“You look fine.”.
Eliza reached out her hand and placed it on Lucie’s shoulder. She hoped the maiden would not change her mind, that she was not having second thoughts.
“No, it isn’t that.” Lucie said, barely above a whisper. In that moment, Eliza wondered if it were the powder making Lucie turn grey, or the fear.
Lucie grasped Eliza’s hand on her shoulder, clutching it between her fingers. The two stared into the mirror ahead, as the new versions of each other.
“Elizabeth, what if they come for you?” Lucie asked. Eliza had feared that question. “If they come for your execution and take me?”.
“If you feel it is coming close to that, tell me. I know a way.”.
Eliza, having a bright stroke of inspiration, ran over to the closet. Lucie peered over her shoulder.
Pulling out a black sheet, Eliza held it against the barred window. She measured it across and vertically, turning to Lucie.
“If emergencies happen, tie that sheet to the tower window,” She explained. “I’ll come to the tower, and we can swap back.”.
“Yes, but what if they can see that we look different?” Lucie asked, rubbing at her arms.
Eliza could see that she was nervous, it was never hard to see. She glanced over at her reflection in the mirror. There was a chance someone would notice, but there was a greater chance that they would not.
“Then it will all be over, and I will hand myself in.” Eliza said.
‘I’m putting her in danger,’ Eliza thought, ‘Why are we doing this?’.
She was endangering her friend’s life for her own sake. Lucie still had a life to live, a person to be. Yet, she was the one risking that.
“Lucie, I’m starting to realise how terrible this idea is,” Eliza sighed. “It will never work, and it’s risking your life—".
“Stop it, Elizabeth.” Lucie warned, gripping a tight hold on her arm.
Eliza showed a fake smile, acting like the air sparked her interest to avoid Lucie’s glare. The reality was hitting her in sudden thoughts, and her gut said to go back, to forget the idea ever surfaced.
She had forever been the mischievous one of the two, the one who took risks and produced the plans.
Lucie was the one who begged her not to, who ran away at the smallest of challenges. She would never understand what had changed.
“I’m serious.” Eliza said, watching as Lucie walked away. The maiden crossed the room and reached an arm into her satchel.
Eliza’s fight mode froze as a hard object collided with the back of her head. A striking pain flooded through her, as she spun around in a rage.
“Lucie!” She yelled, watching the maiden’s face show a tinge of regret. Eliza clasped her head and turned to the floor.
A book lay at her feet, as her blurring eyes focused on the title. ‘The Maiden’s Handbook’.
Bending down, she gripped the handbook and held it in the air. Lucie folded her arms, nodding to the novel.
“The Maiden’s Handbook?” Eliza laughed. “It looks useful.”.
“It will be,” Lucie replied, “It was given to me when I first joined the royal court, as a rulebook.”.
“You didn’t need to hit me with it.”.
“You were being foolish.” Lucie said, “We both think we should not be doing this, which is precisely why we are.”.
Eliza opened the handbook, glancing at the words inside. Chapter titles and formal fonts met her eye, hand-written by an unknown author. Smirking up at Lucie, she handed it back.
“I don’t follow rules.”.
“You do now; you’re in my shoes,” Lucie paused, “And I’m in your dirty ones.”.
Lucie took the novel from Eliza’s hand, dropping it into the satchel on her arm. Taking the hint, Eliza took the bag from her.
“This is it?” Eliza said, brushing the wig-hairs behind her ear. Lucie pulled her brown hairs over her face and fixed the collar on her shirt. Their plan was set, and there was no going back, without getting hit with a book.
Lucie’s maiden outfit was slightly painful, but bearable. Eliza had never worn an outfit so elegant before, with its countless layers and glistening crystals, Lucie’s dress made her look like a first-class courtier.
“This is it.” Lucie smiled, reaching out her hand for Eliza’s. She held it in her own, and gripped tighter realising that both hands were trembling like snow-struck leaves.
Eliza had been reckless, but this would be the wildest thing she had ever done. A strong will surged within her, masking the feelings of fear. Whatever it was, something forced her to push on.
“Remember; keep your head low, don’t interact with guards, and don’t be near The King.” Lucie warned.
“What if he recognises me?”.
Lucie had pulled out a metal tray, placing it atop of the satchel in Eliza’s hand. It covered it well, until Lucie began placing a silver cup and plate on the wobbling tray.
“That is what I would fear; he’s been hunting you down for months.” Lucie said. “Thankfully, he never acknowledges the ladies-in-waiting.”.
The satchel tucked beneath the tray, and her disguise perfected, Eliza prepared to set off. Lucie was right, she was not herself.
For what little time they had, she was a well-respected maiden who plastered on a smile.
“Remind me again, where is your room?” Eliza asked, as they walked over to the tower door.
She knew Lucie’s room was in the depths of the castle but had never thought on exactly where. The kingdom itself was gigantic, like a single dungeon cell could be the size of her house.
“You go through the back, up the staircases, and there you find The King and Queen’s quarters. My room is downstairs from there.” Lucie sighed, opening the tower door.
With a final glance, she walked out towards the staircase. The stone echoed beneath her heels, and the tray trembled in her hands.
Dawn fluttered out to join her, stopped by Lucie slamming the door half-shut, leaving enough space to peek out.
“Goodbye.” Eliza whispered, “I will return, I promise.”.
“You swear?”.
“Solemnly.”.
Eliza started walking down the spinning stairs, the gown flouncing at her feet. Lucie’s shaking smile was the last of what she saw, before the tower door shut, and she was alone.
‘You’re Lucie now, you must be.’.
Even if it were not hers, she felt proud in the ladylike uniform. She thought of where she was to go, and what she had to do.
Working underneath Richard’s wife, she did not know what to expect.
Rumours told her The Queen was sweet, and that she and The King admired one another greatly.
The people romanticised her like a summer rose, and her marriage to King Richard had lasted over fifteen years.
Eliza felt a chill down her spine, rushing down the stone steps. Faintness fell over her, and the spiralled staircase made matters worse.
The leather satchel trembled beneath her tray, making the cups on top shake. She prayed internally for them to balance, to silence.
Wobbling her way down the stairs, her foot stuck on a crack in the stone, tripping her over.
Eliza felt herself toppling forward, her hands loosening from the satchel and tray.
A flash of the silver cups flew past her eyes, before she only saw stone. She fell forward and struck the coarse stone, laying face-first on the stairs.
The solid surface pressed into her ribs, sending a sharp strike of pain. The cups and tray collided with the stairs, making a deafening bang.
Eliza instinctively clutched her ears. Her eyes were shut, and nose pressed against the stone.
“Ma’am?” A voice called out. Eliza groggily raised her head, to see two boots standing ahead of her. Two hands clutched hold of her forearms, slowly lifting her to her feet.
Standing onto shaking legs, she dusted down her gown. Her heart skipped a beat, as she reached for the wig on her head. It still sat firm
ly over her hair.
“Lucie?” The voice asked, “Are you hurt?”.
Thomas McGlynn stood ahead of her, smiling in pride. His face looked softer than before, as he stood like a literal knight in shining armour.
Eliza scoffed, watching as his face fell. The sudden courtesy was strange, like he was a new man entirely.
‘Lucie, you’re Lucie now,’.
Thomas reached for her hand, taking it in his own. He looked up at her in bright assurance.
“Come with me, I can take you to a doctor,” Thomas said, “You’ll be safe with me.”
‘Dramatic,’ Eliza thought, wincing with second-hand embarrassment. ‘Even Lucie never knew why he cared about her, he just did, didn’t he?’.
“Forgive me,” Eliza replied, in Lucie’s dainty tone. “I lost my footing, but I am fine.”.
That was a lie. The pain in her lungs made her head shake, while Thomas’ face became a long-sighted blur.
“No! Forgive me!” Thomas mumbled, giving a half-hearted smile. “I mean to say, sorry.”.
‘Fool.’ Eliza thought.
Nodding, she walked around him and continued down the steps, lifting the tray and cups.
When Thomas had his back turned, she scooped up the satchel and hid it again.
Thomas moved to her side and walked downstairs alongside her. His jolly attitude returned, as he opened his mouth to speak.
“I can walk myself down, thank you.” Eliza said. It was agonizingly annoying to be nice to him, and she could understand why Lucie believed that the guards were good. They would have been nice to Lucie.
Thomas froze on a step, and she could sense him gazing after her. Eliza continued walking, while he did not.
“Oh, I see.” Thomas answered, disheartened. He followed down the stairs five steps behind her, mumbling to himself.
Turning back, she gave Thomas one last look. His face was fallen to the ground, as he mumbled and scolded himself. Opening the tower door with her free hand, she left the tower.
“He’s still an arrogant toad,” Eliza whispered, as a reminder to herself.
Reaching the outdoors, the cold breeze hit her face, and the wind blew her blonde-hairs through the air. The winter had indefinitely reached the town, as the days got darker than before.
“Good morning, madam.” A familiar voice greeted. Captain Edward stood behind her, with a proud smile. “Did I permit you to enter?”.
“P-Permit?”.
“I never noticed you enter the tower,” Edward said, “It was to deliver essentials, presumably?”.
“Yes.”.
Eliza was at a loss of what to say. There was an intelligent tone in his words, and she prayed that he did not see through her, that he knew.
“I see,” Edward murmured, “I mean no harm to you, but there was some trouble this morning.”.
Eliza kept her head low, nodding into the satchel. The echoing steps of Thomas could be heard from the tower, as he backtracked to lock her tower room door.
“Indeed, I heard the commotion.” Eliza said.
Her heart worried that she had made a mess of things, that she had ruined the plan before it begun. There was no denying that Edward was a strange one, for she could not sense if he were oblivious, or extremely self-aware.
“I suggest you return to the castle with haste, and be careful,” Edward warned, “You never know who could be wearing a disguise.”.
She felt her chest sink. He truly was the most confusing man she had met, the most unreadable of characters.
“Sorry?”.
“The assassin, they wore a hood; a disguise.” Edward said, “I advise you be cautious, until we arrest the vigilant.”.
“Yes,” Eliza muttered, “Yes, of course.”.
In an awkward spin, she stepped away from the knight. Her feet sped along the grass, and she never gave a final glance.
‘I’ve broken a rule already,’ Eliza thought, ‘Don’t talk to knights.’.
In the first few moments of their plan, she had fallen down the steps, spoken to two knights and almost shattered the silver tray.
She entered through the gardens, proud and tall like she knew where she was headed.
Once again, she was mesmerised by the majestic flowers that existed there, each holding its individual colours, marks, and stories.
Eliza made a mental map of the castle, using what she knew and what she had learned from Lucie. She made a note to not let herself become revealed, and simply act like Lucie would.
‘Only if it were that easy.’ She thought.
The large doors of the castle were ahead, with two knights on stand-by. Lowering her head, she skipped through the back entrance.
Entering through the doors, she kept her head low and back tall. The tray trembled in her shaking hands, clinking with the silver.
Her muscles strained as she held on tight to them, careful not to repeat her mistakes. The corridors felt longer as she skipped through them, thinking of the last time she had passed the walls.
The memory of that day gave her a daunting chill down her spine.
“To your right, up the stairs,” Eliza whispered, repeating it under her breath. No sooner than she said it, the staircase appeared in front of her, glistening in gold and royal décor.
Her feet moved efficiently down the halls, as her gown flounced out ahead. The corridors were deserted, the only sound her own breathing.
The two doors of The King and Queen’s quarters appeared, and she knew where she was headed in a heartbeat.
She met the Queen’s quarter’s door before she could find herself any unwanted acquaintances.
Taking a huge breath in, Eliza tried to knock the door, knocking with her right hand, and holding the tray in her left.
Her knock made such a faint sound with her shaking hands, and she knocked again, a little too loud.
A shuffling came from inside the room, and a few inaudible whispers to match. A click came from the lock.
The tall door pulled open, revealing a sour-looking woman.
“It is about time you appeared, Lady Benson.”.
7
Royalty and Roses
Elizabeth stood motionless, keeping her head low. The sour-faced woman had let her in, eyeing her with beady eyes.
“Were you supposed to be on duty today, Miss Benson?”
“I was...” Eliza paused, “…Ma’am.”.
“Lady Theresa, to you.” The sour woman objected. “Goodness, you have lost your manners and your posture.”.
Lady Theresa marched toward her, raising a wrinkling hand to her chin. She forced her head upwards, and her shoulders back.
Eliza already loathed the woman. Her sour face, her long wrinkles, her entitled manners. She was horrid, no doubt.
‘No surprise she works for The King.’ Eliza thought.
There was a keen sense that the woman hated her, or Lucie, too. Lady Theresa scowled at her like she was a stubborn child.
‘She’s old enough to be my ancestor.’ Eliza thought.
Eliza remembered the satchel in her hands, and carefully raised the handle of the bag with her hidden index finger, covering it with the tray.
“A word of advice for you all,” Lady Theresa announced, turning her back to Eliza and looking to the other two maidens.
“This town is facing threat, from witches to assassins.” The woman began, “Furthermore, rumours are surfacing the castle, regarding our King and Queen. You must not speak of this to any outsiders, to maintain the royal reputation. Are we clear?”.
All three maidens nodded, and silence filled the room. Giving a final nod, Lady Theresa swept out of the room, the door slamming behind her.
“Dear me, that was quite a show.” A sweet voice spoke. “Lucie?”.
Eliza’s eyes perked up, meeting that of the two maidens. One had crossed the room to her, with crystal-blonde hair bouncing in her stride.
The girl took hold of the tray and placed it down on a chair. Eliza gently placed
the satchel on top, clutching her hands behind her back.
“Hello.” Eliza said, forcing a smile.
“You look like a ghost!” The maiden squealed, “Don’t worry, we all know Lady Theresa’s a wicked--”.
“Cynthia! Enough from you!” A second maiden interrupted, gesturing toward Eliza. “Come here, we need to warm you up.”.
The other maiden took hold of her shoulders, guiding her toward a steaming fireplace. Eliza felt safer in the arms of this other woman, than she ever could have with Lady Theresa.
“She’s ice-cold, Mariah!” Cynthia called.
The Queen’s chamber surrounded her, filled with grandeur. There was a wide bed with satin sheets, and cross-hatched windows with gold lining.
A large dome was overhead, and the walls were grey brick and wood. There were plush chairs, portraits, and exquisite flowers. The room felt too rich for Eliza to look at.
“Thank you.” Eliza said, imitating Lucie’s well-spoken tone. Mariah rested down beside her, crossing her legs. Eliza imitated her posture.
Bewitched Page 7
