Missing Lily

by Annette K. Larsen

  “Who?”

  “I don’t know,” she answered calmly.

  “You don’t know? How can you not know?”

  “As we said,” my father interrupted, “it will be easier if you let us explain.”

  I clamped my mouth shut, wanting very much to hear this explanation.

  “Lorraina’s marriage was arranged several years ago, with Lorraina’s knowledge and cooperation. The reason that Lorraina does not know to whom is because she has placed her trust in us.”

  I was at a complete loss for words. In my mind, trust had nothing whatsoever to do with it. It was about being able to choose, making her own decision. I opened my mouth, wanting to say and ask so many things, but nothing would come out.

  “Lorraina asked us to do this,” my father continued.

  My focus shifted to my sister. “Why?”

  She lifted a shoulder. “You know how abrasive I am. I can’t be charming like the rest of you. I can’t be...soft.” I could hear the lump in her throat and knew how much it cost her to admit to such a fault.

  “But...to not have any say in the matter?”

  “If I meet him and we simply can’t get along, then we won’t force our relationship.”

  “And you don’t know who it will be?”

  “I didn’t want to know,” she insisted. “It has been a relief to know that I don’t have to make that decision—that it’s already been made. But I didn’t want to worry about meeting him until I was ready to be engaged, until I was ready for marriage. Can you imagine living for years, worried that you might accidentally meet the man you were supposed to marry? I don’t want to know his name until I’m ready.”

  Silence fell and I tried to process this abrupt revelation. In a way, it made sense. Lorraina was right, she had never been soft and approachable. She had a knack for unwittingly insulting those with whom she spoke. But still—to give up entirely on finding your own spouse? So many people were never given the choice; how could you knowingly forfeit when you had that option?

  After a long silence, I shook my head and admitted, “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Then perhaps we should move on,” my father suggested.

  It was then that I remembered he had mentioned our marriages; not just Lorraina’s, but mine as well. I turned my attention to the king, my stomach tying into knots.

  “Your choice of husband is going to be especially important, Lylin, because he will have to be suited to the role of king.”

  My breathing stopped for an interminable second before I breathed, “Why?”

  “We expect you to be Queen, Lylin.” He said it so calmly, as if it were the most natural thing. I, on the other hand, was going into a panic. It had been a possibility that had loomed closer and closer over the years, but I never truly expected it to happen.

  “What about Lorraina?” I asked desperately, looking to her. She sat there, looking content and unsurprised.

  “We have discussed it with Lorraina. She agrees with your mother and me. We all agree that you would be best suited to take over for your mother.”

  “But I can’t,” I insisted, my voice filled with the panic that ran rampant through my slight body.

  “You can.” Father’s voice was sure and irrefutable. “It needs to be you, Lylin. We’ve known it for several years.”

  “It should have been Ella!” I said it before I thought to keep my mouth shut.

  A deep sadness seeped into my father’s eyes, but he smiled through it. “I have no doubt that Ariella would have made a magnificent queen, but she chose her life.” I swallowed and blinked away the moisture threatening to surface. “I believe you will be equal to the task just as much as she would have been.”

  I couldn’t help looking to Lorraina. “You never wanted to be queen?”

  “Of course I did when I was little,” she readily admitted. “I wanted it because I wanted to be the favorite, or the best, or the most special. But I believe I know myself well enough to know that I would be no good at it. I can’t even wrap my head around it. I’ve known it was a possibility for several years and I still hate the idea.” She looked genuinely vulnerable. “I couldn’t do it.”

  That was where we differed. I was still panicked and scared out of my mind; I hadn’t yet wrapped my head around the fact. But I also knew that I could do it. I may not relish the idea and was completely overwhelmed, but I could do it. Because someone had to.

  A tear slipped down my cheek.

  My mother moved next to me, putting a comforting arm around me and speaking for the first time since the meeting began. “Your father and I fully expect to rule for many years to come. We want you to live your life fully, but you will have to prepare yourself, and one of the most important considerations you will have to make is your husband. In choosing a spouse, you will be choosing the next king.”

  The responsibility and expectation settled on my shoulders, threatening to drag me down. It was so heavy, and I feared I might physically crumble beneath it.

  Retreating to my room, I found myself pacing, my hands resting on my quivering stomach as I tried to digest the harsh reality set in front of me. My eyes lit upon the box containing the letter to Rhys and an idea struck me. I sat down, setting parchment in front of me, and started to write. This letter would never be sent, but the idea of being able to tell Rhys my worries was too compelling to ignore.

  Dear Rhys,

  I don’t know where to begin. I don’t know what to say or how to say it. I only know that I am overwhelmed, I am frightened, I am in a panic.

  How can it have come to this? I am the youngest, the very youngest. And not of three or four children, but of seven. There are six before me, and yet somehow it is left to me to step into the shoes of my mother, to fill her throne, to choose the man who will fill my father’s throne. How can I possibly choose a husband, knowing the immense burden I will be setting upon his shoulders?

  Suddenly, Lorraina’s idea of not having to choose appeals to me. I do not know how I shall do it. I know nothing of ruling a kingdom. An entire kingdom, can you imagine? How can it possibly be done, and by me?

  Perhaps you could do it for me. You could come and tell me how you’ve done it. After all, you’ve been managing an entire estate from the age of twenty, perhaps a kingdom would not be so entirely different. Would you be willing to help if I asked? Would you even be willing to speak to me if you knew who I really was? I wonder about that sometimes. I wonder if you would be angry to discover my deceit, or if maybe, just maybe, you might understand.

  I hope you would, because I find myself wishing for your company and wondering if maybe we could know each other again.

  See how foolish the prospect of becoming queen makes me? I am foolish—completely, utterly—foolish.

  Lily

  I finished, then put my head down on my desk, my emotions spent.

  ***

  Over the next two days, I walked around in a daze, wandering aimlessly, too anxious to sit still, and too preoccupied to pay attention to where I was going. Once I started noticing my surroundings, I recognized the worried glances that each of my parents were giving me and each other every time they saw me.

  That evening I had Missy pack my trunks and sent a messenger to Ella’s house, asking if I could come stay. The messenger came back with Ella’s enthusiastic reply and I left in the morning, confined to a carriage for the journey.

  Nathaniel handed me out when we arrived, giving a sympathetic smile. Lucky man had ridden his horse alongside the carriage along with Jarem.

  Though I was anxious to get inside, I couldn’t help admiring the bit of garden visible from the drive. It had a free spirited, bounding appeal to it. Gavin had worked the palace grounds for years before marrying Ella, and his love of nature translated to a gift when it came to growing things. I loved everything about their home, but the gardens were truly spectacular.

  I turned my attention to the door and was admitted by the butler, who asked to take my trav
eling cloak. I was just handing over my gloves when Ella approached, her hands outstretched. “Lylin, you’re here.” She managed to kiss my cheeks before I let my angst take over.

  “You, dear sister.” I pointed an accusing finger at her. “I am not happy with you.”

  “Oh dear. What have I done this time?” she asked, linking her arm with mine and leading me into her front parlor.

  “You have robbed me of my peace of mind,” I accused.

  She tilted her head as she looked at me. “And how did I manage that?”

  “You were supposed to be queen.”

  A triumphant smile slipped onto her lips as she gestured for me to take a seat. “But I’m not.”

  I sat in a huff. “Yes, and do you know who will be?”

  “Well, you, I’d assume.” She reached for a teacup.

  “What? How can you possibly think that?”

  “Am I wrong?”

  “No.” I practically snatched the cup she offered. “That’s the problem! They want me to be queen. It was never supposed to even get close to that being an option. I’m the youngest, it’s not supposed to be me. It was supposed to be you and you ruined it by marrying your darling husband—who, by the way, I adore. But still, you’ve put me in quite a predicament now, haven’t you?”

  She smiled in understanding. “You know what I’ve come to realize? Age bears little relation with being prepared to do what mother and father do.”

  “I know that,” I snapped.

  “Then why are you acting as though you are somehow exempt or unfit because you are the youngest?”

  “Why were you so surprised when father told you he’d been counting on you to take over?” I asked pointedly. “Are you going to tell me that had nothing to do with the fact that you had three older sisters who you thought would do the job? And—by the way—why didn’t Mama and Father ask Mia or Jensa to do it?”

  “They did.”

  “And what, they said no?” I asked, a bit sarcastically.

  “Essentially, yes. Saying no is always an option.” Her calm was getting under my skin.

  “Except for me.”

  “You could say no as well.”

  “No I can’t. The rest of you have all done that and so it’s left to me. If I say no then there is no one left.”

  “Do you really want to say no?” It was the first question she hadn’t asked lightly. This question required an honest answer.

  I let out a deep sigh, closing my eyes and shaking my head in frustration. “I don’t know. I’m just overwhelmed.”

  “What overwhelms you the most?”

  I was silent, knowing the answer but finding it difficult to say out loud. Finally, I gathered my courage and turned to look her in the eye. “I’ll be choosing the next king when I marry.”

  She gave me a pained smile. “I’m sorry for that, Lylin.”

  I huffed. “Not as sorry as I am.”

  She sipped her tea, studying me for a moment. “What about Lord Fallon?”

  I felt my eyes go wide and tried to look away. “What about him?”

  “You said you got along well.”

  “We were friends. He is already engaged.”

  Her eyebrows rose. “You didn’t mention that before.”

  “Didn’t I?”

  “No.”

  I tried to appear aloof. “It’s of no consequence.”

  She looked unconvinced, but let it go. “At least you know you’re not expected to marry by a certain age.”

  I smiled to myself. “I’ve always been glad that father was unconventional in that way. Though I’ve wondered at his reasons.”

  Ella narrowed her eyes in thought. “My guess is that since he knew one of us would be queen, he wanted to be sure that we knew who we were before we chose someone to spend the rest of our lives with. Our marriages have a much broader affect than most.”

  “Hm.” I considered her theory, and decided she was at least partially right. “Perhaps I should simply ask him sometime.”

  Ella smiled as she studied my face. “You look tired, Lylin.”

  “Thank you.”

  She gave a breathy laugh. “Why don’t you rest for a while? We have plenty of time to talk later.”

  I agreed and allowed her to lead me to my room, where Missy had already arranged my things. Climbing into bed, I tried not to think about the seemingly insurmountable task of choosing my country’s next king.

  ***

  In the morning, I found Ella in the nursery, holding up dress after dress as Guinevere rejected one after the other.

  “Is she always this picky?” I asked, laughing.

  “It’s either let her choose for herself or force her into one that I pick. I’m hoping she’ll grow out of it.”

  “And if she doesn’t?”

  “I can always hire a nursemaid.”

  “You wouldn’t,” I said with perfect confidence.

  “But I could,” she declared, pointing a finger at me.

  “Fair enough,” I conceded as Guin finally chose a dress. “Can I ask a favor?”

  “Of course,” Ella answered without looking up.

  “I need you to tell a bit of a lie for me.”

  Her head snapped up. “What?” she asked in bewilderment. “What could you possibly have to lie about?”

  “Would you go along with it if I told my guards that I was spending the morning inside with you?”

  Her brow was furrowed. “And what would you really be doing?”

  “Going for a ride. By myself.”

  She looked skeptical. “Do you think that’s a good idea?”

  I sent her a mock glare. “Would you like to count the number of times that you snuck away without protection?”

  She looked away, blushing pink while trying to hide a smile.

  “Don’t make me call you a hypocrite.”

  She gave me an innocent look that was, in fact, not innocent at all. “Would you like me to have Gavin saddle a horse so that you can slip out to the stables and be on your way after breakfast?”

  “Yes, please.” I sighed in relief as she went about the task of dressing Guinevere. I knew I could count on Ella. This was something that she understood all too well. I debated internally, then decided to take it a step further. “Ella.” She looked up at me. “Can I ask you something without you asking me why I want to know?”

  She was puzzled over my odd request for a moment before answering. “All right. I won’t ask your reasons, but I can’t promise to answer.” I nodded, acknowledging her terms. “So, what’s the question?”

  I took a breath of courage. “In what direction does Fallon estate lie?”

  Chapter 11

  AN HOUR LATER, I rode away from Ella’s home, unaccompanied. Since I was supposedly inside with Ella, my guards were technically off duty. Ella had happily, almost gleefully pointed me in the direction of Fallon estate and told me how far it was, then pulled Gavin into our plot and had him ready a horse for me.

  There was no plan in my mind of what to do if I actually came upon Lord Fallon, but no matter how many times I called myself foolish for my actions, it didn’t make a difference. I found the pond and skirted around it, easily finding the path on the other side. I pulled my horse to a stop on top of the hill that looked over the manor and could go no further.

  The minutes ticked by as I sat there, staring down at his home, watching the grooms and gardener go about their work. I felt stuck. There was no way I could just show up on his doorstep; it would cause complete upheaval for both of us. But turning my mount around wasn’t an option either. Rhys deserved to know I was all right.

  The front door opened and slammed shut. My heart tightened as I recognized Rhys striding toward the stables. He was pulling on his riding gloves, his coat billowing out behind him as he walked.

  A sadness settled into my chest as I watched him disappear into the stables.

  Moments later, he trotted out on his great, black stallion. I backed into the trees a
little farther to be sure he couldn’t see me as he rode across the fields.

  Then an idea hit me. A ridiculous, impulsive idea, but one that I could not resist. Once he was out of sight, I spurred my horse forward and rode straight up to the manor. Sliding off, I hurried to the door and pounded on it until a frazzled Rosamond answered.

  She froze, her eyes wide, her mouth gaping. “Little one,” she said, wrapping me in her warm embrace. “Miss Lily, dear, where did you go? What can I do for you?” She pulled back, scanning me with a thorough eye. “Are you well? Come in. Come in.” She made to pull me inside, but I dug in my heels.

  “No, I can’t, Rosamond. I’m sorry, but I cannot stay at all.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” She tugged on my arm once more, but I stood my ground.

  “Will you do something for me?”

  She stopped her attempts to force me inside. “Of course, anything.”

  “Will you tell Lord Fallon that you saw me? Will you tell him I’m all right?”

  “You will tell him yourself when he returns,” she answered in a tone that warranted no argument. “Now, come inside.”

  “I cannot. I’m sorry. But I am well and I just wanted you to know.” I gave her a brief hug and then pulled away, turning to climb back onto my horse.

  Rosamond came after me. “Miss Lily, you cannot just leave again. Please.”

  I hauled myself into the saddle. “Thank you for everything, Rosamond. I can never repay you.”

  “Just stay for a moment, Miss Lily.” She chased after me, panicked, and I couldn’t blame her. It was unfair, but it was the best I could do.

  “Goodbye.”

  Spurring my horse, I trotted away as Rosamond shrieked, “Miss Lily!” in exasperation.

  My horse galloped up the road before I circled around the pond and came back, just close enough to watch. Perhaps staying was a mistake, but my curiosity was too great, and I wanted to see Rhys again. I stayed in the cover of the trees and watched Rosamond as she paced the yard, twisting her skirts. She gesticulated wildly to Giles when he came out of the house, and was still pacing some time later when Rhys returned. Rosamond ran to meet him, jabbing her finger in the direction I’d gone, and a moment later he spurred his stallion to a full gallop, racing down the same road I had taken.