empty her mind, but her thoughts kept bringing a mental image to her. A scene from a former life, it seemed. This felt like a memory, but Felicity couldn’t remember when this had taken place.

In her mind’s eye, she saw swirls of lavender curtains, blowing in the breeze, smooth marble floors interrupted only by rich, purple carpets. Felicity knew this room. The ballroom in this very palace was the room of choice for parties, gatherings, and of course, royal balls and galas.

Felicity’s memory, if that’s what it was, was one of happiness. She stood in that room and had been elated. Deliriously happy and at peace, but she couldn’t remember why.

As soon as the edges of the headache threatened, Felicity stopped trying to remember. Instead, she held onto the images she had and let her mind fill in the gaps. She felt like she’d been pushing on a door, trying to open it. But now she imagined holding the door open with her foot, just trying not to lose what she already had. Slowly, the door began to open on its own. A man stood in front of her, looking to her in adoration. But Felicity had never had a beau before. Who would have danced with her here? Who had brought her to the window?

The curtain billowed around them, screening them from the other guests. The man reached behind her head and pulled another piece of fabric from behind her. This fabric was white and nearly see-through. He’d brought it up over Felicity’s head and let it fall behind his own head so both their faces were underneath the sheer cloth. And he kissed her. Felicity had laughed and kissed him back.

The princess’s head cracked with sharp pain,