TFL ch. 17

I pace the bedroom floor, sympathizing with the caged lions of Caleet's annual fairs. Such a small space, even though comfortable, can easily become a dungeon of the soul. The castle has been in mourning for just over a week and its gloomy solemness is grating my patience to fragments. The vastness of the rooms has grown into a claustrophobic confinement.

"Will you STOP?" Gwen snaps. Turning from her desk, she glares at me. My constant need for motion has been her thorn in the flesh this afternoon. "Honestly, you are worse than Lord Braggsbury!" With an exasperated sigh, she returns to her letters.

I drop onto her bed, leaning against her bedpost. Lord Braggsbury... Madame Carlisle often told us his legend in reprimanding us, or rather me, for impatience. "Remember, Lord Braggsbury, girls! When he was twenty, he was so in love with a young maiden whose astounding beauty won his heart immediately. Her wise father was adamant, completely against the marriage- his young daughter was not to marry so quickly. Braggsbury was so desperately in love that he asked a sprite to aid him in marrying the young girl. So the sprite put a spell on the father to make him agree and created a dress and flowers for the maiden. But, impatient Braggsbury, fool that he was, never asked the price of the sprite's service. The two were wed that night and enjoyed one week of wedded happiness. On the seventh day, there was a knock on the door. The sprite had come for her ransom, ten thousand talents weight of magical greyton aspen leaves. Braggsbury staggered back. Ten thousand talents! There was not ten talents weight of greyton aspen leaves in all of Aspenvale- let alone ten thousand! He stammered and begged but to no avail- the sprite was to be repaid.

"Wagging her beautiful head, the sprite said,
'Impatient to have the beauty, but not quick to ask the price,
Let his punishment be to live among the mice.'

"With horror, the maiden watched her husband transform before her eyes into a rat. And if you are impatient, you will turn out like that." Madame Carlisle would always conclude, with a pointed look at me and a huff as she walked. I chuckle at the ridiculousness of it. With my impatience, I heard the story so many times, I could say it in Latin.

"Would you stop that infernal drumming!" Gwen snaps again.

I stand up. "I'm going to survey the perimeter."

"Don't you go anywhere, Amelia Rachelle! We have just a little while before supper and I won't have you leaving me alone, again!" Her usually laughing blue eyes are annoyed. Our opposite characters usually make us perfectly compatible but on certain days, I believe she has a definite wish to strangle me.

I mutter, "Don't call me Rachelle," and rummage through my things for the journal Eric and Gwen gave me on my twelfth birthday. I pick it up with a smile. Its brown leather is worn with age and its pages full of memories. I flip through its pages, noting hilarious adventure after adventure. A worn slip of paper catches my eye. It transports me back to the streets of Caleet. The scene plays out in my mind- slamming into Eric, dropping the wallet, the paper falling out. This little slip of paper is the only memoir of that life-changing day. Without that day, I would not be here. Jack would not be Sir Williams's squire. He and I would be the scum of society rather than the guardians of the elite. Life would be so different and to me, that slip of paper was key.

I study it once again. The rotund man that owned the wallet had put that slip of paper in there for a reason. What that reason was I had no viable idea. "Wesson- sixth, Jelia Court. Stair 3 Mat." was what I could discern from the scribblings on it. Wesson... A name? A rather rare one for Aspenvale...

"Lee, it's time to go." I fumble dropping the journal. Picking it up, I place the paper behind the sash of my dress. Perhaps the food might help me figure out this puzzle.

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Princess Selina is at the head of the table, Eric beside her. The queen had not stirred from her room since the day of the funeral and apparently is not coming tonight either. Selina's still stunning beauty is dampened by the tired and depressed look in her eyes. She motions for Eric to be seated and gazes impersonally at the long row of tables filled with all those present in the court. Haltingly, she speaks, "Noblemen and noblewomen of Aspenvale and Rhodenheim, I ask your pardon for my mother's reluctance to stir- from her room. As many of you knew the close relationship between the king and the queen, I am quite dependent upon your mercies- I- I am not near the eloquent speaker that my mother is, but she has ask me to announce two things."

Curious whispers go up as she pauses and many noblemen lean in, fearing to miss the queen's announcements. Selina raises her hand slightly, the same gesture her father had used to silence the crowd. Silence falls suddenly on the room, the response so obedient, that it was difficult to believe Selina was not already queen herself.

She continues, "First, the wedding between his highness, Prince Eric and me, will be postponed for two months to allow for a suitable mourning period before the preparations begin." At this, many people nod in agreement, but not a word is spoken. Her Highness has yet one more thing to say.

"Secondly-" She cuts off with a sigh. "Secondly, her majesty, Queen Elise Marie Antonique Dupree-" Another long pause. The nobles shuffle impatiently, their eyes speculating why Princess Selina lingers in telling them. "Wishes to abdicate the throne-"

Shouts of disbelief and astonishment emanate from most of the Rhodenian nobles. The room is overturned with confusion as arguments erupt as to who will ascend to the throne until Selina's wedding. Pandemonium threatens to ensue if they are not quieted.

"Silence!" She commands, her voice even more authoritative than previously. Again, the room stills. "Sir Bentley as head of the Consul will assume the kingly duties until such a time as the law permits me to rule."

This time the hall remains quiet, not wishing to anger their grieving princess. She nods to the servers and the usual banquet is brought in dish by dish. I eat sparingly, my body too restless to eat much. The slip of paper, the queen's abdication, the wedding's postponement- too many things are swirling in my head to be the puppet of etiquette. I drum on the table, evoking another ungracious glare. Patience may be a virtue, but it certainly was not one of mine.

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Hello, my dear partners in crime!! Life has been swell. My knees are sore from volleyball and brain is sore from tests. Buuuut... Writing is still my life.

Dedicated to EleanorDelia. One of my kindred spirits on here! I'm a Huge Anne of Green Gables fan and I've found quite a few kindred spirits!! Please comment if you're a fan of the movies or the books! I love knowing I'm not the only Anne-ish girl!

Now for the question of the chappie.

Which fairytale character do you feel you relate to?

I have to say that I've always felt I was Belle from Beauty and the Beast. Not that I'm pretty, just I'm bookish and prefer being with my family than being with friends and society.

Well, hope you enjoyed!!