Chapter 1
I sat on my small window seat, quietly watching a brown sparrow in the tree level to my window. It was swaying on a thin branch, singing at the top of its little lungs. I smiled. The tiny bird was so plain and brown, yet had such an amazing voice! I could play well on my wooden flute, but nothing comparable to this! I closed my eyes and listened to the sweet, piping notes flow around me. How did birds know what notes to sing, I wondered.
The hinges of my door creaked. I frowned. I hadn’t felt a breeze… The patter of running feet met my ears, and before I could turn around, I felt two strong little hands hit my back and shove me straight out the window! I hit the grassy ground outside my window with a thud. As I tried to sort myself out, I heard a nasally laugh. I clenched my teeth and picked myself up, looking to my low, second story window. There stood my pudgy, spoiled little cousin, Albert. Just as I had expected. He was amazingly fat, and his eyes, crinkled in the corners from his sneering smile, were almost slits. Though I was 7 years older, I was the lighter, and sadly, he had no trouble pushing me around.
My cheeks burned at the humiliation, and I tried to keep my anger in check. I seldom got angry with anyone, but my patience was tested ruthlessly by Albert. I brushed myself off as best I could. I still was a mess, due to the fact that the morning sun had yet to burn off the moist dew. The wet grass stuck to back of my gown. Albert stood watching, thickly padded chin wobbling in his amusement.
“Good morning!” he said, in his nasally voice.
“Lyn, why DO you like jumping out windows?” he continued, in smug condescension. I gave him a cold stare and walked as dignified as I could back to the palace. I could hear his snorts of laughter all the way to the door.
“Good morning!” he said, in his nasally voice.
“Lyn, why DO you like jumping out windows?” he continued, in smug condescension. I gave him a cold stare and walked as dignified as I could back to the palace. I could hear his snorts of laughter all the way to the door.
I wish I could send him away from the palace, into exile or something, I thought angrily. A dirty job way out in the country, like… ah! Feeding the pigs. How appropriate. I giggled, and then sighed. But how could father, the king, not see what he was doing to me? The question answered itself. He was too busy with Reynold. Teaching him sword fighting, how to rule well, and all sorts of other things. I sighed, and tried to distract my mind from this thought, that continually rubbed at my heart.
At the great oak doors of the castle, I changed my direction, and, walking past them, made my way through the quiet rose gardens to the back of the castle. Long before I reached my destination, I could hear the chirps, trills, cheeps, and calls of the palace aviary. I strolled through, trying to forget the damp cloth sticking to my legs. I walked past large cages of canaries, finches, parakeets and budgies. Though I loved all the birds, my favorite was further on. Past the exotic toucan and ibis, peacock and pheasant. Finally I arrived at my favorite cage. The nightingale.
Though it was plain compared to the bright parakeets, its song outshone them all. I looked around for someplace to sit. The only convenient spot proved to be a damp tree stump. I looked at my skirts and laughed. A damp seat could hardly worsen their state. I sat down and listened dreamily to the sweet song, soon forgetting all about my undignified fall from the window.
After perhaps half an hour, I glanced up at the sky through a lattice of birch leaves. It was near midday, and soon lunch would be served. I got up, reluctantly. As I reached the top of the hill leading down to the castle, I spotted a black carriage coming rapidly up the road. I stared uneasily at it. It was the royal doctor’s carriage. I sighed, as the dark cloud of remembrance weighed down my high spirits. Father was ill. The carriage pulled up to the great oak doors and the doctor climbed out quickly. A skinny boy of 11 or 12, bent under the weight of a heavy medical bag, stumbled along behind the doctor. I waited until they disappeared behind the great oak doors, and then paced back to the castle, the unpleasant thought of father’s illness burning cold on my heart.
As I reached the palace doors, I peered in quietly, making sure the coast was clear. It would never do to be found in this state. No one but the foot men were to be seen, and they were facing the other way. I took the chance and ran for the stairs. Luck must have been looking the other way, for my wet skirts hit against my legs, and made resounding slaps that echoed through the entrance hall. The footmen inevitably heard. With loud shouts of “Hey!” and “Catch that ragamuffin!” they chased me up the stairs. I didn’t dare stop, for I knew, though they would let me go, they would also tell tales of the “dirty princess” for days, perhaps months, and laugh heartily over them. Also, Lady Priscilla, my governess would scold me long and hard.
If I could just make it to my room before they caught up… My breath was coming in pants as I reached the top of the tall grand staircase. Just around the corner, then I would be safe. I flew around the corner and yanked open my door. I pulled my self inside and shut the door as quickly yet quietly as I could. Sinking down on the floor, I sighed with relief. The pounding footsteps thundered past my door, and muffled shouts quickly moved away, and up the hall. My breaths were coming more regularly and I stood up. If I could change my dress quickly, no need know of this! I pulled open my pine wood closet. I glanced through my huge selection of dresses. The door to my room opened. I groaned. Looking around, I expected to see my governess staring disapprovingly at my skirts. Instead, a short, slim girl, of about 8, stood in the doorway.
“Maryanne!” I breathed a sigh of relief.
“Yes’m. Did you want someone else?” Her thin face looked inquiringly at me.
“Oh, no! I just didn’t want my governess.” An understanding smile lit her face.
“Ohhhh. I see. I saw her finishing her letter downstairs. If you change quick, she won’t have to ask questions about the dress!”
“You won’t tell?” I asked, just in case. She looked hurt.
“I wouldn’t never.”
“of course not,” I reassured her. She looked through my closet of dresses, fingering them gently.
“How about this one?” she asked, touching a light pink dress, literally overflowing with satin rosettes. Frills. I wrinkled my nose.
“Why does Lady Priscilla always insist on such elaborate clothes? I think frills look childish.”
“Because…” Maryanne started.
“…I know what is fashionable for royalty!” I mimicked her condescending voice. Maryanne stifled a giggle as she continued to flip through the dresses. I couldn’t stop a grin. It was so inevitable. Lady Priscilla’s answer for almost anything began
“Because I know…”
“Because I know…”
“She really does know what is fashionable,” said Maryanne peaceably.
“I suppose,” I admitted grudgingly. “But they’re MY clothes!”
“If I could wear clothes like this…” Maryanne whispered to herself. I pretended not to hear. She would be embarrassed if she knew I heard. I wished I could give her all the dresses and take hers. They looked so comfy. I dug to the back of the closet and pulled out a soft green dress. It still had frills, but not as many as some of the others. Maryanne unbuttoned it and slipped it over my head. The frills rubbed my neck and arms, but it was the most comfortable one in the wardrobe. I looked at Maryanne’s worn dress. Lucky! I thought, as she buttoned up the back.
She whisked the splinter and grass covered dress out of sight not a moment too soon. My governess swept into the room, trailing a strong, sickly smell of sweet pea perfume.
“What is that awful smell?” she asked, wrinkling her long nose. I froze, unsure of what to answer. At that very second, the bell rang for the midday meal.
“I will have a maid come in and clean the room, after lunch.” Lady Priscilla said, in condescending tones, as she glided out of the room. I smiled at Maryanne, and she grinned cautiously. As I walked out of the room, she whispered in my ear
“I’ll clean the dress before then!” she said, turning back for the offending outfit, sending out signals to it’s hiding place under the bed.
My heart dropped again when I reached the dining table. Father’s seat at the head of the long dining table was still empty. During the meal, I sat next to Lady Priscilla. She was having a whispered conversation with the lady next to her. Though manners should have prevented me from listening, I heard their topic before I could help it, and then, I could not stop listening. I caught but a few words, though that was quite enough.
“…they say he is very ill…”
“…possibly a deadly illness…”
“…weaker by the day…”
“Yes… that’s what they say…” The roast pheasant no longer seemed appetizing, and I could barely choke it down. Father wasn’t that old was he? He would be strong enough to pull through… he had to. A tiny voice in my head nagged at me.
“what if he doesn’t survive? Who would be the next ruler of Yuta?” I pushed the voice away. I was too young… so was my twin brother. Father couldn’t leave us to rule. It wouldn’t be… right.
“Who would rule?” came the voice again. I didn’t want to. My brother did. That was simple enough.
“But would Reynold be a good ruler?” pestered the voice.
“That’s not my problem!” I answered it angrily.
“It might be…” the voice trailed off as Lady Priscilla offered me a platter of figs. The rest of the meal might have been sand, for I ate like a machine, moving fork to mouth like clockwork. My thoughts left me uncomfortable, cold worry fluttering around my insides like a flock of tiny birds.
After the meal was over, I walked to my room. I trudged up the stairs my eyes turned down to the red carpet. I noticed a few faint patches of mud, still there even after a maid had scrubbed. I wondered if Maryanne had been able to clean the dress unnoticed.
“YOUR HIGHNESS!” came shocked tones from below me. I heaved a sigh, and turned around to face my governess.
“Yes, Lady Priscilla?”
“I thought you had learned to walk in a dignified manner.” She scolded me, as she strode as quickly as she could up the stairs.
“You MUST remember that you are royalty. I know what is right for royalty. Carry your head and body like so,” She demonstrated in exasperation. I bit my lip. Couldn’t she leave me alone for just a little? I thought, in irritation. At that moment, a manservant came to the top of the stairs.
“Your Highness,” he said in a deep voice.
“The King is preparing to make a proclamation.”
“About what?” I gasped, fear pulsing through my body. The deep voice bounced off the walls.
“He wishes to announce who shall be the next heir to the throne”.
