PINECREST
Danae kept her head bowed, her heart beating faster than normal. The woman before her was cloaked in a simple gown, a veil shrouding her features, and a hood over her head.
The moon cast its cool glow, peeping through the curtains onto Danae's face. There was something different about the woman before her, the regal air shrouding her frame as she sat.
She couldn't mistake the high quality fabric that draped gracefully on the woman's body. Her gown, though modest in design along with the cloak over her head, had intricate patterns from its tailoring and subtle embellishments.
"Why are you here?" Danae's voice trembled slightly, her head still bowed as she tried to study the woman's eyes from the lamp in front of them
The woman hesitated before speaking, her voice soft yet carrying the heavy weight of urgency. "I need your help," she finally uttered.
Danae's brow furrowed, confusion written all over her face. "Help? What help could I possibly offer to… someone like you?" Her eyes were still fixed on the patterns of the visitor's cloak.
The disguised woman lowered her gaze as if picking her words gently in case someone was eavesdropping. "I'm in a precarious situation." She confessed, her voice laced with exasperation. "There are matters of great importance that require discretion and trust. And I believe you're someone I can trust."
A series of questions ran through her mind. She couldn't fathom why the Queen, someone who carried that much regal aura, would seek her assistance, an ordinary citizen. Yet she could feel the sincerity in the woman's plea.
"Your Majesty," Danae began as she addressed her guest, a flicker of realization dawning in her eyes. "Why are you here, in disguise, seeking help from someone like me?" She said softly, recognizing the vulnerability hidden behind the royal façade.
"Danae," the Queen began, "I come to you not as a ruler but as a mother in despair. The Crown Prince suffers."
Danae looked at her in surprise mixed with confusion. She wasn't a physician or anything along the line of work and wasn't even qualified to offer help to anyone not to talk of the Crown Prince. All she did was tell stories every day at the market square, make a few coins, and head back home.
"I don't understand what you're implying, Your Majesty."
"He's afflicted with a darkness that clouds his mind," she continued her voice trembling slightly with emotion. "An illness that no court physician or advisor can heal. The burden he carries… it's unbearable."
Danae still didn't understand. She sat up and folded her legs as she tried to process what she had just heard.
"But I'm not a physician or mage. I'm just a storyteller and I don't understand what you mean, Your Majesty." She explained.
"I know. I've heard of your gift," the Queen said, her eyes pleading for understanding. "Your stories. They hold a power that transcends mere words. They bring solace, hope, and understanding to troubled minds. I am certain and I believe you might hold the key to reaching my son."
Danae's mind whirled with disbelief. It was like she was in a dream. She'd never met the Crown Prince before nor seen what he looked like. Everybody knew it was the Queen who ruled the affairs of the kingdom on the side but had barely seen the Crown Prince ever since the King died.
Her storytelling was not even what she would call a job but something she did to keep herself busy whenever she went to the market. She was usually busy in her father's barn taking care of the horses.
"Your Majesty."
"Please, I beg of you. This is a request from a mother, I am not asking you this as your Queen."
Danae was quiet for a while. Thoughts ran through her head. What would she tell her father? How will she know how to help the Crown Prince, the next heir to the throne? What if he doesn't want her help?
"You don't have to worry about anything. All you have to do is do your work, tell him stories and things that'll make him get better." She pleaded.
"I will do everything in my power," Danae replied, her voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions within her. "I will weave tales of light and wisdom, seeking to reach the heart of the prince and alleviate his suffering."
"The soul of the kingdom relies on you Danae. I am so grateful." The Queen's eyes shimmered with gratitude and hope as she got up to leave.
Danae bowed as she watched the Queen get in the chariot and leave. Plenty of questions raced through her mind but why had she promised something she wasn't sure of?
She looked up to the sky as the full moon shone down, illuminating everywhere.
"I hope you know what you're doing, Danae. I really do." She said to herself and headed inside.
Danae maneuvered through the throngs of people in the bustling marketplace, leading the sturdy horse laden with baskets filled with fresh produce. Her steps were deft and purposeful as she waved and greeted the market people in their stalls.
"You're looking beautiful today Mrs Lucia!" She waved at the chubby woman arranging the kitchenware in her stall.
"You told me to, didn't you. Harold might give me all of his life savings when he sees me." She replied as the people around laughed.
"You bet he will," Danae said with a smile as she began to unload the baskets.
She looked around, ensuring that nobody sent by her father was watching her. Confirmed that the coast was clear, she tied the horse reins tight and headed for her usual storytelling spot.
The air buzzed with the hum of conversations and the clamor of merchants vying for attention, yet amidst the chaos, a few eager faces began to gather near Danae's spot. Their curious eyes and anticipatory smile shared a familiar understanding.
They sat, some stood, waiting for her to begin. She was good, it was like she could capture ethereal and divine realms at the same time. They waited for her to begin, hushing any noise or rattle.
"She knew she was face to face with someone she couldn't fix. The confusion yet unmatching confidence that suddenly overwhelmed her. Was she doing the right thing? Putting his fate in her hands when she didn't know what she was getting herself into…" Danae continued, grasping the attention of her audience.
She continued with her story until she noticed someone standing by the door. He was new and definitely not from around there. Everyone at the market square knew themselves. Although Emberlyn was a great and big kingdom, the people of Pinecrest town almost knew each other. It wasn't a little town per se, one could just say that they had a lot in common.
Danae rounded off her tale, leaving them on a cliffhanger as usual and of course making some money. The people got up with mixed feelings, sad that they had to go on with the day's activities and eager for Danae to finish with her captivating story the next day.
"Thank you very much everyone!" She said sweetly as she jiggled her purse. The turn up was better than the previous day, she jiggled the purse again before keeping it in the inner pockets of her skirt.
She turned swiftly, looking left and right before going out. As much as Danae enjoyed her little market square fame, her father was against telling stories.
He saw it as idle work, especially for a woman. The only tales he fancied that much were war stories and stories of merchants, any other thing aside that was rubbish to him.
"A woman should know her bounds." He would always say.
"I've got an apple for you Leon. Thank you for being patient." She smiled as she fed the waiting horse an apple.
Danae always made sure to time her story times. After getting to the market to make deliveries, she would spend at least fifteen to twenty minutes, or sometimes more, depending on her stories, and make extra cash to save up. Her father wouldn't suspect at all because she was always back before an hour was up.
"Pretty sneaky."
She heard the voice say behind her as she quickly turned to see who it was.
She had her hands around his neck and kicked his leg so he would fall on his knee. If it was one of her father's men, she would knock him unconscious rather than face the possible consequences she might face if she got dragged home. It was not her first time, she knew what she was doing.
"Ouch, ouch… I can't breathe."
"Oh, you bet you can't. He sent you right?" She asked, her hand still wrapped around his neck as she pressed her foot on his leg.
"I… it's … you're holding too tight." He said, tapping her arm to free himself. "Who is he?" he asked, wheezing as he tried to breathe.
"Don't worry. You're not gonna die…" she said and bent to look at her captive. "And why are you asking who he is? My dad sent you, didn't he?"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
She released him immediately and moved away from him. Shock and fear were written all over her expression.