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Part 20
Willow stretched leisurely, a smile on her face. While she normally enjoyed seeing her friends off to work every morning, it was nice to be able to sleep in and wake up slowly. She sat up, wondering with whom she would be spending the day. They had been discussing it the night before, but she could not remember how it had been resolved. Cordelia was supposed to have stayed, but due to the approaching ball, the Queen needed her assistance in designing a new gown. Which also meant that Jesse’s services were required. The visiting nobles who still remained at the palace needed entertainment, so Xander could not stay away. With so many dignitaries, the royal army had to work extra shifts, Giles had stayed the day before, and tomorrow was Anya’s turn. So it seemed that everyone was needed at the palace, and despite Willow’s protests that she would surely be safe alone for one day, they assured her that they would work out a way for one of them to be there.
After slowly dressing, Willow made her way to the main rooms of the cottage to greet her companion for the day. She hoped it was Giles. He had been telling her of the history of Sunnydale the day before, and had been interrupted by the arrival of the others in the midst of an intriguing story involving a curse on the prince. But after glancing around the room, she surmised that Giles was not there after all. Even if he’d stepped out for a moment, as whoever was staying with her must have done, his mug of steaming tea would have been left on the table, awaiting his return. Willow searched the room for clues as to who hadn’t gone to the castle, but found none. Xander’s breakfast dishes were stacked in the sink, by Anya, of course. Cordelia’s fabric samples and dress designs were packed away neatly. Jesse had taken the Queen’s newest dress with him to the palace, so it was not draped across a chair for him to work on. And neither Buffy’s nor Faith’s swords hung by the door. Even the bundles of herbs that Anya had been tying together the previous night were no longer in a basket by her chair.
“Maybe Giles is drinking his tea outside for a change,” she said to herself, opening the door and looking for the historian. “Or maybe Anya is gathering more herbs in the garden,” she continued, walking around the house to her plots of vegetables and late-blooming flowers. But just as the inside, the yard around held none of her roommates. “Or maybe they decided I was right and could, in fact, be left alone for a day without getting myself killed.”
Meanwhile, Prince William was returning home from his morning ride in the woods. Recalling the girl who looked like Willow, he decided to stop at the cottage he’d passed earlier to ask about her. If nothing else, he could meet the Princess of Rosenberg and satisfy his father on the matter. He trotted his horse out of the woods and turned on to the road when he came upon a young woman who, though dressed as a commoner, carried herself as a noblewoman. As he approached her, he reigned in his horse and dismounted to greet her.
“Good day, Milady.”
“And to you as well, Milord.”
“What brings you out so far so early this morning?”
“’Tis not early, but ‘tis late. I am on my way from the castle at Rosenberg to the palace here in Sunnydale.”
“And for what purpose do you come so far? To bring us of the fruits of your fair country?” William gestured to the basket she carried.
“Yes and no, Milord. I do bring fruits, and a message from the Queen. They are both for her daughter, the Princess. She is here in Sunnydale, is she not?”
“It is rumored so.”
“You do not know?”
“I have been told by others that she does reside
here in this country, but I have not seen her for myself. I was on
my way to visit her now, in fact. Will you allow me to escort you?”
“I would be delighted.”
“It will be a pleasure and an honor, Lady… How rude of me. Offering my services when I do not even know your name.”
“Darla, Milord. I am... er... was the Princess' Lady-in-waiting. And in payment for your kindness, may I offer you something from my basket? The orchards in Sunnydale were truly blessed this year.”
“Thank you, Lady Darla. I have heard much of the enchanted groves.”
“En…enchanted, Milord?”
“Not really,” William laughed at the fear on Darla’s face. Stories come, as they do, telling the wonders of the gardens and fruit trees that bloom only once a year, and always on the same day. And of the fruit so perfect that no spices are needed for pies.”
“Oh, those enchantments. I assure you that they are not true. Nearly all the plants produce harvest normally. And our cook has always added spice to our pies.” She smiled up at the prince, offering him the basket. “Which would you like to sample?”
“I have always had a fondness for apples,” he said, reaching for the ruby-colored fruit. Darla swatted his hand away.
“No! I mean, please, Milord, excuse me. That apple is especially for the Princess. It comes from a tree in her garden, and is her favorite above all other fruits.”
“Then by all means, she shall have it.”
“Would you care for an orange instead?”
“I would be delighted.” He repeated her words
from earlier, accepting the fruit she offered. He peeled and quickly
devoured a slice. “It is truly the best I’ve tasted, milady.
Your country is very fortunate.” He stumbled and yawned as the magic
held within it was released. “Forgive me, Milady. I do not
seem to be myself right now. I seem to be…” William’s voice trailed
off as he fell to the ground, fast asleep.
“That’s it, young prince.” Sheila’s face appeared from behind the façade. “Sleep. It won’t last for long, but by the time you wake, even you will be too late to save Willow.” Resuming the features of Darla, the queen turned and made her way down the road to the cottage where Willow waited.
“Willow…” William murmured in his sleep, unable to
do anything else.
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