Little Lost Princess

By Hailey Knape

The kingdom of Meadowhelm has long been plagued by the fear instilled by Peter Pan and his Lost Boys. Each year, Peter comes to Meadowhelm and names his price for another year of peace. When Peter throws a wrench in the works and asks that Princess Holly return with him, he is rejected, and Holly's life quickly begins to spiral out of control. Angry but benevolent, Peter gives Holly a fortnight to prepare herself to leave. Just as it seems that all hope is lost, an infamous pirate captain who hasn't been seen in many years shows up in Meadowhelm's harbor with promises of keeping the princess safe. Now Holly must make a choice before it is made for her one way or another.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Fulton Books, Inc.
• Release date: Sep 1, 2022
• ISBN: 9798885053303

Book preview

Chapter 1

The wind howled through the trees as I made my way up the steep hill that would lead me to the cliffs. My gown and heavy cloak whipped around my boots as I ducked my head to shield my stinging eyes. I tightened my arms around my middle, my fingers cold despite my gloves.

It was warmer earlier in the afternoon. The sun had escaped the cloud cover, and the wind had stopped its howling. For a little while, it felt like spring. Now, as the sun began to fall toward the horizon, it seemed that winter wasn’t quite ready to bid farewell.

I could taste the salty tang of sea air as I neared the top of my climb. The woods began to thin as my destination came into view. I could hear the water as it crashed into the cliffside. Wisps of my light hair escaped the loose plait that hung over one shoulder and danced around my face. A small boulder sat beneath a bare willow tree, and when I sat, a bitter chill seeped through my cloak and gown. I pulled my cloak tighter around myself.

I had traveled to that exact spot many times. It was as familiar to me as any other part of my kingdom, and yet, so much had changed since I had been there exactly one year ago.

*****

I knew I’d find you here. I heard him say.

When I peered over my shoulder, there was Everett, my one and only brother, giving me his best half-grin and showing off one dimple.

I turned back toward the sea without returning his smile and watched the water lick at the shore far below in the distance.

Where’s Harlan? I asked, making an effort to say as little to him as possible.

At the start of the trail where you left him. He told me to hang back, Everett said, the smile now gone from his voice. Told me you might want some space.

I do, I quipped as I glanced back over my shoulder. Yet here you are.

Everett rolled his eyes. He did that a lot when we spoke these days. Ever since his engagement, he treated me more like a petulant child than a concerned sister. I was sure that the behavior change had everything to do with his bride-to-be, Amelia, and nothing to do with him. He wasn’t Father, so he had no right to scold me. He wasn’t king yet.

It’s a hard day for everyone, Holly.

I could picture him looking at me with a disapproving glare, his arms crossed over his chest, his jaw set.

I didn’t respond. We’d had this fight a hundred times.

After several long quiet moments, he sighed. I heard the crunch of the ground beneath his boots; and then he was sitting beside me, our shoulders touching as we both stared out over the water, a small amount of warmth brewing where our arms touched.

We were silent for what felt like ages, neither of us sure what to say next. The wind continued its howling, wrapping us both in a blanket of cold that made my teeth chatter until I clenched my jaw shut tight. Everett, on the other hand, didn’t seem bothered at all. The only indications he was cold were the flush in his cheeks and the little leak that was coming from his nose.

It won’t be like this forever, Holly.

I turned to him, incredulous. How can you say that? This is how it has always been.

*****

Remembering those words made my stomach feel hollow. Tears welled in my eyes. My sight turned misty, and a hard knot formed in my throat. But no matter how many times I swallowed, it wouldn’t disappear.

No, Everett, I thought bitterly. It wouldn’t be like that forever. It would be so much worse.

*****

Things can change, Everett said to me. Things will change, he said with such confidence.

What do you mean? I asked.

This, he said, sweeping his arm out before resting his elbows on his knees. Peter and the Lost Boys, trading young boys and resources for a year of peace…all of it. When I’m king… He shook his head, then turned and looked at me, his blue eyes the same shade as Father’s. When I’m king, I’m putting a stop to it.

I searched his face for any sign that maybe, just maybe, he had made a terrible attempt at a joke. He had never spoken like that in front of Father or the council, but as he stared out over the water, I could find no trace of humor.

There was a strange flutter in my stomach when I thought about his statement, and I couldn’t help the pull at the corners of my mouth as I thought about what it would be like if Peter Pan no longer had any power over our kingdom.

It took me a moment to realize that the flutter in my stomach felt like hope.

Before I could get too caught up in my hopeful reverie, Everett stood.

They’ll be arriving soon, he said, adjusting his gloves. We should be there to greet them.

When he held his hand out to me, I took it without pause. But when he pulled me to my feet, the small flutter of hope I had felt moments before vanished, and it was replaced by a familiar heavy fear that settled in my gut like lead.

*****

Tears spilled over onto my cheeks, but before I could wipe them away, the sharp snap of a twig startled me. Standing to face whomever it was that had tried to sneak up on me, I nearly lost my balance and had to put a hand out to steady myself on the willow tree.

I’m sorry, came a familiar voice. I didn’t mean to startle you.

My gaze was met with brown eyes that I knew like my own, and they belonged to a man who was more than a head taller than myself.

I was taller than him for a long time, but sometime during the last summer, he had shot up like a weed. The palace uniform, which had been loose in many places before, could no longer hide his athletic build. Tawny curls threatened to obscure his vision if he didn’t cut it soon, and he hadn’t shaved in a few days. The light stubble covering his chin and neck made him seem years older than his eighteen summers.

Dammit, Harlan, I swore before quickly wiping the tears away with the back of my gloved hand. I told you not to sneak up on me like that!

He bowed, fist over his heart, and apologized, I felt it best to come check up on you, Your Highness.

Why? I asked, crossing my arms against the chilled air, the smell of salt filling my nostrils.

Harlan gave me a sad smile. Because no one should spend today alone.

*****

Harlan was waiting at the start of the trail, exactly where I had left him, his hand on the hilt of his sword as he stood guard, not willing to let anyone pass.

Except for Everett, I thought, a small smile coming to my lips. He would apologize profusely for it, but I couldn’t be angry. Everett would have found a way up the trail—my orders to Harlan be damned. Besides, as his future king, Harlan was more likely to listen to Everett than he was to me.

As we approached, Harlan turned, his entire body tensing when his eyes landed on me. I could practically see the apologies dancing in his brown eyes and getting ready to tumble out of his mouth. I gave him my most reassuring smile, and his shoulders relaxed.

He hates disappointing you, doesn’t he? Everett whispered in my ear when Harlan placed a closed fist over his heart and bowed at the waist.

His tawny curls fell over his eyes as he straightened, and as he brushed his hair back, I felt my cheeks turn warm. Before I could respond, Everett had pulled ahead of me and patted Harlan’s shoulder as he passed.

Harlan he greeted with a wide grin before shooting me a wink and walking on. Don’t be late! he shouted at me over his shoulder.

I glared at him, burning holes into the back of his cloak with my eyes, willing him to trip on a tree root as he sauntered away—no such luck.

How are you? Harlan asked as he walked next to me.

It was a simple question, one that I could easily answer in one or two words, but I knew Harlan wasn’t just asking. It was more than that. He wanted to know.

A comforting warmth bloomed in my chest at the thought.

Silence stretched between us as I thought about my answer, and the frozen ground crunched beneath our boots. In the forest, branches rubbed together in the wind above our heads.

I decided to answer his question. I’ll just be glad when this is over.

Too bad it has only just begun, Harlan said, his voice somber, and I could feel my chest getting heavier the closer we got to the castle, thinking about the days ahead.

If only we knew just how right he was.

Chapter 2

My father and I ate silently in the dining hall. We both pushed food around on our plates, but neither of us had taken more than a few bites. I’d hardly touched the assortment of fruit or the bread and cheese, a breakfast that I usually loved because of its variety and simplicity.

While he traced his bottom lip with one hand, my father tapped his empty cup absentmindedly in a slow rhythm. His eyes, the same as Everett’s, were far away.

I wondered if he was thinking about the last meal we had with Everett and how that morning had been so unlike this one. While the hall was still filled with nervous energy, we each were able to eat a whole meal and managed to have a few conversations. At one point, Everett had even made me laugh, which, in turn, caused my father to sputter on his ale. While the ale dribbled into his short beard, I laughed harder, and we all ended up in stitches. Even a few of the servant girls that were bustling about stopped and giggled.

My father cleared his throat, breaking me out of my reverie. I’d like you to stay in the winter villa, Holly, he said. His eyes were still far away. He wasn’t looking at me.

I folded my napkin and set it on my plate. Pan won’t like that, I replied, and my father slammed his cup down on the table. It split up the side, and the last bit of ale spilled out onto the table. I flinched.

If you are out of Pan’s sight, you are out of Pan’s mind, he quipped, his eyes finally finding mine as he came back to the present. His eyes used to remind me of the ocean on a calm day in the summer. Today, they reminded me of ice—cold and unforgiving.

I bowed my head and apologized.

He softened almost instantly, the ice that had encompassed his heart and body for the past year melting. He reached out a hand to cup my cheek, his palm clammy and cold, but I didn’t pull away.

I’m sorry.

I covered his hand with mine and leaned into his hand. Don’t apologize, I told him, and I could see the mistiness in his eyes that threatened to spill. I understand. I’ll have the servant girls pack my bags. We’ll be ready to leave by lunch.

That’s my girl, he said while his thumb traced the soft curve of my cheekbone. Pride swelled in me, but it was short-lived. At just seventeen summers, even as the Princess of Meadowhelm, I was far too young to have to carry the burden of losing my brother for my father. I did so with my obedience and making sure that I wasn’t causing my father any unnecessary worry and stress.

Servants cleared away the platters still piled with food, their faces grim. I watched them, fully aware that a few of them had young boys, and I couldn’t blame them for the fear that Peter Pan would want to take them away from Meadowhelm forever. My heart ached for them, but there wasn’t anything I could do.

There wasn’t anything any of us could do. What Pan wanted, Pan got.

Without another word, I stood and gathered the blue material of my gown in my hands. I leaned over and kissed my father on the cheek before making my way toward the dining hall doors. My light curls tickled the back of my shoulders as they sashayed back and forth with each step.

The door shut behind me, the echo sounding much larger in the empty hall. The windows that adorned the right side of the hall rattled slightly, but I didn’t linger.

Halfway down the hall, I heard voices—loud, rowdy voices and cackling laughter.

No, it couldn’t be. They couldn’t have arrived early. We would have known about it. We would have spotted their canoes. Besides, they never arrived before sunset.

I froze when a guard rounded the corner at the end of the hall, his face grim and his march more than a bit stiff. His step faltered slightly when he saw me, and his eyes grew wide. He knew what I knew.

The only way out of the hall was the same way Peter Pan and the Lost Boys were coming from. If I wanted out of the hall, I would have to pass them.

He glanced over his shoulder before he bolted over to me and grabbed my elbow so tight it almost hurt. He wasted no time, dragging me over to the other side of the hall and pushing me behind one of the large pillars that reached from floor to ceiling.

Stay hidden, he whispered urgently before turning back and making the last few strides toward the large dining hall doors. I nodded, unable to swallow the hard knot that had formed in my throat.

The voices grew louder, and then they rounded the corner and into the hall. I didn’t dare peek out from behind the pillar in fear of being seen, but I could see their reflections in the windows as they passed.

Boys of all shapes, sizes, and ages sauntered down the hall, their clothes and hair in a wide spectrum of disarray and matted filth. They all wore the traveling cloaks that Peter demanded to be made for them the year before last, and while most had their hoods down, some of the older boys wore their hoods up. Most of the younger boys were barefoot, their feet black with filth, but the older boys seemed to be wearing makeshift shoes that looked a lot like moccasins.

Three boys that seemed to be about my age led the group, all with their hoods up and their faces hidden from sight, and I could only assume that one of them must be Peter Pan.

The guard opened the heavy doors that led to the dining hall, and he ushered the party inside, announcing the arrival of Peter Pan and the Lost Boys.

It seemed that I had gone unnoticed.

When the door closed, I checked the reflections in the windows several times to make sure I was alone. Only when I was sure there were no stragglers did I let myself breathe normally. Then I stepped back into the hall and ran smack into someone.

Well, well, well, the hooded figure drawled, and I felt my stomach drop.

I knew that voice. It was a voice that had haunted my dreams every day for a year since he had stolen my brother away.

Who do we have here?

I-I’m so sorry, I stumbled as I tried to rein in my fraying nerves. I could have sworn Peter and his entourage had entered the dining hall. Surely, I would have seen this hooded boy in the windows. I glanced at the large windows, and sure enough, the hooded figure was there and very hard to miss.

Please don’t apologize, the figure said as he pulled back his hood. The fault was mine. I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.

I opened my mouth to speak, but as the hood fell over the boy’s shoulders, the words didn’t come.

Emerald green eyes stared down at me through fiery-red curls that poked out in different directions on his head. His skin had been kissed by the sun, bringing out the splatter of freckles across his nose and cheeks. He was only slightly taller than me and lean, but I felt so small next to him. His lips curled into a smirk as he tilted his head to the side and said, It’s rude to stare.

I ducked my head, my cheeks flushing hot, making him chuckle.

You’ve changed so much in a year, Princess, he purred, his voice like honey.

I looked up at him and found him smiling down at me. He reminded me of a predator toying with its prey.

You aren’t a little girl anymore.

My stomach turned into a knot at his words. His eyes sparkled as they took me in.

Normally, I would have curtsied and said something along the lines of I hope the waters weren’t too terrible or Welcome back to Meadowhelm, Peter Pan. But I didn’t. I stood still, my shoulders and back beginning to ache from standing so rigid, my hands wringing together as he straightened.

I wasn’t supposed to be standing here with him. I was supposed to be packing for my stay at the winter villa on a small island south of Meadowhelm. I was supposed to be as far away from Peter Pan as possible.

I’ve been thinking about you, he said, nonchalant. He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.

I tried to hold still, but every nerve in my body was telling me not to let him touch me. I felt his fingertips brush my ear, then my neck, and finally my collarbone. My breath hitched, and as I watched him, his eyes changed. They darkened to the shade of moss in the deep woods after a heavy storm. His hair seemed to darken too, fading into an auburn, and I swear that his shadow rippled.

Something felt very wrong. I willed my feet to move, but they didn’t.

I shouldn’t be out here, I thought to myself. I shouldn’t be talking to this boy.

Aren’t you going to welcome me, Princess? he asked, an amused smile on his face. His eyes twinkled dangerously.

I opened my mouth to do so, but the corners of his lips stretched wide. And I felt myself sputter to a stop.

The most dangerous boy in all of the Never Isles, the boy who had my brother, stood right in front of me, perfectly still as he watched me. I tried to make sense of how I had been so unlucky as to meet him face-to-face on the day that I was supposed to stay out of his sight and out of his mind. As my mind reeled, he sighed, snapping my attention back to him.

Well, Princess, I must say that it’s been a pleasure seeing you again. He smiled, and I felt my hands tremble.

As his eyes raked over my body, I resisted the urge to cover myself.

I can see why your daddy doesn’t let you sit in on these meetings like he did your brother. He seems to have learned his lesson.

What do you mean? I asked the question before I could think better of it, but I was so desperate to hear about Everett that I didn’t care.

Peter shook his head. I would love to stay and chat, Princess, but I must be off. He took a step toward me and took one of my hands in his. It’s rude to keep the king waiting.

As he brought my hand to his lips, I couldn’t help but notice how dirty his fingernails were. His nail beds, as well as the area under his fingernails, were coated in a flaky red-brown substance.

His hot breath brushed the back of my hand as his lips found my knuckles. To my surprise, his lips were soft, and the kiss was featherlight.

We then locked eyes, and I watched as the darkness receded from his hair and eyes, like smoke being washed away with rain; and soon, his emerald eyes and fiery-red hair were back, flashing brightly.

Goodbye, Princess Holly, he said, and I felt a flutter in my stomach. He lowered his hand, his fingers still wrapped around mine, and just as I thought he was going to let go, he tightened his grip and yanked me forward.

I couldn’t swallow the yelp of surprise as I stumbled forward. I put up my free hand to stop myself from falling and grabbed onto the front of Peter’s shirt. The cotton was soft and worn, but I instantly let go, embarrassed.

Our proximity was beyond inappropriate. I had never stood so close to a boy before, and I could feel my ears burning as the blush crept down into my cheeks and neck. My heart slammed against my rib cage as he leaned down, his curls tickling the side of my face as he whispered in my ear, "I hope to see you again very, very soon."

And as quickly as the heat had come, it was gone and replaced with cold fear.

He let go of my hand and brushed past me, leaving me to stand in the middle of the hall alone. Just as he reached for the door, I whirled on him.

Is Everett still alive?

The question sounded desperate. My voice cracked on the last word, and I scorned myself for being so weak in front of him.

For a moment, Pan didn’t move. His hand rested on the handle of the door, but he didn’t turn it. Then he glanced back over his shoulder at me and smiled.

Did you not see him on our way in?

His words slammed into me like a wave, and for a moment, I couldn’t move. My mind spun as I thought back to the entourage and the three older boys with their hoods up.

Everett had been one of them. Everett was here—in the castle, in the dining hall.

Shaking his head, Peter chuckled and watched me as I came to realize that my brother was alive and back in Meadowhelm for the first time in a year. He opened the door just wide enough for him to slip through, and before he disappeared, he winked at me and said, Don’t get used to it, sweetheart. He won’t be here long. Then his eyes raked over me, sending a cold chill down my spine as he said, Then again…maybe you won’t be either.

Chapter 3

I didn’t remember