The Royal Wolf and Hades' Daughter

Chapter 2 - Metamorphosis

The first time Prince Samuel shifted, he was going through puberty. It was not a complete transformation – he just felt different, but that was also putting it mildly. He was frightened at how bent his back had seemed and at how pain seemed to vibrate on every bone in his body. He ran to his parents’ chambers, knocking furiously.

“Mother, Father! Look at me! I think I am becoming a hunchback,” he had screamed, eyes wide, hands grabbing his hair in shock.

His mother went to him. Queen Soraya looked impassive at first, but Samuel recognized that expression on her face. She was trying not to show her feelings: tight-lipped, jaw-clenched, and lashes fluttering. She went to her 12-year-old and checked that his back was, indeed, bent. The queen turned to her husband as if in a silent plea.

King Adrian went to his wife and child to see what was going on. His hands went to Samuel’s back and started rubbing as if to comfort his son.

“You will be fine, Samuel,” his father said gently. His hands were cool on the prince’s back. The child knew that his father was using power on him as he felt more relaxed with each deep breath. Despite feeling better, Samuel spied his mother’s eyes widening, with fear? He was not sure. She glanced at the window as if trying to see what was outside without alerting him. But Samuel already knew what she was looking for.

The moon.

It was bright and full that night.

His parents let him stay in their room for hours. Samuel vowed that he would not tell his youngers about what happened. He was the oldest. So, he should not be running to their parents that night. His nurse would probably be looking for him now, but she was also used to his sleepwalking. If that were the case, it would not have been the first time.

The prince found out that he and the moon had a special relationship about a year ago. He did not know what had happened, but he found himself in his room. His nightclothes was streaked with grass. His palms were wet with soil.

What happened, then? He did not know, but he had forgotten. Recently, it was difficult to ignore the strange nocturnal occurrences. It was becoming more frequent. His hunched back was the worst so far.

Samuel did not want to cry. He was a big boy, almost thirteen. He would become a king one day. So, he breathed heavily, eyes wide, his whole body trembling. He could almost imagine how he and his mother shared the same facial expressions at that very moment. His father merely sat on an ottoman, his face on the hand that rested on his crossed legs. He was probably gearing himself for a while night of this – whatever it was. Mother and son sat on the bed, waiting for the affliction to subside if it was meant to leave the boy alone.

When the first streaks of sunlight entered the chambers, Samuel’s head was already on his mother’s lap. She had been caressing his hair the whole time, humming a melody to comfort him. It was almost like a lullaby. After all, her son was being reborn into something else.

Then, she felt it. Samuel’s body started convulsing as if he were stricken with a high fever.

“Adrian!” she called, jolting her husband awake from the ottoman where he sat the whole night.

“What is it?”

“Look!”

Both looked at their son’s back as it started shrinking to its former size. Soraya lifted his shirt to see what was happening. She saw the last few bumps beginning to recede. Then, in a few more seconds, Samuel’s back is smooth again as if nothing had happened. The king then carried his son and laid him on the bed.

“Let him sleep.”

The queen could only nod as both gazed at the boy who was on the verge of becoming a young man.

***

At the same time, in the forest, a ten-year-old girl sat on the rocks by a creek. Her long black hair fell on her back in waves. She wore a red headband and a pink tulle and satin dress. She stirred the water with her hands. Then, seemingly impatient, she slammed her palm onto it, splashing some on her face. She was angry. Her parents had been planning to send her to a distant kingdom to train as a lady-in-waiting.

“It would still be in a few years’ time,” her mother had said.

“But what about Emma? Why can’t she go?”

“Your sister just might be the Prince Samuel’s bride one day.”

“Oh. How can you be so sure? Why would he choose her? She is ugly!”

“You cannot mean that Miranda!” her mother cried, slapping her.

Miranda did not mean it, of course. Emma was beautiful. She was twelve, and she already looked very much like a princess. A Dubich count headed the Forsworths. They wanted to move up in society, it seemed. However, Miranda could not take the favor her sister was usually given over her. Who was she then? She was not even a spare, as some of those major royalties’ younger children could lay claim to being. She had heard about Princess Luella, future queen of Queenspell, and Princess Carolina, a very wealthy spare. They were children like her. Luella was her age. And yet, things were so different. The two probably already had marriage proposals while she was set to serve someone else. It would not even be the Queenspell princesses. Miranda was supposed to go to Leiderman, away from all the excitement.

The young girl then plopped her bare feet into the creek. She started swinging her legs, getting her dress wet. She wondered if her nurse was looking for her at the very moment, panicking that she would get a punishment. Miranda sighed. If she were the only one punished, she would have stayed for longer.

As she was about to get up, she felt her surroundings darken. Frowning, she looked up to see if it was going to rain. It was then that she wished she lived in Queenspell. She heard that it rarely rained in the queendom unless the crops needed some precipitation. The king consort was a water warlock. He controlled the weather.

But it was not rain that made her surroundings grow dark. It was a woman, a beautiful one. She had long black hair that fell in waves on her shoulders, and she had smooth brown skin.

“Good day, my dearest.” The voice was melodic and raspy at the same time. If Miranda had not seen the woman’s face, she would not have been sure of her age. She looked like someone in her twenties or thirties. Suddenly, the girl was not that sure.

“Good day, ma’am,” she responded, getting up and curtsying. She was still barefooted.

“You do not have to curtsy, Miranda,” the woman said.

“How did you know my name?”

The woman was not that much taller than her, but she had an imposing personality. Miranda knew that she was someone to be respected.

“I have seen you around, dear girl.”

“Oh,” was all that the girl could say as she pushed her little feet into her satin shoes.

“Do you want to be a princess?”

“Um, not really. I am a lady, ma’am. You are thinking of my sister, Emma. My mother said she will be a queen one day.”

“Oh. You should never underestimate matchmaking mamas,” the strange woman said. Miranda noticed that she was dressed all in black. The dress fit her body like a glove, in a fashion that the girl did not think was acceptable in polite society.

“Yes, I guess you know what my mother is like,” Miranda muttered, dusting off her pink dress, but the grass stains would remain there. Suddenly, she felt contrite. She should not have been there!

“Where are you going, my dear?” asked the woman, breathy. This time, she held Miranda’s arm. It was gentle, but it also felt like a warning. The hand that clasped the girl’s arm was burning hot. It was like she had just dipped it into a furnace. Was this Queen Soraya? she thought. She remembered that the queen was supposedly in her early thirties but looked younger than her age. That was what people said. The queen also had red hair.

This woman was somebody else.

“Let me go!”

“I am your friend, Miranda. I know you don’t want to be a lady-in-waiting one day. You are in this world for much better things.”

Miranda inspected the woman suspiciously. Eyes narrowed, the little girl still tried to pull her arm away. The woman, however, was strong. It was not in her force but in whatever she was doing to the girl. It must have been magic, the dark kind. Suddenly, the girl had fallen into sleep, standing. The strange woman gave a little laugh. Then, she gently led the sleepwalking girl deeper into the forest.