The Veiled Mirror: The Story of Prince Vlad Dracula's Lost Love

By Christine Frost

Legend has it that the love of Prince Dracula’s life committed suicide during a siege in 1462. Author Christine Frost tells the story of Ecaterina, consort to Vlad the Impaler, the Romanian prince who served as the inspiration for Bram Stoker’s Dracula. The richly detailed story of Ecaterina is a romantic, supernatural, and adventurous view into one of history’s most notorious figures.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christine Frost
• Release date: Jan 1, 2010
• ISBN: 9781452301730

Christine Frost

Before finding her calling as a digital strategist, Christine Frost's nomadic career spanned beer and mead brewing, marketing for a record label, and book editing at a university. She received a master's in literature and creative writing from Harvard Extension School, and has written four novels, with several short stories appearing in journals and anthologies. An avid cook who has collected more recipes than she can cook in a lifetime, Christine blogs about how food is portrayed in fiction at SavoredWords.com. She loves to scout out the best coffee shops in Boston.

Book preview

Prologue

When you stand before a mirror, perhaps you’ve felt it pulling you to another world. It’s a dark and malevolent place where chaos reigns. Its pull is irresistible. You might see yourself decades older than you are. You may see a monstrous vision, maybe a demon coming through to claim your soul. You train yourself to avoid looking at mirrors in dark rooms because what lies beyond lurks there in hopes of getting your attention. The dead call from within the mirror. I should know. One day I fell into it, and I’ve been there ever since. So far, no one has seen me, but I know when someone senses a presence within it. A wraith, I suppose that’s what I am now, and I do try to reach out. I don’t know how long it’s been since I’ve spoken, but it is all I’ve wanted to do for centuries.

You are mute within the mirror, but you see and hear everything. Your soul is silenced and there is no cure. How I got there is an interesting tale. I know now that I could have prevented it from happening. I’ve long since given up my immersion in regret, for there is even a struggle for survival even among the dead. We need to be remembered.

Chapter 1

October 1448

It started with fire. Late at night the first plumes of smoke delivered the message of change taking place in the heart of Tirgoviste. Only when the fires became widespread did the neighbors begin to shout, drawing everyone into the streets. Several nobles’ houses were engulfed in flames, but peasants and small shops were left untouched.

I rushed out of our home with my mother and brother to watch the spectacle. We watched the families run out of their homes and slip and fall in panic. They handed their children out of windows. Turkish soldiers spread through the streets, escorting the son of a dead prince who returned to reclaim his legacy. He was Vlad III, son of Prince Vlad II Dracul.

My mother had been in love with Vlad II. When news arrived a year ago that he was executed along with his firstborn son, she grieved as though he were her lover. Governor Janos Hunyadi, the man who ordered Dracul’s assassination, made for troubling times. Prince Danesti sought to please the Turks by sending annual tribute of five hundred boys to join the sultan’s janissary corps and loads of gold and resources. Most families grieved the loss of a son to the janissary corps, save for a few like our own. Families with only one son were spared, except during war, when they took whomever they could. The Turks trained them to fight against their own people. Very few ever came home again.

And now Prince Danesti and Hunyadi were off fighting a battle on the southern border, giving the young heir a chance to take power with support from the sultan, who felt Danesti had fallen from favor.

I was fifteen at the time. The workings of the world meant nothing to me. I was only enthralled by the frenetic activity around me. Consumed by her irrational desires, however, my mother was driven to rush deep into the streets to catch a glimpse of the new prince. We were fortunate that the fleeting view of him satisfied her enough so we could return home and get out of the way of the soldiers and panicking residents. He rode a black horse with his retinue of Wallachian and Turkish soldiers. The reflection of the fire on his armor made us all stand still as though the Archangel Michael rode before us. With a shimmering sword held aloft to rally his guards close to him, the prince circled on his horse, gauging the crowd. I was momentarily stricken when I realized how close he was to me. The prince’s sharp, pale features made him otherworldly. His eyes were large and predatory. He must have noticed me staring, because his expression turned wolfish as he seemed to pause. The horse’s eyes reflected the flames of a home collapsing into broken beams and clouds of ash. His horse circled again and the prince’s black hair shadowed his face. He nudged the horse into a gallop and rode through the front gate of the palace without a glance behind him.

*****

The next day, my mother plotted an unlikely future for me. She brushed my hair with a ferocity that created more knots than it loosened. Every time I winced, she struck me with the hairbrush as the thread-thin line of her lips showed her utter frustration. As the tangles of my hair fell into my lap, I wiped away the tears that stung my eyes. You’ll never attract a man looking like this, Ecaterina, she scolded. Our new prince is about to speak to us in the town square and you must be ready for him.

Dumitru laughed. Hardened by years of work in the fields, he had no place for such fantasies. Our father had been an officer, but due to the wars, he wasn’t paid like he should have been as princes frequently changed rule. If a new prince felt the footsoldiers may be more loyal to a defeated rival, payment was withheld. It was convenient excuse for them to hoard their money. The small sum we had after his death didn’t last long, so Dumitru had no other choice than to work in the fields. He reached over to poke at my ribs. So you’ll marry a prince and become his chubby brood mare.

Leaping up from my chair, I chased him around the table. And why aren’t you married yet, you bat-faced ogre? I yelled. I could fight well with the boys having spent more time trying to impress his friends than with my own demure girlfriends.

Good question, he said, laughing as he dodged me. Some would say it’s because I work too much and have no time for young women. Others would say it’s because once they saw you, they knew evil spirits inhabited the bodies of our family.

Mother was furious, praying to ward off whatever misfortune he may have brought down upon us. She yelled a hundred curses at us as she grabbed me and pulled me back to the chair as captive to her dreams. There’s no reason for him not to notice you, she said. I was made to wear my best dress, a long white gown with a black overpiece tied at the waist, showing lace trim at the hem. The overshirt was one of my favorites, red, white, and black with an elaborate print that I traced with my fingertips for hours when I was bored at lengthy church services. A white kerchief covered the top of my head, but Mother made sure to make my hair flow out over my shoulders, as she felt it was my best attribute. Your hair is so shiny. You need to make him notice you. I wanted to tell her that she was living in a child’s tale.

Dumitru scoffed at the notion, his disheveled dark hair hanging over his eyes. He’ll never ask a flea-ridden monkey like you to marry him, he said with a derisive laugh.

Mother slammed the brush down and stormed away to prepare dinner. Not that anyone could fault her for it, but she was a terrible cook. As she cut the moldy ends of the bread away, I helped her slice onions, carrots, and turnips for the stew that would be our bland dinner. As Dumitru smirked at me, I continued our argument. I hope Mother volunteers to send you as tribute to the janissary corps.

That’s far more likely to happen than you marrying an heir of Dracul, he said, frowning at the idea.

The idea of losing my brother seared my heart, but I’d never let him know. I spoke to Mother instead. So what do you know about this new prince?

Her eyes gleamed. "He was just a boy when the sultan took him away from his family. He’s seventeen now. Doamna Ciorbea, the wife of the carpenter who lives near the marketplace, says he’s the smartest son in the family. Her husband was hired by Vlad II to do renovations and repairs when he first became prince. The boys were young then, and young Vlad was a most curious and bright child. He will make our lives better."

I giggled, giving my brother a sly glance. Seventeen, then? Like Dumitru? Imagine that, Dumitru leading an army to take the throne…

If I were prince of Wallachia, I’d keep you in a cage as the court monkey, he said as he rounded the table and tickled me.

And I’d bite you and give you mange, I said, hitting him in the arm with a spoon. There was a satisfying crack upon impact. I was rarely able to cause him much pain because he was stronger and faster.

Then I’d boil you alive and feed you to the dogs, he threatened as he grabbed me around the waist and swung me in a circle. My feet kicked the table, making the vegetables jump and the plates rattle. I tangled my legs around his and he fell, pulling me down with him. I cursed as he landed on me.

Stop this or I’ll beat you ‘til you can’t stand! I’ll summon the guards and have them haul you off to prison. If only your father were alive…Dumitru, stop behaving like a child. Don’t you want to be able to provide for your family someday?

Well, I was thinking about becoming a pirate, sailing the Black Sea, hoarding treasure. I can take Ecaterina along as cook’s assistant.

I took a dish cloth and waved it like a flag. And I’ll cut the throat of the cook and poison the captain and first mate, and will take over the ship and we’ll be the most feared pirates in the sea.

Mother sighed and scooped the vegetables into the stewpot and set it over the fire to simmer for as many hours as it took to become tasteless mush. It’s time to go, she said. Behave yourselves.

We followed her out the door and I looked back at Dumitru. As if he’d ever notice us, I muttered. His grin brightened my mood. He tugged at my hair.

As we joined the press of people, the first thing I noticed was the odor. Every guild was there. The stench of the butcher and his sons was sickening; they didn’t even bother taking off their gore-soaked aprons. The furriers and tanners smelled like poison. Despite the autumn chill, I found it stifling as we got closer to the gathering place in front of the palace. Mother looked around like she lost something. Noticing a bed of bright flowers nearby, she went over to it and snipped a handful with her fingertips as she pretended to be leaning against the garden wall. Her pursed lips ruined the innocent expression she feigned. I was mortified. Mother, what are you doing? Don’t you think he’ll see that you took flowers belonging to the palace?

Hush up, Ecaterina, she barked, fluffing her impromptu bouquet and striding into the crowd as if Tirgoviste belonged to her alone. We followed her to the center of all the activity. Her salt and pepper hair was fastened in a loose bun that swayed with her wide-hipped gait as she walked. Unfurling her hair and refastening the bun was a constant annoyance that she was preoccupied with at least a dozen times a day. I was often grateful for her poor cooking skills, because I wanted to ward off the stocky build I’d inevitably inherit one day. Her old black dress did little to conceal the rolls of fat stacked on her waist.

The young prince stood on the very platform where the surviving soldiers of Dracul’s contingent announced his assassination. He presented a sword in a black scabbard. You have been deceived by Hunyadi’s puppet, Danesti. I am the rightful heir to the throne of Wallachia. Those craven men murdered my father and brother. Why? Out of fear. Out of greed. They sold you and your families for their own profit. The crowd roared, seething and furious.

Emperor Sigisimund gave my father the sword of the Order of the Dragon to give him the power to protect Wallachia. My father protected you, and I intend to do the same. I will not sell your sons into slavery. I will not hoard our resources and deprive you of what you need to survive. The crowd roared again, not in anger, but in approval.

Traitors must be punished. I invite you to come to my court and feel safe in telling me who has threatened you, who has been spying for the pretender Danesti. You can light the fires and condemn the traitors to hell with your own hands! People began to shout names of anyone they felt had betrayed them. No one spoke to us like this before. No prince invited us to discuss our grievances with such openness.

Prince Vlad gestured to the crowd and they calmed a bit. His smile broadened as he surveyed the people. It is time to drive out the foreign aristocrats who want us to be their pawn and steal from our land. You deserve a prince who will protect and reward you for your hard work. With me as your prince, I guarantee you a dynasty of strength and self-reliance. And we will avenge ourselves against any influence that seeks to control us.

I couldn’t hear him after that. The din was overwhelming. The prince drew the sword from its scabbard and held it over his head. His smile bore teeth. With several flourishes of swordplay for effect, he demonstrated his intent to draw the blood of the enemy.

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t find this prince handsome, but I hated the thought of being anything like my mother. His young face bore a severity that commanded attention. His eyes were preternatural in their focus. Long black hair flowed over his shoulders like a shimmering inky flag, framing his clean-shaven face and accentuating his sharp nose and chin. His voice was smooth and full of conviction. As he spoke of his life and promises for us, it smoldered like a brooding fire and the crowd undulated before him. He was broad-shouldered, his piercing gaze penetrated the crowd for any signs of insurrection. His army stood by, ready for his orders.

Mother was captivated. Look at him. Such grace. He’s so much like his father.

I caught Dumitru’s eye and we made faces at each other. I sighed and stared at the ground. Even the prince’s alluring form couldn’t hold my attention as he went on about his vision for Wallachia. Living under the shadow of the prince’s castle made people either ambitious or fearful, and its influence on my mother was no different. She didn’t care that she was of no status for such hopes, it didn’t bother her that she had no understanding of the political world ruled by a select few. But Mother believed with enough effort, anything was possible. The complications of the unstable relationship between us and the Turkish empire never discouraged her. It wasn’t lost on me or Dumitru that we were her game pieces.

Mother’s rousing grip on the back of my neck made me stand up straight and I winced and reluctantly listened to the prince talk. With the noise of the crowd and our distance from the platform, I had a hard time hearing a lot of what he had to say. She was also bothered by the crowd, and pulled us through to get as close as possible. Guards protected him in a half circle surrounding the platform. "My brother Radu remains in the sultan’s custody. It was the only way I was allowed to return. But I came to free you. My uncle, King Bogdan of Moldavia, will send troops to assist us. Our allies prefer us to be a prosperous land. You will suffer no longer!"

I was amazed by the cheering and crying around me. An old woman wept, pressing a knotted prayer rope in her hands. She thanked God for his mercy, but lamented that her husband and four sons were not alive to witness this victory. They had all died in battle, fighting for Vlad II, she explained as she wiped her eyes with prayer rope’s tassle. A group of young men pledged to each other to volunteer for this new prince’s army. Men clapped each other heartily on the back, finding excuses not to go back to work for the day. Time to celebrate, they said. A drink of wine, in honor of Vlad III.

Contrary to custom, the prince remained near the platform after he ended his speech. Admirers were permitted to speak to him directly. Mother pushed me forward in hopes of making me stand out among the sea of tired and overworked faces. By the way she shoved and I stumbled through, I thought I’d only stand out as a drunkard.

When his eyes locked on mine, I was paralyzed. I must be fooling myself, I thought. But he was looking right at me with his basilisk stare. Mother’s heart must have soared when she noticed. Quick as a serpent’s bite, she took advantage of his distraction and offered up a thankful prayer. She pressed the kidnapped flowers into my sweaty palms.

I was fearful of being so close to a man of noble class. The feeling of exhilaration and pain in my stomach when I saw him smile at me made me feel like I was falling from a great height. I remembered when Dumitru dared me to jump from the roof of a stable when I was six. I hoped I wouldn’t wind up as bruised.

Mother vanished into the crowd and I was alone. He flashed a genuine smile, uncharacteristic of the temperament seen earlier. It gave me confidence. His arms opened to me. I wondered if I should speak first. Such was not our custom. I wasn’t even sure of the proper way to respond to any of his questions. He seemed to be making a generous effort to make contact with the commoners, so maybe he’d forgive my ignorance. He embraced me, kissing me on each cheek. His lips lingered longer than seemed proper. I held out the flowers toward his chest with a trembling hand, the petals brushed his cuirass like the wings of butterflies. He accepted them and kissed my hand. And who are you?

Ecaterina Floari, I said. I wanted to tell you…we appreciate your good will toward us. We’re grateful to have you as our prince.

His lips curled into a smile that was kind but was touched by bitterness. His rumbling laugh was sultry. I found safety by staring down at his armored boots. You trust me? he asked. I nodded, unable to speak. His gauntlet sounded a series of metallic clicks as he took me by the chin to make me look at him.

I’m sorry, my lord, I don’t know what to say, I whispered.

You can tell me everything about you.

I’m no one, I said, feeling helpless.

I don’t believe that.

I shrugged. I thought he must be teasing me. I could barely meet his gaze. It was as if his almond-shaped green eyes could extract my soul. His touch made my skin shiver and tickle in a way that funneled down my spine and into my hips. I live down the way from the tanner. My brother works in the fields. My father died in battle years ago, my mother’s a widow, Amelia Floari, she takes care of us.

And what about you?

I just came to say we’re happy about your return. My mother sent me as an emissary to deliver her thanks, though I’m sure I sound like an imbecile.

His surprised laugh delighted me. I’m glad you did.

As I gazed at the prince, I began to see through the formal vestments and find the young man who had to overcome the grief of losing his parents and brother and take command at great risk to himself. I noticed a scar that ran along his cheekbone. It was deep, but faded with time. I wanted to touch it and was surprised when my hand stretched out before me.

What is it? he asked, giving me a curious look.

I’m sorry. Nothing, my lord…oh, I’m being so inappropriate. I’m a fool. I couldn’t look away from him.

The more you say that, the less I believe it. You’re an honest girl and you speak from the heart.

I was wondering about the scar, but I shouldn’t point such things out, I said.

He laughed, stroking it in remembrance. When Radu and I were first taken hostage, I started a fight with a guard. I knocked him unconscious with his own shield before they got control of me.

Knowing the reaction he expected from me, I complied. My brother’s friends often regaled me with their own tales of bravado. I widened my eyes and bit my lip. You’re so brave. Just seeing you here with us gives me a lot of hope, knowing how much you would want to defend your home after being away for so long.

His expression provoked a smile from me. As I brought my hands down, my hand brushed his gauntlet. He caught my fingers and kissed them. His evergreen eyes read me so completely I felt there was nothing left to say. Thank you, my lord. I should return to my family. I’m sure you have many people to speak to.

I hope to see you again. I have every intention of making sure all of my people are happy, he said. I could tell by the way he looked at me that he wanted to run his fingers over my face. His eyes traced lines that I could practically feel.

Yes, my lord. I tried to give him a sweet grin, but I was trapped by my shyness. It took every ounce of my willpower to prevent my knees from buckling. I wanted to embrace him and run away.

I’ll be looking for you, he said. He squeezed my hands before he turned to talk with his officers.

I returned to Mother with an unsteady gait, my pounding heart made me deaf to the noise around me. I felt like a drunkard.

My mother was ecstatic. Very good, Ecaterina. He’ll remember you, I know it.

I guess so, I conceded.

I’m sure of it. Every chance he gets he looks over here at you.

I shuddered as I turned to see him staring at me. His sharp jaw pointed upward with imperiousness. I hid behind her like a small child, but she hauled me out into his view again. Stand there and look pretty. Make him want to come find you. She adjusted my dress and hair but I looked down and turned away from him. I flinched as her ragged nails dug into my neck again, cutting me. I looked over at him once again, but he was in deep discussion with his men. Can we go now? I begged.

In a moment. We must make the most of this chance.

Oh, Mama, he doesn’t care about us. He’s the prince. He’s only just talking to us because it makes him appear like he cares about us. He just wants our support, I said.

You think you know everything just because you spend minutes in his presence. You think that you understand his intentions? Don’t you think that I’m trying to give you the best life I can, you selfish ingrate? Mother spat at my feet. I recoiled at her glare, floundering from the bewildering experience. Dumitru offered a mere shrug as he followed her in a soulless retreat.

Chapter 2

A few days later, I had all but forgotten about the hurried inauguration of Prince Dracula. My time was taken up by ordinary chores. Even the memory of the celebration dulled for Mother as she mentioned it less and less. Dumitru’s days in the fields were long. Every night he came home tired, and she complained that he didn’t do enough around the house.

As I helped her clear the gravy-soaked plates from the table, a firm knock startled all of us. Mother went to the door. Guards? But what would they want? Maybe they’re looking for someone in hiding. Maybe the tanner is here to deliver the tarp for the wood, but why so late?

That drunken lout can’t stand up long enough to bring anything to us, Dumitru said as he watched her go to the door.

The man in the cloak as ominous as he was majestic. His garments too fine to be a neighbor, I assumed he must be a lost merchant or a military officer new to the city. His face was concealed in the night’s shadow and there was something about his bearing that was intimidating. "I seek shelter, Doamna, if you would be so kind."

Dumitru and I exchanged concerned glances as we stood in the back of our home that suddenly seemed too small. Please come in, sir, Mother said. What can we do to help you? Are you new to Tirgoviste?

One could say that, said the man as he stepped in and looked around.

Shadows of men withdrew from around the door, light glinting off armor as they vanished like ghosts. Who are those men? asked Dumitru.

My personal guard, said the stranger.

Please, sir, invite them in if you will. I have enough food for you all, offered Mother.

They’re content to stay out there. I seek only to warm up and learn something new about Tirgoviste.

Mother smiled at the opportunity to show off her hospitality. She poured brandy and prepared tea and gave me a meaningful nod toward our guest.

So I offered to hang up his cloak. He refused, opting instead to sit in the chair closest to the hearth. He looked up at the smoke-stained beams running parallel across the ceiling as he ran his hands along the heavy wooden table. I saw a shadow of a smile when he saw the herbs we’d strung from the beams, he sighed in relaxation. It smells wonderful in here with drying herbs. I’m fond of this time of year, the pork roasts and stews with barley are my favorite. Nothing quite like coming home to a meal that’s warmed the house all day.

You’re sure I can’t take your cloak? I asked, straining to get a glimpse of his face.

He bowed his head, obscuring himself further. Yes, thank you. I’ve had a long journey and just need to rest for a while. He turning away from me to look at Mother.

She nodded in agreement. Please, sir, have some brandy.

He accepted it and took a deep sip. As his hand brought the glass to his mouth, I noticed a pale mark on one of his fingers, as if a ring had been removed. I stared at the hand holding the glass, trying to figure out why he’d take it off. Maybe he hid it in on his journey in case of an attack by bandits. Although I didn’t see it fully, I felt his gaze meet mine and my embarrassment made me turn away. I hadn’t often listened to instinct, but at that moment, I knew the large pale mark on his finger meant something significant.

Mother distracted him with her conversation as I prepared a plate of food. What is it that brings you to Tirgoviste?

I’m here to help the prince’s council grow strong, he replied.

And we’re grateful for that. There was no better prince than his father. My husband died under his command, she told him and he nodded in solemn acknowledgment.

It’s good to know the prince is so welcome.

Oh, but of course, it was such a shame when Prince Dracul’s firstborn son died as well. But I had every hope that his other sons would return someday. People have always said Vlad III would be a great leader, she said.

They talked on and on about what the people around the city said. He seemed fascinated by her stories of what every neighbor thought about the Dracul family. To hear her talk, you’d think everyone in Tirgoviste was in awe of them them. Truth was, most didn’t care. One prince was like any other, collecting their tariffs and using the population as cannon fodder in wars that only mattered to those of the ruling class.

As I set the warmed plate in front of him at the mercy of my uncontrollable stare, he paused as he stood and started to unhook his cloak. Paralyzed by curiosity, I gazed into his shadowed face as he began to remove it. His smile captured me as I waited for him to reveal himself. And as it swept down, my legs turned to water as I recognized the prince. My squeaky gasp replaced the formal greeting due him.

My mother’s wits were quicker than mine. Prince Vlad! What an honor it is to have you in my home. Dumitru, go to the shed and get more wood. You’re letting the fire die out! Truth is, Mother was always mercilessly frugal with the hearth and my brother smirked as he went out the back door, muttering under his breath.

I remained frozen before him like a mute child. Mother hurried out the door to nag Dumitru, and their argument seemed to last forever. The prince’s sleek grin startled me. I could only speak my most immediate thoughts. This is not by chance, is it? You came to find me.

True. But I told you I’d be looking for you, didn’t I? One of my men followed you home, he said. My vision blurred as his hands reached out to hold my face. You’ve been on my mind ever since you introduced yourself.

And no other girls came to you?

None like you.

But we only spoke for a few moments, how could you even think of me?

Maybe I see something that you don’t, he said. I reminded myself that his training in the social customs of nobility matched his skill in weapons, and took years of effort. It was a skill, taught to him and it was probably as cold as the steel he wielded on the battlefield. If he could charm me as well as he could ride a horse, then I would be his consummate victim. Yet there was a sincerity in his voice that wasn’t protected by his station or experiences that hardened him toward the world, I don’t really know how I detected it. I had to believe him, not because he commanded it or that I even wanted to, but because it was inevitable.

I’m sure you’ve seen many things I haven’t, I said, surprised by my own sudden grin. I laughed at my own inexperience. Sure I had spent much time in the company of my brother and his friends, I found several of them handsome and thought about marrying any one of them, but I hadn’t practiced my flirting in such a way as Mother would approve. I was rough and wanted to tease rather than act like a lady. She always told me I was unrefined and careless.

I can show you anything, Ecaterina. All you have to do is join me and you’ll see the world you’ve only heard about. I don’t have much time, Vladislav Danesti will return and drive me out and if I have to go away to gather an army to return, I want you to remind me what I’ll be fighting for, a home and family. He sat at the table again. I was fixated by his gaze.

I was speechless, tempted to tell him to take me with him that very moment. I bent forward as he leaned in as if to share a secret, a fiery stare made his grin appear mischievous. When Mother and Dumitru came back in with more wood, the prince drew back to enjoy his meal. He told us about living with his uncle, King Bogdan of Moldavia after he left the sultan. He told us about Sighisoara, the city where he was born, and about his family. He entertained us with stories about growing up with his brothers. And he talked of the palace and how good it felt to be home. I was entranced by his worldliness. He asked about our lives and Dumitru was more than happy to share a few of my less than dignified moments, such as the time I had to walk home with practically nothing on after trying to play with a stray dog outside of the church when I was five. Heedless to any shouts for me to get away, I went to it, hands out trying to pet it. I don’t know why I thought its growling was playful. It tore my dress to shreds as I ran, and Father rescued me by lifting me up as people around us threw rocks at the dog to make it run away. Yet Mother was always careful to show me off to him and say what a good cook I am, how well I can embroider, and that I was a reliable and obedient girl.

The moon was high above us when he left. As the prince went into the street to find his guards, Mother shut the door with an unusual look of satisfaction. Even Dumitru was enchanted by the effects of the evening spent in such company. He repeated the stories told by the prince, winking at me periodically with a smug smile. Mother pestered me to no end, wanting to know every word said when I was alone with him.

So I lied, not wishing to feed her hope. Not much else than what he told you.

Dumitru rolled his eyes at me, making faces like he was kissing. I was thankful Mother didn’t see him, but I did feel myself blush, and she took it was a silent confession. I knew it! He does want you, doesn’t he? He came here to find you. I hope you did well by him, she said.

I’m sure I did. He was in no rush to leave, I said. I looked around our home as though I was no longer part of it. I’m so tired, I think I should go to bed. Leaving them as they finished the night’s last tasks, I went to the tiny room I shared with Dumitru. I changed into my nightdress, a simple ivory-colored gown that fell over me like a wandering blanket. I imagined the kinds of things the noblewomen wore to bed, sensing his eyes on me from far away and a shyness overtook me like a flood and I was ready to drown in it. Weighed down as if soaked to the bone I extinguished all candlelight and crawled into bed.

My dreams were haunted by my mother’s ambition and the prince’s tales. I saw myself imprisoned by thick castle walls, brilliant torches blinded me as I tried to find my way through shadowy corridors. Voices concealed by dense stone echoed like unseen ghosts. It was a maze that led me nowhere at first.

I ascended weathered stone stairs and left the confines of the narrow halls to emerge on a walkway that overlooked the city. No lights came from the churches and homes below. No one moved through the streets. The eerie desertion cast a dull silence that made me feel as if I’d gone deaf. When I called out to see if I was truly alone, my words were lost in a cottony fog.

Standing on the walkway, I watched a storm appear on the horizon. Magnificent displays of lightning were an approaching curtain. Fierce wind and rain followed. My hair tangled and my nightdress whipped around me, the cold torrent soaked me and I was frozen in place. I watched dark clouds tumble overhead as the lightning came down all around me. A flash blinded me as it appeared directly in front of my eyes.

When I could see again, the storm was gone. A new serene landscape lay before me as I stood on another walkway that was much higher than the battlements of the palace in Tirgoviste. I didn’t know where I was, but oddly, it felt like home. Trees covered the surrounding mountains. Still no sound reached me. The sky was now cloudless and the stars shone with a brilliance I had never seen before. Unfrozen, I was finally able to move, so I followed the path along the battlements, marveling at the beautiful view.

I eventually came to a tower. From that point I could see a river far below. The door was open but it was so dark that little was visible. From within the tower the moon’s glow illuminated a heavy wooden chest on the floor in front of the window. It was the only object in the space. It was Pandora’s choice.

Like my fateful predecessor, my curiosity failed my willpower and I knelt before it with my arms outstretched. The gritty rust on the chest’s latches brushed against my fingers like a cat’s tongue. The lid stuck as the hinges were reluctant to open as if in warning, but the key to my future lay within. As I reached in, I felt a chill like touching a tomb in the dead of February. Then my dream was cut short as a noise from the outside world invaded. I sat up in bed, frantic to discover its origin.

Dumitru was awake and standing by the window. As he noticed me, he smiled and pointed outside. Barrels fell off a cart, what a mess they’ve made. Look at you, it’s nothing.

I had a strange dream, just as I was getting to the end of it, and then this ruckus woke me up.

Dumitru’s smile erupted into a laugh. A dream? I’m sure of it. Don’t worry, it’ll come true. The prince’s hands will be all over you.

Oh, you’re so funny, I said as I threw my pillow at him.

He threw it back with much more force. Go to sleep, princess. Once he sees you for the troll that you are, he’ll send you back home. I groaned and turned away from him. It was a while before I fell back asleep, and was thankful it was dreamless.

Chapter 3

Several nights passed. Mother and I continued to prepare foods day after day for use in winter. When Dumitru came home from the fields, Mother conscripted him into fixing the woodshed to protect it from the elements, and the windows, and portions of the roof. He didn’t even find the time to tease me. I’d never admit to missing it, although I did. Whenever he mentioned that he was tired, she asked, Do you think winter will care? Do you think the storms will be gentle on us because you’re tired? So he surrendered in order to avoid her wrath.

Late one night, long after we went to sleep, I was wakened by a gentle tapping at my bedroom window. Always a light sleeper, it caught my attention at once, but my brother lay face down with his pillow over his head, his snores muffled underneath.

I sat up over the edge of my bed, hugging my blanket over my chest. Mother’s meager fire did little to warm our home and the floor emanated a chill that made me reluctant to put my feet on the floor. The tapping sounded again and I saw a flash of movement in the window. I got up and went over to open it, leaning out to peer into the night-soaked alley.

Ecaterina, rumbled a soft and familiar voice. The prince leaned slowly toward me, I could only see his face at first while my eyes adjusted to the torchlight that illuminated the city.

Prince Vlad, what are you doing here? I asked in a hurried whisper.

I came to see you, he said with a wry grin.

At this hour? Why?

I wanted to talk to you alone, He enveloped his hands over mine as I gripped the windowsill.

I cast a nervous glance at my brother, but he remained deep in slumber. He took my hands and pulled me further out the window. Come with me, he said. Let’s go out for a while.

You’ve got to be kidding, my lord! You don’t know what will happen to me if I get caught.

The prince winked as he tugged at me. I’ve spent many years eluding authority and punishment. You’ll be safe with me. Climb over.

The suggestion was irresistible. But I need to put something on, I can’t go out like this, I protested.

There’s no time, you can wear my cloak.

I shrugged as I pulled my nightdress up to climb over the windowsill. He took me by my waist to help me. Once I was on the ground, the prince shut the window. Draping his cloak over me as he put his arm around my waist, he