Page 2 of The Masked Princess

Annalise shook her head and thought instead of the other, more practical letter on her desk. Two years before, she had given the Guild of Weavers her patronage and arranged for the Crown to subsidize new bulk purchases of wool for the guild apprentices to practice their weaving with, on the conditions that the blankets created would be donated to the poor, widows, and orphans of Dovea. She’d received a letter the day before from the guildmaster, who’d written that the wool merchants had banded together and raised the prices on their fleeces. He’d continued on to add that he could not, in good conscience, purchase the necessary supplies for the program due to the new exorbitant cost.

“I think we’ll stop by the market after paying a visit to the Guild of Healers. I want to remind the wool sellers that they shouldn’t upcharge Master Fenris just because I’m a patron of the Guild of Weavers. If they’re going to insist on being unreasonable, I’ll send someone directly to the farms to shear the sheep and cut out the middleman.”

“Of course, Your Highness,” Priscilla said.

They crossed from the Upper District of Dovelan into the Middle District, where the guilds and wealthy merchants lived. As the number of people moving about their daily business grew, Annalise looked back and reassured herself that the usual two guards accompanied her and Priscilla.

When Annalise was first cursed, her father declared that he’d give a noble’s title and land as a reward to whoever could break it. His only condition was that whoever made the attempt would need to put their own life on the line to personally test their cure.

It was a necessary rule. Ever since her mother’s passing, anyone who touched Annalise would suffer immense pain. If they didn’t move away immediately, they’d die a terrible death.

At first, the promise of riches and power drew scholars, healers, and mages from all over. After two years, no one had succeeded. After seven, no one even came to examine her anymore.

For the most part, the citizens of Dovea understood the risks and gave her a wide berth, although it didn’t mean she could relax entirely. Sometimes, people new to town would want to get a closer look at the cursed princess. Very rarely she encountered the rare person of too little intelligence and too much bravado who believed her curse was exaggerated and wished to prove their courage and intellect to the world by touching her, only to find that her curse was indeed real, and that they’d made a terrible mistake. Eventually, the king decreed she must take guards with her whenever she left the castle in order to prevent any more unnecessary deaths.

Still, she took precautions. At first, she’d only worn gloves—her mother had popularized dresses with long sleeves and a high neckline, so the addition of gloves prevented even the most accidental of touches. However, after a tragedy that occurred when Annalise was eighteen, she’d worn her ivory mask every time she stepped outside of her chambers, effectively covering herself from head-to-toe and leaving only her ears and hair free.

They reached the Guild of Healers, a building of hewn stone surrounded by large herb gardens. It had two parts—the outermost, which was open and airy with its many windows, and the inner keep. In times of siege or attack, the wounded, infirm, and young were brought to the guild where the walls of the inner building were thick enough to protect all who sheltered there.

Guildmaster Trenk received the herbs with much thankfulness and offered to give them a tour on what the novices were learning. Annalise declined, but agreed to visit another day, and she and Priscilla continued on their way to the Dovelan marketplace.

“Do you think those smarmy merchants will give you any trouble today?” Priscilla asked.

Annalise shook her head. “They may protest and squirm a little, but trouble? No, I don’t think so. The favor of the Crown carries enough weight that I doubt they’d want to risk its displeasure on something so trivial.”

“Perhaps we should leave the castle more, Your Highness,” Priscilla said.

“You think so? Why?” Annalise asked.

“You always act like a real crown princess when we do. It’s good to see you taking charge.” Priscilla looked over her shoulder at the stone castle just barely visible over the nearby roofs. “When we’re behind those walls, it’s as though you hide behind your own, ones that may keep others out, but that also keep you in.”

“It would be nice to get out and see the people more…” Annalise trailed off. After a few steps, she shook her head. “No, it’s far too dangerous. We’ve been very fortunate so far, but that doesn’t mean we won’t run into trouble eventually, and I won’t risk the safety of my subjects just because I wanted some fresh air.”

Priscilla frowned but dipped her head, and they walked on in silence.

When Annalise stepped into the town square, she breathed in the smells of freshly baked bread, roasting meat, and mulled wine. The bleating of sheep and cries of vendors selling their wares rang over the dull roar of the crowd. On market days, merchant stalls packed the large square to near bursting. Dovea was a prosperous kingdom—blessed by the Goddess with fertile rolling hills, verdant forests, and control of the only mountain pass on the peninsula; they had a reputation for the finest wools and cloth, deep support of the guilds, and plentiful opportunity to trade.

One of Annalise’s guards led the way through the crowd toward the wool merchants. The Guild of Weavers had several preferred vendors, but Annalise suspected that when they’d heard the Crown was subsidizing the purchase of wool, the merchants only saw the soft glint of gold coins and didn’t think much beyond boosting their profits. Granted, the guild was quite wealthy, but the Crown’s donations were to subsidize the training of new members, and the blankets they wove as part of their training went to poor Doveans around the kingdom. Princess Annalise had been extremely proud of the plan when she’d come up with it two years prior—she firmly believed that, in a prosperous kingdom, no one should spend the winter shivering or worrying about hypothermia because of thin cloaks.

Fortunately, the wool vendors soon realized the error of their ways when the cursed crown princess showed up to their stalls with her lady’s maid and two guards in tow. The short round man who seemed to be acting as their leader was overly obeisant and prim at first, pretending like he didn’t understand the problem. However, as Annalise ran her gloved hands over his wares, he shifted uncomfortably, and when she took off one of her gloves while detailing why she was so disappointed in him and his peers, his eyes practically bugged out of his head.

When Annalise finally said that she wanted to ensure that no further misunderstanding occurred, the merchant almost tripped over his own tongue to assure her there would be no further trouble.

She smiled and pulled her bare hand away from where it hovered just above the fine navy cloth. While she knew he couldn’t see her expression, she’d made her voice as expressive as possible to offset the lack of visual cues from her mask.

“Thank you, Wilhem. I’m glad to hear that we could come to an agreement.”

As they walked away from the stalls, Priscilla chuckled and shook her head. “That was very nicely done, Your Highness. At first, I thought he was going to collapse under the weight of his self-important pontificating. The removal of your glove was an especially nice touch.”

“Thank you, Priscilla. He surprised me; for a moment, I thought he was actually going to let me touch his wares.” Annalise smiled.

The effects of her curse didn’t extend to secondary exposure, and her stroking the merchant’s wares would have had no more physical effect than that of a normal woman. The general populace knew the limitations of her curse—servants liked to talk, and Priscilla did her laundry with no precautions or ill effects. However, Annalise was well aware that while common knowledge was one thing, it was another thing entirely when a woman with a deadly touch ran her hands all over the expensive merchandise.

They were halfway through the market when a commotion broke out—several squealing pigs had gotten loose and knocked over a crate of chickens. The entire market descended into chaos as some tried to capture the pigs, others the chickens, and everyone else tried to get away. In the hustle and bustle, some people weren’t paying attention, and for the first time in her life Annalise found herself jostled around. To make matters worse, as the crowd grew more agitated, Priscilla was separated from the group.

Thankfully, Annalise’s guards recovered quickly and made a path for her to the wall of the nearest building. She stepped into an alleyway and waved them off. “I’m fine now. No one will bother me here. Go, help the others,” she said as calmly as she could, trying not to think of what might have happened if her gloves or sleeves had slipped.

With a nod, the guards plunged back into the crowd.