“Are you certain? Everything has to be perfect,” his Britainnian contact was saying.
Doctor Winston must have felt or heard me enter because he turned around and waved me in.
“This is me we’re talking about, Quincy. It will all work out as intended. I have to go now, the Princess just came in and I have to see to her,” Doctor Winston said.
“Ah. Well. Mustn’t keep her waiting. Prince George has been visiting me quite often lately complaining about headaches from the stress his father is putting on him now that he has to find a bride on his own. Your Princess really ran him through with that cancellation,” Quincy said. I’m not sure if he was oblivious to the fact that I could see and hear him or if he was just a jerk.
“Not going to discuss politics with you, Quincy. Besides, you know very well how I feel about all that King’s Test business. Have a good day,” Doctor Winston said.
“Hmph. Night. Goodbye,” Quincy mumbled and disconnected.
Doctor Winston stood up out of his seat and gave me a bow. I nodded acceptance and he sat at his desk chair, gesturing for me to sit across from him.
“Sorry to interrupt your call, Doctor,” I said.
“Oh. It is alright. Quincy is a bit uptight sometimes,” he replied as he waved his hand dismissively.
I laughed. “Well, I would have assured him Prince George would likely have been forced to find his own bride anyway. With how much he has complained about the Council’s decision, I cannot imagine him making it very far in the King’s Test. Father definitely disapproves of his manners.”
Doctor Winston laughed at that. “You are probably right, Princess. What is it that I can do for you on this fine day?”
“As I am sure you know, I had a really long night last night and a long meeting with Father and Countess Elleouise this morning about it. I am having a migraine and am out of my meds for it.”
He stood up and walked out to his lab and I followed him. Shifting around bottles in one of his cupboards, he said, “Yes. Those men certainly seemed to be giving you a time last night on the dance floor.”
I scoffed. “That was nothing compared to the interviews. I hate this process.”
He nodded as if he understood what I was going through, even though he didn’t. No one but Father had any clue. Especially not Doctor Darrel Winston. Being both intelligent and attractive, he had his pick in ladies.
“Here we are,” he said, pulling out a bottle and shaking a few caplets into a smaller container. “I will order you some more, but this should hold you over. You remember how to take them?”
“Yes. Once a day as needed. I thought I was done with these. It has been so long since I have had one.”
“Hmm. Did you have one of your dreams last night?” he asked, leaning against the counter with his feet and arms crossed.
Of course. That’s why I have a migraine.
I nodded. “And when was your last migraine?” he asked.
“After my last dream. And you remember what happened there. It scares me, Doctor. How could I have dreamed the results of the vote? There is no way I could have known the Council would vote against foreigners participating in a King’s Test. It certainly could have gone either way.”
“I have no idea. It is amazing to me how you have these little premonitions. Every time I check your brain, though, everything seems fine. I would not worry too much about it. For now, just accept it and take the caplet when you have a migraine. Would you mind if I took another scan so I can study your brain makeup today?”
“Sure,” I said, even though I knew the results would be normal. We made our way down the hall on the left to his scanning room. He directed me to the center of the room where the large, circular scanner descended from the ceiling. As he pressed a myriad of buttons, I heard clicks, beeps, and buzzes as the equipment took its images.
I had been having premonitions for the last couple years and only Doctor Winston knew about it. I hadn’t even told Ella. I was pretty sure anyone I told would be convinced I was crazy or needed to be sliced open for experimentation. When he was finished, we walked back to his office and sat again. Looking intently at me, he asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”
I shook my head. “Not really, but this one is probably something you should hear. Maybe. I do not know. It was – different than the others.”
“How so?”
“Well, in the past, my dreams have been specific events. Like the Council meeting or my Birthday Ball last year or the boring tea party the Duchess of Birch put on a few months ago. This was vaguer; it was more like a slide show of images.”
“What were the images?”
I squirmed a little in my seat. “Seven coffins. Six were made of wood and one of glass. I do not know how, but I know six of the seven participants of the King’s Test were in the wooden ones.” I paused and bit my lip.
“Who was in the seventh?”
“Me.”
His eyes widened. “Oh. Did you see anything else?”
“Count Peter with very blue eyes. Countess Elleouise about twenty years older in twenty-first century clothing. Two children. A boy and a girl. A park bench. Then bright white. After that, I woke up drenched in sweat with a migraine again.”
“Interesting.”
“The possibilities of the meanings frighten me.”
His gaze went past me to the door behind me as he thought. “Well, I have not gotten very far in my psychiatric doctorate yet. Even if I had, there is nothing written about people who have premonitions beyond legends, fairytales, and religion. I will continue looking into it and let you know if I find anything.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” I said as I stood.
Bowing, he replied, “Anything for you, Princess.”
I turned and went back to the palace. Building a mental wall around the dream so I could move on.
Chapter 10
Instead of building the walls I intended on building, I made my way to the library to do my own research on premonitions. The Royal Arborian Library was fascinating to me. So many things were digital nowadays, but we had one of the largest collections of physical books in the world. Because it was one of my favorite places, it didn't take me long to find and pick up a book of fairytales and one on premonitions in religion.
As I sat down at a table, Ella came in, chose a book about Southland and plopped down on a sofa on the other side of the room. First, I scanned through the book of fairytales. Having read it before, it didn't take me long to flip through the whole thing. A common thread throughout it was that the visions were received through magic of one sort or another.
Next, I flipped through the book on religion. Unsurprisingly, the common thread there was that the visions were given through one god or another. I already knew there were stories within my own religion about prophets and such, so I don't know why I expected anything different there.
I walked over to the Computer Desk and did a quick search for scientific reasons for premonitions. There were a lot of theories and hypotheses, but nothing solid. Doctor Winston had claimed there was so scientific data on the subject and this only confirmed his claim.
Sighing, I said, "Come on, Ella. Let's go."
She jumped up, excited. "I'm glad you're finally ready to leave!" I shook my head as we left, she had only been there for around a half hour.
The rest of the day passed by rather uneventfully. Father and Mother were meeting with the Petrichoria Delegate and I wasn’t expecting Peter and Stephan until the next day. Ella and I spent the afternoon walking through the forest and basking in the sunlight in a patch of wildflowers we found. Though we had hiked through the forest behind the palace many times, it was so large, we were always finding a new spot to explore.
Ella and I decided to spend the evening separate. She hadn’t spoken to her family the whole day and I was still pretty tired from the King’s Test Ball. Just as I settled into my sofa with a book called The Hobbit from the twentieth century, someone knocked at my door.
Sighing, I set my book down and called out for whoever it was to enter. It was the palace Steward. “How can I help you, Steward?”
“Prince George XV of Britainnia is on the holocomm and the King says you need to speak with him because he is busy.”
I frowned. “What does he want me to do about it? He is probably complaining again about the Council’s decision to not go forward with the Foreigners King’s Test.”
The Steward smiled. “The King says it is time for you to handle some of the foreign communications since you will be Crown Princess soon.”
I crushed my eyes closed to defeat the impending headache. “Very well. Patch him through.”
As the Steward left, I walked over to my holostation and waited. I let it beep a few times before answering. Prince George’s face appeared. As I had figured, he looked frustrated, though more put together than he had been the last time he spoke with Father.
“How can I help you, Prince George?”
He looked taken aback and frowned. “I asked to speak with King Aaron. It is a very serious matter,” he said angrily in his thick Britainnian accent.
“I understand that. The King asked that I take the call. He has been in a meeting with our Province Delegate all afternoon and it looks as though it is continuing into the evening. How can I help you?”
He sighed. “I do not think you can. You are only the Princess.”
As stars spun in front of my eyes from my anger, I carefully crafted my next response so I didn’t create a problem between our kingdoms. “If it is not something I can do on my own, chances are, neither could the King.”
“He could not add me to the participant number for the King’s Test?”
And there it is. Seriously. This guy needs to take a hint.
“I am afraid not, Prince George. The Council already voted ‘nay’ on foreigners participating in King’s Test for this generation and it is not a decision he can make unilaterally. Surely, he has explained this all before?”
“Yes, he has,” Prince George said tightly. “I am sure your Council and King would not want to cause an international incident with this.”
I leaned forward. “With all due respect, Prince George, there were ten foreign princes told they were under consideration to participate and only four of you have had a problem with the outcome of the vote. The dirty looks you are giving me, and the fact I have never spoken to you before now, tell me that the loss of your chances with me is not the issue. Might I ask why it is so important to you?”
He pressed his lips together. “It is for your kingdom’s own good. It has been too long since you have had new blood in your Royal and Noble lines.”
I leaned back. “So, you are concerned for our health and well-being? I assure you that while I have to marry someone of Noble blood, the regular Nobility marries whoever they want – and they marry outside the Nobility on a regular basis. Furthermore, while I appreciate your concern, it really is not any of your business.”
“What was your thought on the process?”
“Pardon?”
“How did you feel about foreigners participating in your King’s Test?”
“It does not matter how I feel about any part of the King’s Test, Prince George. I have essentially no say in the process at all.”
“I did not ask if you had a say, I asked what you thought.” He smirked at me, as if he was getting somewhere now.
I sighed. “To be honest, Prince George, the thought of marrying someone outside Arboria’s Nobility did not bother me at all. I think the major obstacle the idea had was that when I was born, the decision of who would participate in the King’s Test was already decided.
“It is a long-held tradition with my people, so the men who are participating have been raised knowing they would. When the idea for foreign participation was presented, there was an uproar. Both the Nobles and Delegates from the provinces who will be represented in the King’s Test would hear nothing of it. There are twenty votes total and that is twelve votes right there. A few more than that twelve voted ‘nay.’ As you can see, our hands are tied.”
There was a pregnant pause in our conversation as we stared each other down. “I trust that I have assuaged any concerns you have and we will not need to discuss this again. Even if the King could have added you in, which I assure you, he cannot, it would be too late. Just last night we had the King’s Test Ball, where the seven participants were introduced to the kingdom and me.”
He nodded. “Very well. I am not happy, nor will my father be, but I wish you luck. May the right man be selected to lead the beautiful kingdom of Arboria.”
“Thank you. Good evening.”
He disconnected the call and I went back over to my seat on the sofa, feeling pretty good about the way I had handled things. Another round of knocking came to my door and I discovered it was the Steward again.
“What is it?” I asked when he came in.
“King Michael of Southland on the holocomm. Well-wishing, it seems.”
“Father is still unavailable?”
“No. This call is for you. You will probably get a few of these calls throughout the evening tonight.”
“Put him through.” I picked up my book and walked over to my holostation, readying myself for a long night of talking to well-wishers and whiners.
~ ~ ~
Just as I was getting comfortable in bed, the holocomm beeped again. I considered ignoring it – I had been on the darn thing all evening – but decided I should probably talk to whatever Royalty was comming. I shuffled my way over to the holostation, sat down, and answered while I was yawning.
“Aw. Did I wake you up?” It was Stephan.
“Uh. No. Just heading to bed.”
This is already awkward after last night. He had to catch me totally unaware.
“Oh. Good. Uh. Listen. Father and Mother want me to spend a little more time at home, so I’m going to be a week late.”
“Oh. That’s too bad. Why?”
Don’t sound so eager.
He grinned. “Like the rest of Arboria, I’m their favorite to win the King’s Test.”
I chuckled. “I see. Well, I guess that’s understandable. I’ll see you in a few days, Stephan.”
“In a few, dear Rose,” he said and disconnected before I could even think a response.
“Dear Rose?”
Part II
Chapter 11
The bright midafternoon summer sun lit my book as I spent the next day in our library. Mother was often telling me to go outside to the field behind the palace, which I had done the whole previous afternoon, but I preferred to spend my time indoors.
Besides, as I always argued, being inside was practically being outside. It was brilliant how our ancestors managed to figure out a way to build everything around the trees. Personally, I didn’t know what the engineering behind it was, but when they had to rebuild everything after the Daze epidemic, they thought of everything.
A simple method of removing and filling of materials in the floors, ceilings, and roofs allowed for the trees to continue to grow. Photosynthesis was still possible because of the complicated system of tubes and holes that brought the rain to the roots and sunshine to the leaves. Despite trying to explain it to me in different ways over the years, Doctor Bartholomew, my tutor, had yet to figure a way to make everything stick. Science was simply not my subject.
Knowing life was about to become very busy for me, I took the time to delve into a history book about the twenty-first century. I’m not sure what it was about the time period before the Daze hit, but it intrigued me, enough that I decided to get my Concentration in it when I became a Master in Arborian History.
The book I was flipping through was about the fashions of the era. It was interesting to me how designers would make ridiculous outfits bordering on costumes for their fashion shows, yet the average person wore nothing like it.
As I turned the page and began laughing at a silly outfit the women actually
wore, I heard the door to the library slide open and an exasperated sigh as the door closed.
“Princess Miriam Petrichoria, I have been looking everywhere for you! What are you doing inside on a lovely day like this?” A lock of my long black hair that I could never keep in place, fell out of my braid as I turned suddenly toward the voice.
“Really, Ella? My full name?” I asked.
“Yes. I’ve been awake for nearly an hour looking everywhere for you. I should have known you would be here reading. What is so interesting this time that you would not be enjoying the sun?”
“I am enjoying the sun,” I defended myself pointing at my book in the sunlight. “Its light is helping me read.”
“You know what I mean, Rose.” Officially, I was supposed to be called “Princess Miriam,” “Your Highness,” or “Miss,” but my close friends and family always called me “Rose.” Ever since I was a child, I have had a borderline obsession with the flower. They were all over my room. I had written a waltz and designed a dance for them. The people had even been calling me the Rose of Petrichoria since I was a child. I wasn’t a big fan of the title, but my people liked it, so I let it stand.
“Yes, yes. We can go outdoors in a bit. You have to see this picture I found of twenty-first century fashion!” I waved off her chastisement for staying indoors, looked back to the book, and held it up for her to view the ridiculous fashion. “See!” I showed her the picture of a woman in pink leopard print tight cotton pants with a short pink dress and white flats.
Ella laughed and her short blonde curls bounced. “That’s atrocious! Honestly, though, Rose, get out of the twenty-first century and rejoin us here in the twenty-third!”
“Alright, alright, alright,” I conceded and stood. On the way out, I set the book on the table next to the door, promising myself I would come back later and put it away.
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