Taking the white box with a bright pink ribbon wrapped around it out of her hands, I place it on the bed and lift the top. An envelope with my name neatly scrolled across the front rests amongst the tissue paper, and I instantly open it and unfold the note inside, reading out loud.
For our dear princess on her day of birth. May all your dreams come true.
I smile as I begin pulling back the wrapping and am stunned at the simple, yet elegant, chiffon dress as I lift it out. It’s a stunning mix of gold, pink, and light purple gradient throughout and flows to the floor.
“Oh, Mother. It’s gorgeous.” Placing the dress on the bed, I stride towards her for a warming hug. “Thank you. I’ll wear it tonight.”
“You’re so welcome, darling. I’ll see you downstairs.” Leaving with a kiss on my cheek, I turn to see Callista; her eyes have gone white. “Calli, what are you seeing?” I whisper. She doesn’t have visions often, and normally only as things are about to become weird.
“Get dressed, Arianna. Stefan is going to call for you soon,” is all she says as she exits the room as well.
I wish the people surrounding me would be a bit more honest about the way life revolves around me. I never know about anything until the occasion arises. I barely get to make a decision without someone else contradicting me.
Another knock on the door has me dropping the dress back into the box and calling out, “I’ll be right down, Papa!”
“How’d you know it was me?” he replies with a laugh, understanding exactly how I know.
Walking to my dresser, I grab a pair of jean shorts, the fuzzy socks I enjoy wearing around the castle, and a loose off-the-shoulder sweater. After getting dressed, I style my hair in a loose braid off to the side of my head and brush my teeth.
Before I’m even down the stairwell of my tower, I hear masculine voices conversing in the den and halt to listen before entering.
“Mr. McCall, we have a problem here. Teenage girls have been going missing for years, but we always just suspected they were runaways. However, over the last three months, there have been more than one hundred individuals in all of Graeline that have vanished without a trace.” My father sounds terrified. I knew there was trouble, but I had no idea it was so serious.
“Shit. That’s a lot. Do you have proof that they’re being taken?” the strange voice questions.
“Not technically. But years ago, there was a curse placed on our land.” He sounds so sad.
“A curse?” The man sounds skeptical. I see Callista in the kitchen and wave her over when she notices me. Peeking around the corner, I realize Papa is on speakerphone with this man.
“What?” Calli whispers.
“Tell me something about the person on the phone with Papa,” I beg of her. If he thinks this man can help us, then I’ll do anything I have to, to get him here.
“His nickname is Apollo.” She smiles triumphantly after a moment.
Entering the room, I interrupt the conversation. “Apollo, my name is Arianna, and if my father says we need help, then we need it. You can’t ignore our pleas.” My father’s eyes widen as I speak.
“How the fuck do you know that name?” he spits out. I grin.
“Language, Apollo. After all, I am the princess of Graeline.” Papa shakes his head at me, the side of his mouth quirking upward.
“I don’t give a fuck who you are. How the hell do you know that name?” he growls, and a shiver races down my spine.
Sitting in front of my father’s desk, I turn the phone to face me and lean closer as I speak. “My best friend is a mage,” I inform him, noticing the way his breathing intensifies. I close my eyes and imagine veins throbbing in his neck.
“A mage?” he scoffs.
“Like a witch, only better. She can see the future; she can cast spells. She speaks to the creatures of our land, and for the last eight years, we have been under duress. Please, Apollo, help us.”
Silence greets my request for a full minute before he speaks.
“I’ll be there in the morning.” The phone line goes dead, and I’m left slightly breathless.
What was that?
Asher
Graeline.
I know the name. The rumors. The mystery surrounding the small island country between Ireland and Scotland, but what I don’t remember is anything about a princess. When King Stefan had called, I was shocked to learn of his suspicions but unsurprised that such a small country has been targeted.
Human trafficking is likely the problem, and because of their lack of resources, they haven't been prepared, nor will they be able to fight back. The best course of action is infiltration into whatever organization has decided to target the sovereign nation.
Booting up my computer, I should research who the top dog is in regard to trafficking in the UK and Eastern Europe. I need to get in contact with Interpol to see if they have any active investigations that they would suspect for the attacks on Graeline.
Instead, I search out Princess Arianna of Graeline. She sounded young, her voice soft yet whimsical. But she also seemed sad. The suffering of her people is affecting her on a grand scale. When my search doesn’t produce the results I want, I seek out photos of her parents. Stefan and Leah are in the news often, speaking of peace and the climate situation. They know they’re a small spec on the radar within the world council, but that doesn’t stop them from pursuing change.
And there she is…
Zooming in on the photo of the elusive princess with her parents and a woman standing slightly behind them, I sit back and memorize every inch of her features.
Long blonde hair that falls in soft waves down her back and shoulders.
Bright green eyes. A color I’ve only ever seen in paintings.
Her plump light pinks lips are curled up in a half-smile, like she found something amusing. The way she holds her body slightly turned away from the media’s flashing cameras speaks of shyness.
It’s her eyes that keep drawing me back, though. They’re full of wonder and curiosity. She has a driving need to explore the world, and I feel like I’m just the man to show it to her.
A ringing phone breaks my concentration. Staring down at the screen of my cell phone, I see Matthew “Ares” Norbury’s name flashing.
“Yeah?” I bark as I put him on speaker.
“Grumpy today, Apollo?” he jokes, which doesn’t happen often. Ares is a cold-blooded soldier; one I wouldn’t turn my back on if I were on his bad side. There’s no doubt that he’d stab it with the sharpest blade.
“What do you want, Ares?” I’m not in the mood for his shit. Not when I have royalty to investigate.
“Honestly?” My eyes roll. “I haven’t a fucking clue. I’m not even sure I meant to call you.” His voice is filled with confusion.
An idea strikes. “You busy?”
“Nope.”
“What do you know about human trafficking abroad?” Ares always has a hand dipped in something.
“Primarily run by the English right now. There’s one guy in London, Judas Willows. He runs a particularly cruel operation. They steal young kids from small countries and sell them to some of the meanest sons of bitches on the planet.”
I fucking hate being right. “Got any contacts on the inside?”