Snow in April: A Story of Concordia, #3

By Mary Mager

"To make a friend, you have to be a friend."

A lonely Prince Jasper of Thisley learns this lesson when he accompanies his mother to Concordia, where his sister, Queen Gabrielle, is expecting a baby, and the kingdom is in the grip of the harshest winter in recent memory. Toby is immediately put off by the spoiled prince's attitude and his obvious affection for Olive, While the teens work out their differences the adults quarrel over disputed land. It's up to the teens to solve an ancient mystery to avert the unthinkable - war between their kingdoms.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mary Mager
• Release date: Apr 7, 2018
• ISBN: 9781393161417

Mary Mager

Mary Mager is a Nevada – raised writer and songwriter.  She has been a registered nurse, a business owner, substitute teacher, and stay-at-home mom, which; she considers her most rewarding occupation.  Mary has always been a storyteller, and since retirement from the business world she has had the time to work on projects inspired by the special joy of having a grandchild on her lap. She has been a church musician for many years, and that experience led her to compose her own songs, culminating in release in 2014 of an album, “On Grandma’s Lap,” a collection of bedtime songs and lullabies.  At the same time, she has continued to imagine and write stories both long and short for her grandchildren. “Pretend Princess” is the first book in the Concordia series for middle-grade readers. "Under the Summer Sun" is the second in this engaging series. Mary has a Facebook page, On Grandma’s Lap, and a website:  http://www.ongrandmaslap.com. She is delighted to hear from her readers at [e-mail].

Book preview

For Amy, Laura, and Joe.

You are each my favorite.

1  Thisley

THE ANCIENT CASTLE of Thisley sat perched like a seabird above the bordering ocean. Once manned and alert for any threat, in these peaceful times the old battlement was abandoned to the birds and the occasional lonely boy.

On this night Prince Jasper of Thisley sat on the very edge of the old wall, shivering in spite of his cloak. The sky was bright with stars, and the ocean sent up a muffled hiss as it broke against the rocks below, but the boy was unaware of the beauty, lost as he was in anger and his own troubled thoughts.

At fifteen, Jasper hovered uncertainly between adulthood and a childhood he couldn’t wait to leave behind. He had his father’s sandy-colored hair and blue eyes, though it seemed he would be tall like his mother’s family. In the past year he had sprouted up to an almost-adult height, gangly and clumsy as a newborn colt, and just as his clothes didn’t fit the young prince felt he didn’t fit anywhere himself.

Normally, Jasper liked this spot. Always interested in the old days, he would sit and imagine himself back in time, picturing colorful banners and men in bright armor. But tonight this was far from his thoughts. He shifted against the cold stone, pulling his cloak more tightly around himself against the chill breeze, and considered going back inside.

Let them come find me. They probably don’t miss me anyway, he thought, unaware of the contradiction. Over his shoulder he cast a glance at the door which led to this part of the battlement. It remained closed.

Earlier that evening there had been yet another ugly disagreement with his father, King Edward. It had been made clear to the young prince that his behavior toward the seriously overweight Count Gorch had been unacceptable when Jasper rudely pointed out the split seam in the rear of the gentleman’s pants. In front of everyone.

Jasper had laughed at the time, ignoring the stricken look on the man’s face, but what had followed was less amusing. Alone with his parents, Jasper was severely reprimanded for what they referred to as his continued insubordination and disrespect. Though by this time he was feeling guilty about embarrassing the old man in such a way, his pride would not let him apologize.

Jasper was growing accustomed to these lectures and was usually unbothered by them, but this time his father had followed up with a punishment. He was to spend the next week working in the stables in order to get in touch with how other people behave or some such nonsense. His father had not been too clear on what he was supposed to learn.

Jasper had expected his mother to intervene, but for once Queen Constance kept silent in spite of Jasper’s pleading looks. King Edward had spoken and would not be moved. Jasper would begin mucking out horse stalls in the morning like the lowest stable hand and that was all there was to it.

Anger boiled up again as he thought of it. In frustration, Jasper climbed back over the edge of the wall and stomped around a bit, even kicking the stone, which accomplished nothing but a stubbed toe. His little tantrum exhausted, he finally turned away from the view and crept back indoors. Back in his own room, Jasper sat on his bed and fought back the lump in his throat. His anger gave way to an all-too-familiar feeling of loneliness.

Jasper’s birth had been a surprise for his parents and everyone else. But after the shock wore off, no one knew quite what to do with him. His mother had spoiled him; his father treated him with indifference, or so it seemed to Jasper. His older brothers had taken their places in the running of the kingdom, and his sisters were married. There seemed to be no role left for a late arrival such as himself. As he grew older, Jasper found it more and more difficult to envision a future for himself in Thisley. He barely fit into the family, it seemed, let alone the kingdom. Isolated and without friends his age, resentful and angry, he found himself acting up in ways that startled even himself.

Climbing into bed at last, he thought unhappily about the stables that awaited him in the morning.

IN ANOTHER PART OF the castle, in the King and Queens’ chamber, his parents were having an animated discussion about their youngest son and his behavior. Count Gorch was an old and dear friend, though Jasper did not know the man, and they were deeply embarrassed by the whole episode.

I just don’t understand the boy. An agitated King Edward paced back and forth. We didn’t raise him to be like this! What have we done wrong? Seeing his reflection as he passed a mirror, he pointed to his head. See, I’ve gone entirely gray this past year and most of it is due to Jasper! He sat down heavily on the edge of the bed next to the Queen, the mattress sinking under his considerable weight.

I’ve been too easy on him myself, said Queen Constance. He used to be so sweet, but I just don’t recognize this young tyrant he’s become. We never had such troubles with the other children.

Of course there had been difficulties with Jasper’s older brothers and sisters as in any family, but these memories were dimmed by time. The current discord was immediate. His siblings had all been close in age, while Jasper, arriving much later, had always been the baby. A group of one.

The two sat side by side. Edward put an arm around his wife’s slender shoulders, pulling her close. A tall and aristocratic woman, her hair was also showing streaks of gray these days amid the chestnut brown. Still active and energetic, only her hair and a few new lines on her face gave her age away.

Jasper seems always to be angry these days, she said sadly, though for the life of me I don’t understand why. Have you tried to talk to him, when you’re not upset, I mean?

No, not really. I don’t know how to get through to him. He just won’t listen to me.

Perhaps we need to listen to him, said the Queen. The trick is to get him to talk.

There seemed nothing else to say as they prepared for bed. Both mother and father would find it hard to fall asleep for worry about their confounding youngest son.

2  Concordia

ON THE OTHER SIDE of two mountain ranges and a large and desolate valley was the Kingdom of Concordia. Much smaller than Thisley and isolated by thickly forested mountains, Concordia was exactly the right size and in the right place for its peace-loving inhabitants. They were ruled by young King Bartholomew and Queen Gabrielle, formerly Princess of Thisley, from their white-walled palace overlooking the town of Concordia. The town was not large enough to be called a city, which also suited everyone just fine.

Upstairs in the royal nursery, Queen Gabrielle was having a difficult time with her firstborn, Prince Bartholomew Francis Bucklebottom Frederick, all of two years old and apparently only capable of one word, which was no.

Now Barty, we have to put on your shoes. Come here to Mama; we need to get you ready to go see Daddy, she coaxed, down on her knees and making a grab for the little boy as he dashed by.

Baby Bart, or Barty, as he was generally known, responded by laughing gleefully, then throwing the shoe across the room. He looked at his mother expectantly to see what she would do. No, no, no, no, no, no, no, he chanted, darting away again.

I give up.

Queen Gabrielle sat back on her heels and wondered how she was going to get up. There was no one else in the room at the moment. Emily, who was unofficial nursemaid and helper for all things concerning Barty, was away on an errand. The maid, Hattie, had gone for clean laundry as the toddler had decorated his clothes with green beans at lunch.

Gabrielle felt heavy with the new baby, a brother or sister for Baby Bart, who was expected in a few more months. Though only half way through her pregnancy, Gabrielle was finding things much more difficult this time around. She did not have the energy she was used to having and the simplest activities seemed to tire her. Getting up from the floor, for example.

Barty was puzzled by his mother’s lack of response to his achievement, so he threw the other shoe at her, hitting her just above the eye.

Ow! No! That hurt! Without thinking, she reached for him and grabbed his arm with some force, startling the little fellow. Barty stared at his mother in shock. His eyes became huge, then his lower lip began to tremble, and tears rolled down his cheeks.

Uh, uh, uh WAAAAAAA.

Baby Bart began howling. Gabrielle stared at him for a moment then began crying also, tears of fatigue and frustration, and shame at having so frightened her baby. Reaching for him and pulling him close, she tried to soothe her little son. The two of them were sitting on the floor creating a nice puddle when King Bartholomew chose that moment to enter the nursery.

Gabby, have you seen my... he stopped in confusion at the sight of his wife sobbing on the floor. What’s happened? Are you all right? Is Barty all right? He quickly went to her and helped her up.

Oh, I’m fine, said the Queen, through ragged breaths. I just, I just... she began to sob again, against his chest this time, while hugging the baby to herself. He, at least,