Chapter5: Princess or Prisoner?

Bexley

“My father died in an accident when I was quite young,” I begin. “Mother says it happened very quickly. He was only twenty-three.”

“I’m sorry for your loss. Do you know what happened?”

Again, I shake my head. “No. Mother doesn’t like to talk about it. I only know it happened deep in the woods.”

“Interesting.” He strokes his chin leaving me to ponder what’s so interesting about that. “We are beginning to climb the hill to the castle now. Would you like for me to open the curtain so you can see the forest?’

“Yes! I’d love that.” My enthusiasm would be embarrassing if I didn’t feel so comfortable with him.

Ellison laughs and pulls the curtain back on both side of the carriage. I oscillate between each of them, doing my best to peer through the darkness into the trees. The road is narrow enough that tree branches occasionally scrape the top. We roll over some deep ruts that jar me out of my seat, and one of them makes me bump my nose on the window.

“Are you all right?” he asks. “I’m so sorry.”

“I’m fine.” I rub it and continue to look out. I see a large bird in the top of the tree and several small creatures skitter by. Mother always marvels at how good I am at finding animals, but sometimes I think they find me.

“The road needs repair,” Ellison mutters. I spare a glance at him, but then my focus is out the window again. “We could fix it, but then, people might be inspired to use it.”

Again, I glance over my shoulder and see him dragging a hand down his face. He meets my eyes and realizes he’s said too much.

“I won’t remember any of this tomorrow,” I remind him, and he looks relieved. I turn my head back to the window, but then I have to ask myself what the point is. Nothing I see will stick with me.

“It makes you happy now,” he says, as if he’s reading my mind.

He’s not wrong, so I go back to looking for animals. We have just leveled off when we pass through a large gate. Cast iron and marble, it’s impressive, but what’s even more breathtaking is the sight of several pairs of eyes gleaming through the dark forest on the other side of the gate. “Are those wolves?”

He scoots toward me and looks out at the eyes. “Possibly.” He seems nonchalant. “A lot of animals live in the woods around the castle—on both sides of the fence. I don’t recommend going out there.”

Again, I look into his eyes and see that this is a warning. I nod. I can’t imagine why I ever would.

Even after we pass through the gate, it takes a few minutes for the carriage to begin to slow down. We are in a clearing now, and the magnificent yard comes into view first. Despite the darkness, I can see the perfectly manicured grass. It appears to be a deep green with every blade in place. Then, the hedges come into view, and they are also immaculate.

“You should see the garden in the back of the castle. There’s a labyrinth, several fountains, and all kinds of beautiful flowers, especially roses. The queen loves—loved—roses.” He clears his throat, and I can’t tell if it’s sorrow at having mentioned the late queen that makes him do so or something else.

“I’d love to see that,” I tell him as we pull up in front of a huge building made of the same white marble that the gate supports were made from.

I can’t see much of it from here. We’re at such an odd angle, but as the footman opens the door, I step out and look up. It’s massive—tall and imposing—with turrets and ledges. All of it seems to be sculpted out of one continuous piece of white marble.

Ellison steps out next to me. “It’s intimidating, but don’t worry. Almost everyone inside is quite lovely and kind.”

I arch an eyebrow. “Almost everyone?”

He shrugs one shoulder and offers his arm. I take it. “Those who are not won’t have much to do with you anyway, I’m sure.”

I grip his arm tighter. We walk inside, and the interior is even more breathtaking than the outside. Everywhere I look, expensive pieces of art fill the walls. The floor is polished white marble that gleams beneath crystal chandeliers. I’m fully aware that my continuous gasp is probably quite annoying, yet I can’t help myself. We glide across the floor about halfway toward a grand stairwell when an older gentleman wearing a butler’s uniform and a woman who instantly reminds me of Mrs. Jones appear in front of us.

“Miss Kessler—” Ellison begins.

“Oh, it’s Bexley,” I say, realizing I never told him to call me by my first name the way that he had asked me to.

“Bexley.” He grins, and I feel myself melt just a little on the inside. He’s so charming! “This is Anna. She’ll be taking care of you during your stay. She’s our head housekeeper and the kindest soul you’ll ever meet.”

Anna gives me a grandmotherly smile and a nod, and I believe every word he’s said.

“And this is David, our head butler. While he’s not quite as sweet as Anna, if you need anything at all, you can ring for him, and he’ll be there to help you. Anna will show you to your room so you can freshen up, and then I’ll take you in to introduce you to the king before supper.”

My eyes widen slightly at the notion of meeting the king, but I nod. He pats my arm, and then he’s gone.

“Hello, dear.” Anna’s voice is as sweet as her smile. “This way, dear.”

I look around for my bag. David says, “The footman has delivered your luggage to your room.” His smile is also inviting. I nod a thank you and then follow along as Anna leads me up the stairs.

We seem to climb forever, but it doesn’t even make her catch her breath. By the time we get to whatever floor my room is on, I feel like my lungs are on fire. “This way.” She turns a corner, and I only have a moment to appreciate the art on the walls and the view out the window before she comes to a stop in front of a pair of ornate doors.

When she opens them, it reveals the most beautiful bedroom I’ve ever seen. I gasp and hesitate on the threshold, not sure if I should follow her inside of not.

The large four poster bed is full of carvings from the headboard to the footboard. It’s painted white to help lighten the room, as is the rest of the furniture. I see the faces of forest animals in the wood, as well as the artwork that hangs over the large fireplace where a fire blazes and across the other walls. The light blue wallpaper has a feminine pattern in cream. In the center of the ceiling hangs another crystal chandelier, but this one is far more feminine than others I’ve seen throughout the castle.

This looks like a bedroom fit for a princess, so I can’t see myself staying here, not even for one night.

“Well come in, darling,” Anna coaxes. “This is where you’ll be staying. You’ll find a wardrobe full of gowns over there.” She gestures across the room. “I’m sure you’ll find something to your liking for super.”

I stare at her for a moment wondering how they know my measurements. Do they just keep a variety of sizes on hand for all the women who stay here?

When I think of the other girls who have likely stayed in this same room, some of the specialness I’d been feeling melts away. It’s silly. Of course, they didn’t prepare all of this for me. Why would they? Even if the animal touches do seem fitting. Maybe the entire castle is just decorated that way and it’s a coincidence.

“Here are the call boxes,” she says, walking over to the wall near the bed. “You just press this button and speak into the tube, and one of the staff members will hear you and send me up. This one is for David.” She moves her hand slightly to the left. “Of course, in the unlikely event no one responds, there’s always the bell.” She doesn’t pull the chord but shows me the bell, and I nod.

“Thank you for all of your kindness.”

“Of course!” She comes to me and pats my arm. “Your suitcase is just over there.” She points to the armoire, and I see it nestled in the corner. “Let me know if you need anything. Supper is at nine.”

That seems awfully late to me, but I only nod. Thankfully, I had a bit of Mother’s stew before we left.

Once Anna departs, I take a moment to enjoy the room. The bed is super comfortable. All the pillows are squishy, and the mattress is heavenly. The blankets are soft and inviting.

I don’t stay lying down too long, though. I rush to the window and look out at the forest. I can see the trees in the distance, but it’s too far to make out much. I bet if I stand there long enough, eyes will appear.

There’s no time for that right now, though. I throw open the armoire and peer inside. A thousand dresses in every shade imaginable greet me, making me gasp in shock and wonder. I pull out one skirt after another to look at them and finally settle on a light blue gown the color of the bedroom walls. I figure the king must like blue since his carriage is this color as well as this room, not that he’s ever spent much time in here.

A shudder goes down my spine. Or has he?

I look at the bed and try to remember what Ellison said to Garth. There will be no deflowering today. Still, can Ellison know everything?

It will do me no good to worry about it, so I get dressed like I am a princess for the night. It is still my birthday, after all. I manage to get into the gown by myself and sit at the dressing table to fix my hair. All the fancy products lined up there are remarkable, and I want to sample every one of them. By the time it’s five minutes until 9:00, I look like a different person. I’ve used a bit of blush, dark eye shadow, and coral colored lipstick. I smell like strawberries. Standing, I take one last look in the mirror and decide I’m ready to meet the king. I hope Ellison will be there with me because I’m already beginning to think of him as a friend.

His sharp knock on the door is distinguishable, so I’m not surprised when I throw it open and find him standing there looking regal in an even fancier suit. His tie is the same shade of blue as my dress.

“Twinsies!” he says, and I burst out laughing.

“How did you know?”

He shrugs. “I took a guess. Are you ready?” He offers me his arm, and I take it.

“Yes, but I am a little nervous.”

“Don’t be,” he says with a dismissive wave. “Everyone gets so worked up to meet the king, and then it’s really nothing.”

I wonder if that’s because I won’t remember it. Still, I’m not good at making small talk. “I have no idea what to say to him.”

“Honestly, something along the lines of, ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you, Your Highness,’ with a curtsey is probably enough.”

“For an entire dinner?” I ask, almost stopping in my tracks to look at him.

“Oh, he won’t be eating dinner with us. That’ll just be the two of us and a few of his advisors. The king never takes his meals with anyone,” Ellison explains.

Now, I do pause to turn in his direction. “He doesn’t?”

“No. We will stop by his office on the way to the dining room. I’ll introduce you, and then I’ll escort you to dinner. That’ll be the extent of your interaction, at least for tonight.”

My forehead crinkles, but when he starts walking again, I go along. “Is there some sort of time continuum here?” I ask, almost laughing at the absurdity of the question. I don’t believe in magic, but I do believe in science. Is that possible.

“No, why?” He chuckles, and I momentarily feel better.

“Because everyone says it’ll just be one night, but then you made it sound like I might see him again tomorrow,” I reply.

“Well, he’s never kept any of the birthday girls for more than one night,” Ellison says. “But we can’t rule it out.”

I feel my heart sink to my feet. As beautiful as it is here, and as kind as everyone has been, the idea that I might not be reunited with my mother tomorrow has me feeling forlorn.

“Don’t worry. I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Ellison tells me. We head down the stairs in silence and down a maze of hallways until we reach what feels like the back of the castle to me. Here, the white marble seems to dim to something more akin to gray slabs of stone. The lights are dimmer, and the artwork turns more bleak. Image of dark forests and scary looking castles hang on the walls. Busts of dragons and other monsters sit on pillars, and the shadows thicken around us.

We reach an imposing door, and Ellison wraps, still forcing a smile.

It takes a moment before we hear a rumbling, “Enter.”

My breath catches in my throat, and I squeeze Ellison’s arm so tight I might injure a lesser man. We step inside a dark room where only a few candle sconces along the walls give us any sort of illumination. Thick dark curtains cover the windows, and in the far reaches, back in the darkest shadows, I make out the outline of a large desk and a chair, which is facing away from us.

A chill runs up my spine, and it has nothing to do with the garish fireplace adorned with gargoyles being unlit. The man in that chair frightens me, and it’s all I can do to get my feet moving.

“Your Majesty,” Ellison says, his voice unwavering, “may I present Miss Bexley Kessler of Menschen Village.”

I clear my throat, and as the chair swivels slowly around, I squeak out, “It’s an honor to meet you, Your Maj—”

I can’t finish the word. Yellow gold eyes stare back at me from the darkness. A scream lodges in my throat, and I feel compelled to tear myself away from Ellison, to run away, and never come back.