The Princess Secret

Chapter 1

Meet Serah

Just as Latalan called her name, Serah appeared over the rocky heap, between the rising tide of ocean water and their small, one-room cottage.

She was too excited to notice Latalan’s foot tapping or her crossed arms. Where have you been? Latalan asked.

Serah’s bubbly mood popped. I went to the brook, Ma. I know I didn’t finish my chores, but it was a cloudless day. Everyone knew on cloudless days the glitter-tops bloomed and the fan-tails glowed. When the sky shone rosy-plum on the aqua-tinted water was the only time a Kerosian could see these shy water creatures. And everyone knew if you saw both in one day, it meant a special event was about to happen. Serah looked up at her mother with shining brown eyes.

Latalan huffed and shook her head. There’s no truth to old-timer stories, child. But I would do the same when I was your age. Come. She took Serah’s hand in hers as they walked up the stone path toward the cottage.

Latalan’s bitter-sounding words stopped Serah from sharing that she had spotted both a glitter-top and a fan-tail. Her mother never thought of anything except work and earning coins and what filled their bellies.

You can make it up to me, Latalan said, by helping chop and cook the vegetables for supper.

This was no punishment because chopping and preparing supper was a regular chore. Why didn’t her mother scold like usual when she ran off without finishing her chores? Was it possible the super special event was already happening?

Latalan had been acting strange since Serah turned twelve, when she got to pierce her ear with a second hoop and wear a longer sarong. Serah kept catching her mother watching her with a sad frown pulling on her face. Latalan kept saying she wished Serah would stay small for a little bit longer. Serah felt secrets floating in the air and change peeking over the horizon.

That night, Serah’s father, Rapsulun, brought home whisker fish for supper. He scooped Serah up in a giant-hug, and his laugh boomed through their small cottage.

He gave her a piece of green sea glass, and she held it up to the lantern light. Thank you, Da, she said. I will treasure it.

After dinner, Serah climbed the ladder to the loft where they stored nut-grass for the farm animals. She took a big whiff of the greenish smell and plopped down in a soft clump. It was her happy place away from the world where she always felt safe.

She dug her favorite book, The Kidnapped Princess, out of the nut-grass and cracked it opened to her favorite passage. Her imagination swept her away and plunked her into the story. Serah became the heroine, Jessemine, as she rode swiftly through a forest on a sleek midnight-dark stallion. Bandits, with black masks and glistening silver swords, chased her. Serah’s heart beat faster and faster until it thumped in her ears like dozens of stallion hooves.

BAM! Serah jumped, the loud noise startling her. Da’s voice rattled the roof timbers as he slammed his metal tankard against the driftwood table. Her mother’s voice hissed as if Serah couldn’t hear the sharp words they exchanged.

Serah put her fingers in her ears, but she still heard her parents’ argument. She crept slowly down the ladder. Every loud word made her cringe. On the very bottom rung, she rested and listened.

Sometimes when they fought, she sneaked away and waited in the barn until they quieted.

CRASH! Latalan slammed a drawer shut and made all the dishes bounce and clatter. I am tired of you complaining! Don’t forget I bring in money too!

I’m not forgetting! Rapsulun roared. It’s not enough!

Serah bit her lip. They were fighting about earning coin again. How could she help them? 

If she sold something they didn’t really need or use, like their muunga Vella, then they should have enough coin to be happy and not worry anymore. The muunga was old, and she ate a lot, but she didn’t contribute. She was too old to pull the plow, and she quit giving milk last winters-end. That’s what she would do: sell Vella!

Because Da loved Vella, she would have to be sneaky and take Vella at night.

After her parents told her goodnight, she pretended to go to sleep. When Rapsulun snored evenly and Latalan quit telling him to roll over!, Serah slipped out of bed.

Serah knelt beside her bed and pulled her treasure chest from underneath. Inside, she kept a beaded necklace, her sea glass collection, and a headband with an S engraved into it. She put the headband on to tame her crazy, big hair.

She quickly dressed, covering her hair with a hood. Her hair was white with purple highlights striped through the long layers. Latalan always warned her thieves stole hair like hers right off girls’ heads, so she covered it every time they went to the village. Hair thieves used the different colors to mix healing potions. Purple strands were especially great for curing warts.

Striped hair like Serah’s was also the moon trolls’ favorite, since lady trolls made wigs to cover their bald heads. She once saw a troll with hair of five different colors. She didn’t want any trolls seeing the moonlight reflected off her purple strands. Serah’s hair belonged on her own head.

Next, she needed to pack food for the journey. She sneaked into the kitchen pantry and grabbed a jar of pickled roots. She slipped it into her travel pack made of red dragon-berry leaves.

The jug of emergency coin held only a few precious copper pieces, but she took those too, just in case. She would return with more than enough coin to fill the jug.

Latalan and Rapsulun might worry in the morning when they saw her missing. She should leave her parents a note, but when she hunted in her father’s desk, she couldn’t find any writing parchment. Then she remembered seeing her mother pull a parchment out of her storage trunk.

Latalan had forbidden Serah to look inside the trunk. Ever. Memories and treasures lived inside. Secrets and wishes.

Anything forbidden made Serah extra curious. Latalan rarely opened her special memory trunk, so Serah always watched closely to see what her mother might pull out of it. Now, she really wanted to see inside. Desire itched through her bones.

Swiveling toward the trunk stirred the air and sheets of parchment tucked under a stack of books fluttered. Disappointed to lose her good excuse for snooping, she scrunched her nose. She would just have to use these loose sheets and leave Latalan’s trunk alone. After scribbling a note, she left the sheet on top of the kitchen table.

Tiptoeing toward the cottage door, she passed by her mother’s trunk. The idea to look inside had rooted in her brain, and now the trunk seemed to call to her, Open me, Serah. You know you want to! Her curiosity always led to trouble, but she itched all over to know what Latalan treasured.

Sitting on the floor beside the trunk, excitement filled her insides until her fingertips and tiptoes tingled. She felt like she was opening a wonderful secret.

She must be super quiet because Latalan slept so close any creak might wake her.

Serah held her breath and lifted the lid. What would she find? The last time Latalan had opened the trunk, her cheeks dragged with sadness and tears shimmered over her eyes. Now, Serah peeked inside.

She found boring business papers about the farm and the fishing boat and the animals, ownership rights to the cottage. Under those papers, nestled Serah’s old pencil drawings and her crib quilts and all kinds of baby-Serah things. At the very bottom, the rolled parchment caught her attention. It looked ancient, aged yellow-brown with crumbly edges.

Carefully, Serah lifted it out of the trunk to look closer. She began unrolling the delicate parchment when Rapsulun snorted and flopped over. The unexpected noise made her jump a little, and the trunk lid flipped closed with a loud THUNK that echoed in