Against the Reign (2 page)

Three

“Leave the room. Shut the doors.” My father sends the guards out and I’m left on my own. My heart is pounding nervously, though I refuse to show it. I can’t help but wonder what punishment will come my way. He locked me in the dungeon once when he was angry. But at the time, I had spent three nights out and had had too much to drink, so spending a day and night in the cool, dark dungeon had actually been a blessing. He has tried threatening to remove my title so the kingdom would go directly to my little brother. That made me so excited I threatened to sneak out more. In a last desperate attempt to control me, he locked me in the stocks out in town. He thought perhaps public humiliation would humble my attitude.

That wasn’t my finest moment in life. It’s public knowledge, much to my father’s dismay, that I’m difficult. For any normal seventeen-year-old, that might be expected. But as a princess and heiress to the throne, it’s not acceptable. No sooner do we leave the womb than they begin training us for our future duties, forcing knowledge, manners, rules, and obligations into our brains before we can even toddle. It just seemed that no matter what I did, I was always messing up. I have anger issues, I know it—though I get that from my father, so I feel I can rightfully blame him. The exploding fire within me has led to many awkward encounters, both in the court and in public, leading rumors to expose me as untrustworthy and senseless. Not a great reputation for a future queen.

“I don’t even know what to say.” My father is standing by the fireplace, resting his head against his hand. In the dancing flames of the fire, his face looks worn. Because of me, most likely. I begin to feel bad, but then I remember Hassal throwing a rotten apple at me while I was in the stocks, and I’m back to angry again.

My father turns to me suddenly. “Do you not even show your respect for the crown anymore?” he demands. I didn’t curtsy when I entered; I quickly do so, though I know at this point it will do little to calm the storm. He only frowns deeper as I rise. His silence is unnerving; he must be furious.

“It’s not like I…”

“Silence!” He cuts off my pathetic attempt to explain myself. His face is burning red. “You have no idea the danger you put yourself into every time you sneak out! The danger you put this kingdom in!”

“I can defend myself…”

“Against a hundred men? If Etigan decides to kidnap you and hold you as a hostage? Do you ever think about anyone but yourself? And then they tell me that not only are in one of the most dangerous places you could be, you’re hobnobbing with the heir to the Etigan throne!” My father is yelling now even though he’s merely inches from my face. But I can feel my anger flaring up as well.

“How did you even know about that? You’re having me followed!”

“Of course I am! Do you think I’d let you sneak off every night, put the entire kingdom in danger, and just look the other way?” He takes a breath and attempts to calm his voice. “My family comes first to me. You know that. But I’m the king. I have a duty as well as a love for my kingdom. If a family member steps out of line and endangers that kingdom, my priorities have to shift. And I don’t want that to happen.” His voice grows even quieter. I’ve been avoiding his eyes, but when his hands gently hold my arms, I look up. “Virginia, my daughter, someday this kingdom will be yours. You’ll be the Queen of Newrock, and the people will look to you for guidance. You need to give them someone to look up to.”

My eyes immediately hit the floor. “I will never be queen.”

“Virginia…”

“No!” This time my voice is raised. “Those people don’t want to see me on the throne. They don’t trust me or love me, and I hate them just as much! How would they ever bow to someone they once laughed at while she was standing in the stocks? Or to someone they constantly gossip about while breaking their bread?” I break free of his grip as it’s beginning to tighten. “You know we’ve already worked this out. I’m not obligated to assume the throne until I’m married. So, I wait for Vian. He’ll come of age, get married, and I’ll graciously step aside and let him have it. Everyone wants Vian to assume the throne. Even you and mother want it. I know you do!”

“We both wish for you to take the crown!”

“That’s a lie! I visited the seamstress the other day when I tore my dress. I interrupted her while she was working on Vian’s coronation uniform. I’ve never seen a coronation dress made for me. You’re already setting him up to rule!” I hold up a hand to stop him from speaking. In a calmer voice, I continue, “I agree with you. Vian is everything a future king should be. The people already adore him, and he will serve them better than any king has before.”

For a moment, silence fills the room. I’m looking at the floor, but I can feel my father’s eyes on me. There’s nothing he can say to deny my claims; we both know it’s the truth. He walks back over to the fireplace and gazes up at the painting above it. We’re in the Reflection Room. It became so because of its location at the very top of the castle. From the balcony, one can see far into the distance, into the beauty that the land of Newrock possesses. Past the town, the hills roll away from us to the distant trees, thick and lush in the summertime. I come here often when I need to get away from life and imagine myself as a bird, able to fly away from here.

Above the fireplace is always a painting of the current king and queen, and my father gazes at the painting of himself while he thinks. He takes a deep breath. “The sword is broken.”

I follow his gaze to the sword on the belt of my painted father. It’s only part of a sword. The hilt is gold, not ornately decorated or showy, but beautiful in its simplicity. It was made for the Knight of Newrock before he was royalty, and it became a symbol for the people to remember that the quest for riches often leads to one’s fall. While the other knights-turned-kings had fought to conquer each other, Newrock defended its borders and left the other kingdoms alone. It was a story every child learned in their studies, and one deeply ingrained in my memory.

The fight was between the Knight of Newrock and the Knight of Etigan, in the battle that ended the fighting and set the boundaries of the two kingdoms. Etigan’s heavier sword had broken Newrock’s. But Newrock fought him with half a sword and still came off the victor. Even though Newrock is one of the smaller kingdoms, Newrock himself is still considered to be the greatest of the five knights. “The knight who fought with that sword became the first king of our kingdom, and he is your ancestor. So far, every heir to the throne has been a man. So you can imagine the surprise when we produced the first heiress.”

“I can imagine your disappointment,” I can’t help but break in. His eyes flash fierce, but he remains calm.

“I was not disappointed! You were healthy and strong. But I wanted to make sure you could handle yourself on the throne. That’s why I began sword training you so early. Why I taught you to defend yourself. I wanted you to be able to challenge any man that might someday try to overthrow you.” He pointed to the painting. “That sword is passed down to each new king or queen when they assume the throne. It will someday become your possession if you become queen. It is there to give strength to those worthy to hold it.”

I can hear the sentiment in his voice. I know he’s trying to reach my heart, to touch the emotional side of me so I’ll give in. But I made my mind up long ago, when I locked away those feelings and drowned the key in a bottle of mead. The throne would never be mine. I shake my head silently, and he lets out an exasperated sigh. Taking a last look at the painting, he walks to the door. Before leaving, he turns back.

“You are forbidden to go into the alley again. If I hear that you have set foot in Thumbstole, I will burn that alley to the ground.” The door slams behind him.

I have a feeling Ward and I will have to find a new place to dance.

Four

“Do we have to be up so early?” I snap at the unfortunate maid that is sent in to prepare me for the day. The sun has just barely awoken, and already they’re insisting I dress. My head is pounding and I can barely open my eyes.

“Your parents are preparing to leave, Princess! Don’t you want to say goodbye?” Her voice is short with me. She doesn’t want to be here anymore than I want her here.

“I said goodbye last night.” I’m still angry with my father for threatening the alley. And for having me followed. And for the stocks.

As if we summoned him, my father suddenly barges through the door.

“What is this about you bringing some girl off the street into the castle?” he booms. I cover my ears and squeeze my eyes shut; I really didn’t think I’d had that much to drink.

“She was in trouble. Her son needed help.” I force my eyes open to look at him. “Isn’t that what a queen would do? Help a poor person in need?”

“She could be a spy sent from Etigan! Help a person in need, yes, but they have to be cleared by our guards. You could have endangered us all last night! You have no sense! You don’t think!” He’s growing louder and louder. While I sink into my chair and attempt to disappear, my mother hurries in.

“What’s going on?”

“Out!” With one word my father sends all the guards from the room. The maid who is attempting to brush out my hair hurries away, too. “Virginia, we haven’t been telling you and Vian everything that has been happening lately.”

The seriousness of his voice gets my attention. I look over at my mother and the look on her face confirms it.

“There was an attempt on your father’s life,” she says.

“When?” I ask in surprise.

“During my visit to Garneta. Someone tried to get into the room I was staying in. The guards stopped him from harming me, but he got away, so we were unable to question him. But evidence the guards found while searching for him suggests the attack may have been from Windem.” Father takes a seat on the edge of my bed and lets his hands drop into his lap. Light from the window catches on his crown, and I have to move so it doesn’t blind me. I gaze at the crown while I think. Circular and golden, it features a spade shape in the front with a diamond in the middle. Around the rest of the rim are the guards of the spade, shapes that resemble burning bushes. I used to wonder if it was heavy. Once, I snuck into their room during the night to hold it and find out. When I attempted to grab it, I pricked my finger on one of the shapes. Startled by the pain, I knocked over both his and my mother’s crowns, and the diamond fell out of his. After that, a guard was posted outside my room to keep me from sneaking out again. Which is why I learned to sneak out the window.

“I didn’t mean to endanger anyone,” I say after several moments of silence.

“And what do you plan to do with her now?” Father asks. “She is being questioned by the guards. If they clear her, she says you offered her a job.”

I have to think fast, which isn’t easy this morning. “I need a maid.”

“We have many,” Mother says.

“Yes, but I need a personal maid. I want one who only listens to me and is there whenever I need her.” That sounds like a win-win situation for Marguerite and me. I can tell my parents don’t like it, but a horn sounds from outside.

“The carriage is ready,” Father says to Mother. She nods and straightens her red traveling dress. Her honey-brown hair is braided down her back. I study her delicate features, wishing for a moment that I resembled her the way my brother does. I look like our father, with my dark brown hair, light brown eyes, and mannish features.

“We will meet you outside,” Mother says, and they leave. The maid returns to finish helping me dress, and I return to grumbling at her.

Once dressed, I head down the many stairs to the ground floor of the castle. A handsome young man in a royal uniform is standing in the entry hall, and at first I think we have company. When I see who it is, my hands cover my mouth.

“Oh, Vian!” My little brother is not so little anymore. Though I’m not short, I didn’t get the full height that my father has. But apparently Vian did; at only fourteen, he’s already taller than me. I look up into his deep brown eyes, smiling as I stroke his cheek. “I almost didn’t recognize you!”

“This is what my coronation uniform is going to look like. The seamstress wants Father to approve it before he leaves,” Vian says. “Do you like it?”

“It’s perfect! I feel like I’m looking at the king already!”

“Well, I won’t be king for a while. You come first, Sister.” He playfully punches my arm. I shake my head.

“We both know that would be a disaster. When you marry—which you will, as handsome as you are—the throne is yours.” A guard comes in with my brother’s sword. I take it, give it a few test swings, then offer it to him with a bow.

He takes it, laughing. “Show off.”

“My lady!” A door opens and Marguerite emerges. She has on a maid’s garb, simple gowns made from earthy tones and a short veil covering her hair. She beams and curtsies low to the ground. “They told me they would find a place for me! I can’t thank you enough, Your Highness! I thought my son and I would end up on the streets!”

“I’ve already found you a place, Marguerite. You’re going to be my personal maid,” I tell her.

“Really?” Her eyes light up.

“Yes.” I pull her to the side and speak quietly. “I know when you’re around the other servants they expect you to call me things like ‘Your Highness.’ But when we’re alone, please, call me Ginny. I’d rather you be my friend than my maid.”

“I can be both, Your High…I mean, Ginny! You’ve already done so much for me!” She seems pleased, so I just nod, and we return to my brother.

My parents arrive and make a fuss over Vian in his suit. After bidding him farewell, they turn to me. My mother kisses my cheeks and walks away after giving me a stern look. My father lets out a deep breath.

“Remember what I told you about the alley,” he says. I nod. “We’ll discuss this more when I return.”

He kisses my cheek and I curtsy quickly. I’m glad to see them go. After our disagreement, getting some space is the best thing for all of us. Once they leave, Vian goes to change. I beckon to Marguerite.

“I’m hungry. Have you had anything to eat?”

“They fed me in the servants’ quarters,” she says.

“You can keep me company while I eat, then. We need to talk anyway.” We head to the kitchen where I confiscate a bowl of soft oats with milk and honey. I decide we’ll go to the Reflection Room so we can talk in private. There is always a guard patrolling around the Reflection Room, and I ask him to leave us in peace.

“Wow! Look at the view!” Marguerite hurries to the balcony. A breeze is blowing today, and it’s always stronger up here than on the ground. I take a deep breath of the sweet-smelling air and glance down at the balcony below this one. It’s far below, but someone is there, gazing across the courtyard. I think it’s Ferrant, another member of my father’s court. Not wanting to attract attention to myself, I plop down on the balcony to eat. Marguerite leans on the stone parapet. “I like this room.”

“Me, too. I come here a lot. Just don’t lean right there—the stones are loose.” I point to the stones to her right. She takes a step back and sits across from me.

“That’s a nice painting of your parents.”

“I guess. I’ve never understood why it has to be so big.” I imagine my giant head up on the wall someday and grimace. I take a last bite of oats and put the bowl down. “So, where did you come from? You’re obviously not from Newrock.”

“Actually I’m from Etigan. The part that used to be Descrete.” She refers to one of the original five kingdoms that was conquered by Etigan years ago.

“That’s far from here. How did you get here?”

Marguerite’s face darkens and she spends several minutes looking out across the countryside. I give her time to reflect and she finally speaks.

“I met a man. A professor’s son. I thought he was a wonderful man. He was smart, well-educated, and from a good family. We fell in love quickly, and well, we spent a lot of time together…” Her voice trails off.

“You got pregnant?” I say. Her head lowers.

“Where I’m from, it’s a disgrace for a woman to a have a baby with no husband. My parents were furious. They had liked the idea of me marrying him, because his family was well-respected. But the baby would spell trouble for us all. They met with his parents and told them what had happened. His parents were unhappy, and forbade us from ever seeing each other again. They told my parents about a healer in another town that could make the baby…disappear.” She whispers the last word, as if afraid of it.

“They were going to kill your baby?”

“And to make it even worse, the man I thought loved me, the man I thought would fight for us, agreed with them. I was completely alone.” Marguerite rubs her eyes and takes a moment to compose herself. “So, I boarded a carriage with my mother and we left to find the healer. I was so distressed, I just followed her. But when we made it to the town, I came back to my senses.” As she speaks, she caresses her lower abdomen. “I could already feel him moving, Ginny. He was so precious to me, even if his father had cast him off. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t! So I ran. I took the money they had given us for the healer and I ran. And I kept running. I tried to spend as little as possible, and I spent many nights on the streets in fear for my life. But I managed. Finally, the time came. A lovely couple I met took me in, and I gave birth there. They helped me while I was recovering. I thought I had found a place to stay, but then I discovered they were searching for my parents. I was afraid to be found out, so I left. Eventually, I ended up in Thumbstole. But I was running out of luck.”

“Many people run out of luck in Thumbstole,” I chuckle. She smiles.

“Actually, I found some there.”

“Is your baby getting better?”

“He is. He’s with Milli.” She speaks of Ward’s mother.

“I don’t mind if you bring him with you. You don’t have to leave him behind.”

“I would like that very much.”

We leave the room to go get him. When she scoops the child into her arms, the love on her face radiates through the room. I feel even better about my decision to bring her here.

“What’s his name?”

“Monroe.”

“I like it.”

“Thanks. It was my grandfather’s name. He was a great man when he lived.”

“May he rest in peace,” I say, out of respect.

“Thank you. Would you like to hold him? Just watch your hair and face—he’s into pulling things lately.”

I take the baby again. His little face isn’t as red as it had been and his eyes are open wide. I tickle his chin and earn a smile in return.

“I like him,” I say. It’s rare I get anyone to smile at me.

Our day is mostly spent in my room. Marguerite takes care of Monroe and I read out loud. Ward comes to visit us for a while and we laugh together; I’m glad Marguerite gets his sense of humor. We tell her about Liam and our excursions in the alley. I tell Ward about my father’s threat.

“Well, that’s that I guess. I know another place we can go,” he says.

“Except that I’m apparently being followed,” I point out.

“There are ways around that, too. We just need to figure out who’s following us. Marguerite, next time we go out, do you think you can come? My mother can watch Monroe,” Ward says.

“You should, Marguerite. It’s so much fun,” I add.

“I would like to, if Milli doesn’t mind, Ward.”

I smile and settle back on my bed, thinking about our next outing and wondering if those minstrels I like can be there, too.