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Bewitched

Page 17

by Kaila Patterson


  Cynthia laughed aloud, wiping her eyes. Her tears were no longer upset, sticky tears. They were warm, fuzzy-feeling tears.

  “Mariah, you cannot imagine how much I will miss you.” Cynthia laughed, “If I leave.”.

  “And I you,” Mariah smiled, “Wherever will I be without you?”.

  The younger girl gave a comforting smile, reaching across the grass and grabbing Mariah’s hand, squeezing it.

  “You will be wonderful, as you are.” Cynthia smiled. “And I will return, even if I must drag Gabriel across the sea.”.

  Mariah gave a reassuring smile, but Eliza knew forced smiles when she saw them. Inside, she could sense the woman’s hurt.

  Eliza saw the tower in the distance. The height and rough structure still sent a chill down her spine, in the worst of ways.

  ‘Lucie is in there,’ She thought, ‘Hopefully.’.

  No one said anything for a moment, and the young girl pulled her hand from Mariah’s. Seeing the tension, Eliza spoke.

  “That tower, what was it built for?” She asked, nodding her head to the building. “Is it not strange to have a tower built for prisoners beside the castle?”.

  Mariah and Cynthia turned to one another, narrowing their eyes toward her. Cynthia scoffed.

  “You don’t know why that tower was built?” Cynthia asked. Eliza shrugged, chewing the inside of her cheek. Again, both maidens stared like she was a puzzle.

  “Well, are you sure you want to know?” Mariah whispered, giving Cynthia a warning look.

  The girl crawled onto her knees. She seemed in storyteller-mode, acting with her hands.

  “It was built because of—” Cynthia was cut off by Mariah, as she leant into Eliza and turned her voice to a whisper. “Princess Rue.”.

  Eliza nodded for Cynthia to continue. She had never heard the name, Rue, before. Mariah cleared her throat, eyeing Eliza then Cynthia.

  “Her proper title was Princess Ruelle.” Mariah explained.

  Cynthia nodded along, making faces and gestures at Eliza with a smirk.

  “Then, she was Richard’s sister?” Eliza asked, piecing the story together. The two maidens laughed, as Cynthia sat cross-legged on the ground.

  “King Richard, and yes.” Mariah corrected. “She was the first child of King Rupert and Queen Katheryn, and older sister to our king.”.

  Eliza nodded, staring at the tower. She had assumed The King was an only child, never thinking that he had siblings.

  Cynthia smirked, again raising her hands to act out her storytelling.

  “Princess Rue was good, but she and King Rupert fought over the good of the people.” Cynthia explained, “She hated his views and treating of his people, so she tried to escape from the royals at a youthful age.”.

  Eliza smiled, listening intently. She did not blame this princess for trying to escape the royals, and their toxicity.

  “Alas, Rue only got to the seashore before she was taken back to the kingdom.” Cynthia said dramatically, “When she arrived, her father ordered for that tower to be built, for her to be imprisoned inside.”.

  Mariah gazed off at the tower, her eyes drifting from it to the woods, as though she could still see the princess running.

  “So, the tower is used as a temporary dungeon for prisoners The King does not know what to do with?” Eliza asked.

  The young girl nodded, taking a well-needed breath. All three sets of eyes were on the tower, and the story came to life.

  “Eventually, she was allowed out, and all was well. Until her mother and father died a tragic death while on a trip, killed by enemy soldiers.” Cynthia said.

  Eliza thought back on when she saw The King at his mother and father’s grave, and how he spoke to them.

  “The death caused rows between the two royal siblings, and after the coronation of King Richard, Princess Rue ran a second time!” Cynthia shrieked, raising her voice to highs and lows. “She was never found.”.

  Eliza felt a strange feeling, as her eyes widened in disbelief. Cynthia nodded, shrugging in a humble manner.

  “Never found?” Eliza asked, “She disappeared? That’s it?”.

  “That’s it.” Cynthia giggled, “Poof! She was gone!”.

  Eliza was stricken with disbelief. It was mind-boggling how, after many years, the princess remained unfound.

  Princess Ruelle could be on the other side of the world. It was hard to believe that someone could disappear, never to be seen again.

  Then again, this princess was proof that it could be done. That sparked a new idea into Eliza’s mind, after long thinking that she would never get away.

  It had been done, and it had worked.

  •

  After the day, Eliza collapsed onto her bed that night. Pulling off her wretched wig and gown, then pulling on her nightgown, her eyes were crossing over.

  Her arm sluggishly sunk into her satchel, pulling out the diary. The words were blurred, and her eyes felt like heavy weights, but she had to read it.

  Slowly pushing herself up, she raised the journal to the window to extract a little moonlight, Eliza began to read what words she could see.

  Dear Elizabeth,

  I cannot explain. Yet, be wary that I know they are suspecting me. They are coming, and now your father knows.

  If anything happens, I love you. You are so small right now, and it pains me that any infant would be stolen from their mother.

  I love you, now, then, and always. You have your father, and he will take care of you, I know.

  They call me witch, they say I am practicing witchcraft, they target him too.

  Please do not be angry at anyone for what they do to me, if they do anything. I want you to live as wonderful a life as you can, as you deserve to.

  It is too late for me, but you still have a life to live, and I hope in your time, you never have to feel how I do, suffer how I do.

  I love you,

  A.S

  Eliza had fallen asleep, with the diary lying flat on her face. Sticky tears ran down her cheeks, as her light snores filled the room.

  She had read each word, tracing them delicately with her finger.

  ‘I love you.’.

  She read each word, except those last three. She had fallen asleep before reading those. Still, even in her dream, she had not forgotten them. She never would.

  14

  The Agreement

  Eliza sat silent on the chair. Cynthia and Mariah sat on either side of her. No one said a word.

  Queen Grace paced back and forth, in a moment of stress and hopelessly muttering under her breath. The Queen’s Chamber was silent, except for the hushed breaths of all three maidens.

  “There was something different this morning, he was different,” Queen Grace muttered. “I know he’s plotting something, but what?”.

  “Do not fret, Your Majesty,” Mariah hushed, “The King is quite stressed with the rumours, perhaps if you spoke to him?”.

  “Rumours?”.

  “Yes, Your Highness.”.

  Queen Grace marched over, a fear glistening in her eyes. Eliza could swear she never saw the woman so distressed. With that, Cynthia had cried twice in the past hour.

  By dusk, Cynthia would be gone with her fiancé. That left only Eliza, or the real Lucie, and Mariah.

  The Queen had not acknowledged Cynthia’s state, or that her belongings were stacked in trunks at the end of the corridor.

  She had not noticed at all.

  “I heard of no rumours, while abroad.” Grace sighed, looming over Mariah. “What trouble has he stirred now?”.

  “Well,” Mariah paused, “There is speculation surrounding the witch and her trial, have you not heard?”.

  Queen Grace winced at the mention, avoiding Eliza’s intent eyes. The woman stared out toward the tower.

  “Spinner?” Grace sighed, “Yes, I’m afraid I have.”.

  “The people are curious why The King holds her in the tower,” Mariah continued, glancing to Eliza and Cynthia. “D
oes he not plan to have her executed?”.

  “I cannot be sure,” Queen Grace replied. “He won’t speak to me, certainly not about that. I feel that I’m useless to him, that being The King’s wife is only a title now.”.

  Mariah’s face crumbled, staring towards the floor. Cynthia’s head sat on her hand, as she stared into oblivion.

  It was a tense day. Cynthia’s departing brought a saddening atmosphere, but that worsened when The Queen stormed in, ranting about The King’s plan.

  “He made arrangements of preparing a carriage, but where would he be going?” Queen Grace asked the air.

  Eliza chose not to answer, skimming her eyes across the floor. Queen Grace had been avoiding her all morning, she could tell.

  “That reminds me,” Queen Grace whispered, a sharp anger in her tone. “Do you know what secrets he hides, Lady Benson?”.

  “No.” Eliza answered. Purposely, she kept her eyes low.

  Grace did not look convinced. She rolled her eyes, her blue gown flourishing as she walked toward her.

  The crown on her faint hair shimmered in the light.

  “Do not lie to me.” The Queen scowled, leaning over her. In that moment, she resembled Lady Theresa, but younger. “You know his plans, don’t you?”.

  “If I did, you would too.” Eliza announced, a slight warning in her tone. “He interrogated me about the witch, no more, no less.”.

  That was not the truth, but it was not a lie either. Silence returned to the room. Queen Grace could not see it, but Eliza saw a small smirk on Mariah’s face.

  “Perhaps, The King wants to surprise you?” Cynthia asked. The two maidens turned to her, as she spoke for the first time all morning. “It could be a good thing, that he is so distant.”.

  Queen Grace shook her head. She continued pacing back and forth, clutching her chin.

  “I am aging, soon, I will not be able to give him an heir; a son.” Queen Grace cried, burying her face into her hands, “That is why he is distant, he has given up on me.”.

  No one answered that. Staying silent was easier than agreeing and being sent to the stake.

  Eliza never cared for the monarchy, but she knew that all former rulers had at least one son.

  King Richard and Queen Grace did not have children. Therefore, there would be no biological heir, male or female.

  “There must be an eligible heir somewhere.” Cynthia said, “A long-lost relative, perhaps?”.

  Queen Grace’s eyes watered as she blinked. It would be disgraced if she gave The King no heirs at all. The people would stir rumours, and the royals would suffer great embarrassment.

  “There is one, but…” The Queen’s voice trailed off, staring into space. “No, it is impossible.”.

  All three maidens glanced at each other. Then, it clicked.

  ‘Princess Ruelle.’ She thought, ‘If she ever returned.’.

  If the princess returned, she could claim the throne, but only if King Richard were dead. She would be royal-blood, and the rightful heir.

  “An heir will come, but that is not the problem at hand.” Mariah said. “What can we do to help, Your Majesty?”.

  The Queen shrugged lightly. The woman was fighting back tears, Eliza could see. In a way, the unmarried girl understood.

  Eliza dusted down her blue-gold dress, the silk running gently through her fingers. The wig still sat neatly on her head, matched with the maiden’s headband.

  “No, Mariah.” Queen Grace mumbled, “I need to sit down, that is all.”

  In comparison to the maidens, The Queen was glamorous. Her gown was patterned with flowers and richness radiated from her. Even her composed walk outdone the maidens.

  To Eliza, it was clear what had drawn The King to her at the beginning. She was beautiful, even with age.

  Queen Grace plopped herself onto the plumped pillows, gazing off into the fireplace. She pressed her hand to her head, and strands of undone hair fell messily into her face.

  Eliza sat with her whole-body tense. No one dared move or speak as The Queen thought. There was an uncertainty in the air, and it was unclear whether Grace would cry or scream.

  “Your Majesty, I need to inform you that—” Cynthia took a deep breath, “That I am leaving, tonight.”.

  Queen Grace grumbled in response. Cynthia’s eyes started to water, and tears trickled down her face. The girl’s pinkish face reflected in the firelight, puffed and sticky.

  ‘That is the third time she has cried,’ Eliza thought, ‘She’s distraught.’.

  Mariah lent her hand to Cynthia’s. Her other reached to the girl’s face, brushing her tears away.

  Queen Grace’s eyes focused on the fireplace, ignoring all three ladies. The Queen was distracted, but Cynthia was hurting.

  “Did you speak to Gabriel?” Mariah whispered, swooping Cynthia’s hair from her face. The young girl shook her head.

  Mariah continued gently stroking Cynthia’s tears away, whispering words of comfort. Eliza stared awkwardly to the floor.

  Sounds of marching boots echoed from the hall. The three maidens and Queen flinched at once, as repeated banging came from outside.

  “What is happening?” Cynthia whimpered, shifting her seat from the door. The footsteps grew louder, and Queen Grace’s eyes grew wide.

  The doors flung open, rebounding across the floor. Two stern men stormed in, wearing gold-lined jackets. The tallest of the men stepped forward.

  “Matthew.” The Queen whispered, standing from her chair. She swept across the room, gripping hold of the man’s hand.

  Matthew was a cold-faced, raven-haired man. He had dark skin, buckled boots, and appeared to be a well-dressed attendant.

  “Lady Grace,” The man greeted. “His Majesty ordered that you come with us, and that your ladies pack any valuables you independently own.”.

  The Queen’s brow furrowed. Eliza knew that there was something not right and noticed the untrustworthy feeling the man gave.

  “And why should I do that?” The Queen asked, folding her arms.

  Matthew clicked his tongue, turning away. It was clear the man was pressured.

  “The King has been granted permission for a divorce.” Matthew announced, avoiding The Queen’s look. “You forfeit the title, Queen, and no longer hold authority.”.

  Queen Grace’s eyes widened, as she stood with a lost look. She took a long breath.

  His words rang in Eliza’s ears, repeating themselves. The King and Queen were to be divorced; she never even thought of that, it never happened.

  “D-Divorce?” The Queen winced. Matthew stood beside her, his face in a stricken frown. Mariah marched toward them. A spare guard gripped her arm. Scowling, she sat back down.

  “I will speak to Richard,” Grace announced. “This cannot be right; I will prove it.”.

  “I cannot allow you to leave,” Matthew replied. “I am ordered to accompany you while you pack, and escort you to your carriage when you are prepared.”.

  Eliza sat shocked, watching the scene continue. An arm nudged her, as she turned to Mariah.

  “Do something, anything,” Mariah whispered, pleading with her voice. “Please, we could lose our positions over this. Make it stop.”.

  Sighing, Eliza stared at her. Mariah begged with her eyes, digging her nails into Eliza’s arm. She stared from corner-to-corner of the room, unable to think of a solution.

  “I don’t know how to stop this,” Eliza whimpered, meeting the maiden’s fearful eyes. “I’m sorry.”.

  “You do know, Lucie.” Mariah pleaded, “I saw what you did for Cynthia, how you thought on your feet to help her. I do not care how horrific or extreme it is, just do something.”.

  Eliza nodded, scanning the room. Two guards, an ex-Queen, three maidens. Her eyes drifted to Cynthia, and something clicked.

  “Out of my way, Matthew” Grace demanded, but the man stood balanced. “I might not hold a Queen’s authority, but I am still his wife, for now.”.

  “My command was to
remain by your side, and I shall see The King’s order through.” Matthew refused.

  Eliza slowly shuffled over to Cynthia. The girl sat chewing on her nail, dazed and distracted.

  “Will you do something for me?” Eliza whispered. Cynthia turned to face her, hesitantly nodding.

  Eliza knew if her plan worked, she could kill two birds with one stone. Taking a breath, she prepared for the absurd proposal she would make.

  “Faint.” Eliza murmured. Cynthia’s face widened. If they were not quick, they were done for. No in-between.

  “What?” Cynthia whimpered, her mouth opening wide. “You want me to faint?”.

  “Pretend to faint, or die, your choice. Fall to the floor and play dead.” Eliza explained. “It will distract the guards, trust me.”.

  Cynthia glanced over at Mariah, who discreetly winked. The three maidens shared a look, calculating their plan.

  “B-But…” Cynthia cut short.

  Lady Grace was shoving her finger into the man’s chest, refusing to comply. By the second, the ex-Queen’s rage burned, and time ran out.

  “If you do, The Queen can escape,” Eliza said. “And, if you faint and need a doctor, how could they allow you to leave tonight?”.

 

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