by CN Thornton
A scream drew my attention back to the woman in the tree, and I turned just in time to see her hit the ground.
"Oh my god!" I gasped, leaning forward. "Stop the carriage!" I shouted to the coachman.
I didn't bother waiting for the carriage to come to a complete stop before opening the door and stepping out. I ran across the expanse of the farm to the woman's side and knelt next to her. Now that I was an arm's length away, I realized the woman wasn't a woman at all, but a small girl no older than ten.
"Are you okay?" I asked as I sat her up.
She cradled her elbow, which was skinned and bleeding.
Before she could answer, Theodore was at my side. "You mustn't run off like that. If anything should happen—"
"Please, please don't take our home away. I know I am late on taxes, but you must understand," the child cried.
I looked at Theodore and he just shook his head.
"No need to worry, we aren't here to take your home." I rose to my feet and brought her to hers. "Let's get you inside so your mother can clean up that wound. You don't want it to get infected."
She stared at me wordlessly.
"That is your house just over there, isn't it?" I asked her.
The girl didn't answer.
"Or were you stealing crop?" Theodore cut in. "The punishment for stealing is having your hands broken."
The girl let out a frightened squeak. "I didn't steal anything, Your Royal Highness. That is my home and this is my family's acre."
"Then why don't you want us to take you inside to your parents?" Theodore pressed.
I placed my hand on Theodore's shoulder to silence him. "We are just trying to help you."
The little girl shook her head. "I can't take you to my parents."
"Why?" I asked.
"B-b-b-because, they are dead. My mother died giving birth to my baby sister. My baby sister died in the middle of her first winter and my father died last year during the summer. The medicine woman said it must've been a heatstroke," the girl finished in tears.
"You are alone, then?" Theodore asked her.
She nodded her head.
That broke my heart. This poor little girl had no family and was fending for herself. What Theodore proposed next struck a chord in my heart.
"You will come back to the palace with us. There, you will be given a position among Princess Emmaline's ladies."
"What? But I am too young," she said.
"Young girl, what is your name?" I asked.
"Louvier, Saoirse Louvier."
"Do you pronounce it 'Seer-sha' or 'Sir-sha'?"
"Seer-sha. It was my lula's name. She died the day before I was born, my mother said." I guessed as much that lula was what she used instead of grandma or nana.
"Well, Saoirse," I said, holding out my hand to her. "How about we get back to the palace and get you cleaned up?"
Little Saoirse hesitated but slowly took my hand.
The ride back to the castle wasn't dreadful like I'd thought it would be. I had something to look forward to. I could help change this girl's life. With the proper lessons and guidance, she could very well marry into a decent family and never have to worry about losing her home again.
"You are going to like it in the palace, Saoirse," I said as we passed through the main gate.
"Pull around back by the gardens," Theodore said to the coachman. "I want to avoid a scene."
From the gardens, we made our way up to the balcony and into the corridor that led to my apartment.
"LADIES!" I called out in a sing-song voice. "I have a surprise for you."
They came hurrying into the foyer of the apartment.
"A surprise?" Peyton repeated, sounding unsure.
I nodded my head, smiling, and stepped to the side. "This is Saoirse."
"Oh, a child," Moana muttered.
"Yes," Theodore said. "She is to be cleaned up and dressed appropriately. Once that is done, you will show her to your sleeping quarters and appoint her a bed. She will be your new apprentice."
They curtsied one by one before beckoning Saoirse forward and whisking her away. When she had disappeared into the next room, I turned to Theodore.
"That was a nice thing to do for her," I said as we walked out into the corridor.
"What kind of person would I be if I just sat back and watched a poor girl suffer when I could've done something to help her?"
I nodded my head. "Do you think she will be able to adapt to all that will be asked of her?"
"You did," he stated matter-of-factly.
I slowly shook my head. "I haven't adapted, I'm just surviving."
"Isn't that what survival is, Emmaline?"
I looked him in the eye. "That's semantics. My point is I'm not really living, am I?"
Theodore reached out to me and pulled me into his arms. "You need to stop talking like that. Remember what I told you. Life here is what you make of it."
"I haven't forgotten, and believe me I have tried. Do you think I enjoy being miserable?"
"There have been times I have speculated, I will admit that," he responded, his forehead creasing slightly.
"Wow." I laughed, offended yet slightly amused he'd had the audacity to say that. It was practically the same thing Sebastian had said to me on my last day in Australia: "You are a real piece of work."
Not wanting to hear any more, I turned and went back into my apartment without a second glance. I leaned my head against the door as a tear fell from my eye.
I knew I was messed up from everything my mother had put me through, but was I so damaged there was no hope for healing?
"Princess," I heard Layla call.
I wiped away any trace of tears and put a smile on my face as I turned around.
Now that Saoirse had bathed, I was able to see her better. She had a sun-kissed bronze to her skin—from always tending to the farms outside, as Theodore and my ladies had told me. Her deep-brown hair had waves that reminded me of the busy oceans in Australia. And her eyes… her eyes were a magnificent gray that sparkled in the light. She was precious.
I walked over to her and she gave me a feeble smile.
"You will make an excellent addition to my ladies. Of course, we will need to scrounge up some more fabric to make you dresses so you can accompany us through the castle."
"Absolutely, Princess. The next formal event is your wedding in three weeks, so I will make sure we have a proper dress for Miss Saoirse by then."
"Thank you," I said in a crisp voice, then turned back to Saoirse and smiled. "Would you like to go on a walk with me? I was thinking about getting some fresh air in the gardens."
She nodded and we made our way outside, walking in silence through the gardens for a few minutes before I got up the courage to speak.
"I know you haven't been here more than a couple hours, but I was wondering how you liked it so far?"
"It's nice," she said. "The water is warm here."
I laughed. "Yes, it definitely is. Have you seen your sleeping quarters yet? Your bed?"
Saoirse smiled. "Yes, I did. It's nice and warm and the bed is huge. My family shared a bed and it was always cold in our house."
I frowned.
"How long do I get to be here?" she asked me.
I put my arm around her. "The plan is for you to learn to be one of my ladies-in-waiting, and when you are old enough you will have the opportunity to marry a gentleman of title. When that happens, you will move into his home and no longer work for me."
"That's in a very long time, right?" she asked.
"How old are you?"
"Twelve." Not ten, as I had originally assumed by her small stature.
I nodded my head. "Right. Well, according to Linacrean law, when a girl starts to bleed she is considered a woman and eligible to be married. For the average Linacrean girl, that happens between the ages of fourteen and sixteen, so you have at least a few years until you even need to worry about it all.
"For now, just focus
on learning your lessons and your job," I finished.
I frowned when I thought about my advice to her. It was basically what I was being forced to do. Learn how to be a proper Linacrean woman, do my job and marry when the time was right.
"My mother would be proud to see me right now. Being a lady-in-waiting is an honor for those without a title. I'll do my very best to bring my family's name to honor," Saoirse said cheerfully.
"There's a good girl," I said, forcing myself to smile. "It should be near time for dinner. Let's go and see what we will be eating tonight." I took her hand and we started back towards the palace.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
My ladies knew something was wrong with me the second I returned from the walk with Saoirse. They spent the better part of the evening asking what was wrong, even while dressing me for bed. When I woke up the next morning, I sent them off with the task of teaching Saoirse her job to spare myself from their constant questions.
Did I really want to explain to them the confusing feelings I had for Theodore and the worries I had for Saoirse? The absolute last thing I needed was to pull their attention from their everyday duties, especially with the wedding nearing.
I felt myself growing heavy, as if my body was filling up with sand.
Technically, I was already married to Theodore, at least in the United States of America. Here in the country of Linacre, we would be considered no more than engaged for the next three weeks. After that, I would be taking on the duties of the queen.
Tuesdays and Thursdays now consisted of one-on-ones with the queen's adviser, Ellie, so she could groom me for my future role. Teach me more about my responsibilities.
A slender woman in her late forties with gray hair, Ellie looked stern but her personality was the opposite. By far my favorite person to be around when it came to my Linacrean studies, she was down-to-earth, a good listener and she gave good advice—which I think had to do with the fact that she had three daughters.
I had met them only once, when I had arrived early for my lessons. Faith, Hope and Grace—they were Ellie's miracles, or so she called them, because she and her husband had been told they couldn't have children.
The Queen adored Ellie so much she'd had the best specialists brought in from New Zealand to do treatments, and Ellie had conceived not one but three girls. All blonde with gray eyes and fair skin, just like their mother.
"A Small Sound of the Trumpet, Women in Medieval Life by Margaret Wade Labarge," Ellie began as she placed a book in front of me.
My eyes glazed over the cover as I picked it up and skimmed through it. I glanced up. "Why am I reading a book about women in medieval times?"
"Labarge delves through the various textures of women's lives in society, from queens to prostitutes. As you have come to know, Linacre is very old fashioned in many ways."
I glanced down at the book again. "Is this another lesson on me getting to know my people?"
With a knowing expression, she gave me a nod. "This brings us to the duties of a queen. Not only is a queen expected to provide heirs to the throne, she is expected to be active in charity."
"And you cannot help someone unless you know what they need," I finished. I leaned forward in my chair. "Theodore brought in an orphan child and gave her a position as one of my ladies in waiting. Does that count as charity?"
Ellie took a seat in front of me. "Yes, but it is very uncommon for a king or prince to enact—let alone allow—such extreme charity. It is considered inappropriate.
"The queen's charity work consists of basic things, like taking food to the hungry, handing out money to the needy, giving cloth to families that can't afford it but need new clothes, and even taking medicine to the sick."
"That doesn't seem hard at all."
"It can be very taxing. Especially when you only are able to help so many."
"What?" I said in disbelief.
"You are only allowed to give out so much, and this means you will have to pick who you want to help and who you will have to turn away. There will be times when people are so desperate they say terrible things, but you must be kind and keep a smile on your face."
I sat up straighter in my chair. "And how do I choose? If people are in need and we have all these resources, why can't we help everyone?"
"Dependency. We help some and turn others away so they don't sink into the comfort that there will always be a handout. We help them enough to keep them helping themselves."
For the rest of the lesson, we briefly read through various chapters of another book, Treasure of the City of Ladies by Christine de Pizan. It was similar in context to the first book but centralized more on life inside the courts. I liked it more for the dry humor in its lessons.
. . .
Relieved, I finally collapsed in my apartment's sitting room. The day's lessons were officially over and I would have no more for the next week—though I'd still have to study.
But I was free!
"Moana!" I called out, hoping she wasn't doing anything too important.
She came bustling in quickly from a door on my right and curtsied before me. "Yes, Princess."
"Can you send for Anya, please?"
"Certainly, Princess," She said, curtsying again before leaving.
I closed my eyes and let my head fall back, missing Bash and wishing he were here. I wanted a good friend with me. I needed a good friend.
"Princess," Anya's voice called as the sound of heels against the wooden floor filled the room.
My eyes snapped open and I held my head up to look at her. "Are there any plans for me and Theodore?"
She flipped through her agenda and then closed it with a snap. "None that I am aware of."
I frowned. "Is he busy?"
Anya gave me a sly smile before opening her agenda again. All the advisors had everyone's schedules for situations like this, so she flipped to Theodore's schedule and checked.
"No, Princess, he is available. Would you like me to pass along word that you would like to see him?"
I took a moment to think about it. Did I really want to see Theodore?
"Yes please. It is most appreciated."
She nodded her head, curtsied and then left. I crossed the room to the nook that sat in the corner and grabbed a random leather-bound book from the shelf, noticing it was slightly worn.
Out of curiosity I opened it and felt my throat tighten. This wasn't just any book… it was a journal. My father's journal.
Fingers trembling, I turned to a random page. It was dated January 26th, 1990—just three years before I'd been born.
It is official. King Edward's idea of having four additional monarchs to help lead below him has come to be. He has appointed Jepsen, Christiansen, Matheson and myself as the monarchs for the north, south, east and west parts of Linacre.
I leave tomorrow for the North, which is why I have decided to ask Her Majesty's lady-in-waiting, Lady Eleanore, for her hand in marriage.
She is amazing and beautiful and full of life, love and laughter. She is my one true love. She is my beacon in the night to guide me. She is my lighthouse to show me the way through any storm.
I simply cannot imagine leading the North without her at my side.
The hustle and bustle of heels against the wooden floor stole my attention and I glanced up from the journal just as Theodore strode into the room.
When he saw me, a grin spread across his face, seeming to melt away whatever stress the day had put on him.
I hastily marked my page and set the journal aside, then rose to my feet and sank into a curtsy.
"Your Royal Highness," I greeted.
"There is no need for you to address me with such formality when it is just us, Emmaline," he said, crossing the room to stand in front of me.
He took my hand into his and brought it to his lips. I made no acknowledgment of his attempt at a romantic gesture. Not because I didn't want to or didn't care, but because I had other things on my mind. Namely, my father's journal.
<
br /> Yes, I wanted Theodore here, but the ache to feel some closeness to the father I never knew commanded my full attention.
Theodore must've suspected something, because his expression grew worried.
Before he could even ask, I handed him the journal. He turned it over in his hands, opened it to the page with my father's name and then closed it again.
"I never got around to telling you I had a lot of your father's things moved into your room."
"When?"
"The night I told you about your father, back in America. I thought it important you knew who he was." He gestured to the bookcase. "All these books belonged to him. They are his journals, his studies, his work notes and his favorite literature." Theodore walked over to the desk a few feet from me and opened a drawer, then pulled out a wrapped parcel.
"I had intended to give this to you upon your arrival, but that didn't exactly work out and naturally, with all that was going on at the time, it slipped my mind until now." He handed me the parcel and I took it.
I carefully unwrapped it and found myself staring down at an album with "Lefevre" written on it in perfect calligraphy. It was beautiful, but not as beautiful as the picture I found preserved on the first page—my mother and father in what I recognized as Linacrean wedding attire. They looked radiant.
I turned the page and saw a picture of my parents in their regal attire, crowns worn proudly upon their heads. Beside it was a picture of my mother, who looked to be pregnant. I could only guess it was my late brother Daniel, since he had been first born, but the date was off. It preceded the wedding date, which meant he'd been born before they were officially married, and by several years.
The next pages held pictures of both Mom and Dad with baby Daniel, then pictures of him as he grew older. Soon came pictures of my mother round with child again, and little Daniel, who was twelve years old at the time, kissing her belly.
Then it was me and Daniel and Mom and Dad slowly aging through the pictures until they ended with one final picture of the four of us together. Writing on the bottom of the picture let me know that I was four and Daniel was sixteen.
