Monarchy

by Erasmus, Nicola

“So, Princess Guinevere,” the Countess addressed her, “you must have the greatest stories to tell about your trip. I can’t wait to hear.”

  “It was nothing less than educational” Gwen answered.

  “Where were you? All over I imagine.”

  “Well, I started in Amsterdam…”

  “Oh, I just love Amsterdam. Rode my first bicycle there” the Lady interrupted.

  “I loved the red light district myself…” there were gasps even at the table next to them. “…not for the drugs and the brothels as you may think. It has a pulsating energy that is just amazing, I spent a few weeks there and was planning on visiting Rome, Britain and maybe France after that but then I met a group of students who were backpacking around the world and everything just escalated from there. I spent a year in Israel working on a kibbutz. The food is awful but the experience incredible. Then I decided to spend some time in Nepal, studying Buddhism. That’s where I got this awful haircut I fell in love with. I got a job as a Sherpa but that didn’t last long. I got my first group lost and we all got hypothermia and had to be rescued by helicopter from Everest. It was one of the worst months of my life. So I kicked back in Thailand for a while. I was on my way to the Americas when a tsunami struck. I lost a lot of friends that day and ended up staying to help pick up the pieces. I won’t even rate those two years on any scale for I won’t do it justice. To see a nation lifting itself from the ashes…you can’t understand unless you’ve experienced it for yourself” Gwen paused to take a sip of whiskey. A small crowd had formed around their table, all listening intently to her story.

  “And then I somehow, one night, after one hell of a party, I ended up joining Greenpeace. No seriously. I woke up the next morning on a ship halfway to the Arctic filled with neo-hippies and vegans. Okay, they weren’t that bad and after my hangover had passed I spent a year traveling the world with them, learning more about environmentalism and such. I actually threw a bucket of paint at an oil rig and then got “shot” from a crane by a water cannon. Broke my leg in two places and ended up back in Amsterdam for three months. So, I decided to get back to my original plan and traveled to Rome, went to the Vatican, had tea with some other blue bloods like ourselves in Britain and climbed the Eiffel Tower in France. There I met a group of underprivileged children from Tanzania. I donated some money to their cause and got invited to stay with them for a while, if I liked to. So, I bought a ticket and went. I loved the African wild life. And the sunsets. The most beautiful I’ve ever seen. You just can’t paint a picture of that. You won’t comprehend what exactly the golden dust does to the sky there after a long hot day. I tried climbing Kilimanjaro but my leg just wasn’t well enough yet. I ran into some of my Greenpeace buddies and traveled with them to South Africa. ‘The world in one country’ they call it, and they’re not lying. They have everything. Rich cultures, vibrant colors everywhere. Ah, I made some great memories there and finally got my chance to stand on top of a mountain. I cheated, took the cable car to the top of Table Mountain…” she took another swig of her glass. The whole party was hanging on her lips now.

  “I took part in a thrilling yacht race from there, which took me all the way to Rio, Brazil. The best New Year’s party ever, then again, almost every day is a party there and before I knew it, it was June and I received a very troubling call from my father urging me to come home. And here I am.”

  There was a shocked silence. The music had stopped playing and every ear was tuned in on Gwen.

  “My, that’s quite a trip” the Countess found her voice at last.

  “And I’ll still be on it was it not for my mother’s health.”

  Elsie bumped her in the ribs and whispered: “They don’t know about it.”

  “But I’ve had enough of my own voice for one night. If you would excuse me, I am going to stretch my legs a bit. Care to join me, Princess.” Gwen got up and dragged Elsie with, leaving their parents in an awkward situation.

  “I have to know, everything there is, about what I’ve missed and what I need and need not know. Now.” she whispered urgently to Elsie as soon as they were out of earshot.

  “Well, I think you’ve talked yourself into most of them this evening already, but there’s one more thing you have to be prepared for. Four years ago, father appointed an advisor…”

  Chapter 6

  Dame Margaret was a short but statuesque woman that came from a very long line of nobles. She knew everything there was about royal laws and etiquette and was the perfect candidate for the job when the King decided to appoint somebody to brush up the monarch’s image. Her advice meant well in the beginning but as time progressed and she won over the King’s trust, her “advice” became the more absurd. From denying Elsie access to the Internet to insisting that the King wear his full attire whenever outdoors, no decision was to be made without her consent when it came to the royal family.

  But even the King’s right hand needed a vacation and what happened in her absence couldn’t have come at a worse time. First, the Queen was diagnosed with cancer and then the long lost princess returned. The dame stepped from the car in quick fashion and ascended the palace steps with the morning papers clutched beneath her arm. On one tabloid, an unflattering photo of Gwen spread across the front page with the headline: “Look what the royal cat dragged in.”

  “Dame Margaret” Sir Windsbury greeted her as he opened the door.

  “Have the King meet me in his office immediately and arrange us some tea. We have urgent damage control to do after the weekend’s disaster” she said as she stuffed her jacket and gloves into his arms.

  “I’m sorry ma’am, but the King is spending breakfast with his family this morning and has requested not to be disturbed.”

  “He doesn’t want to be disturbed…? Are they having breakfast in the dining room?” she asked agitated.

  “They're in the garden.”

  The dame turned and headed through the living room to the garden. The royal family was sitting in a clearing around a small iron table sharing a light moment.

  “Who knew the Dalai Lama had such a keen sense of humor? Ah, Dame Margaret, what a pleasant surprise. How was Scotland?” the King said with lingering laughter in his voice.

  “Too humid, Your Majesty. I’m all too glad to be home. Your Majesty, Your Highness.” She greeted the Queen and Elsie but looked at Gwen like she was a dirty spot. Dressed in a pair of faded jeans and an oversized shirt she stood strong in contrast with the semi-formal outfits of the rest of her family.

  “Good morning, Dame Margaret. Please, let me introduce you to our eldest daughter…” the Queen said cheerfully.

  “Princess Guinevere” the dame said with disgust.

  “Margaret. I’ve heard so much about you it feels like you could be my best friend” Gwen said not looking up.

  “It’s Dame Margaret and my relationship to this family is strictly professional. So, treat me as you would your most senior staff.”

  “I’m sorry. Dame Margaret, please fetch me some coffee” Gwen said sarcastically.

  The dame threw her nose in the air and whipped the newspapers from under her arm and slammed it in front of the King. “The royal family is the talk of the town this morning,” she continued, “and for all the wrong reasons.”

  The King gestured for the lady to sit down in an empty chair next to Elsie as he picked up the tabloid first and sighed before handing it to Gwen with a disappointed shake of his head.

  “First there was that disastrous outfit hardly fit for a princess, then there’s the rumor of her involvement in a terrorist movement that sunk an oil carrier off the coast of Japan and lastly, one columnist asks, that we come clean about the Queen’s condition and immediately reveal our future plans for the monarchy.”

  “I went a bit overboard with the dye there, didn’t I?” Gwen said still examining the photo.

  “I’ve already had dismissal letters drawn up for the princesses’ stylist and their assistant.”

  “What?�
� Elsie cried. “You can’t fire Grace.”

  “Dame Margaret, the stylist and Grace had nothing to do with this. The entire creation was the princess’ doing, wasn’t it?” the Queen asked Gwen.

  “Oh, yeah, I’m absolutely taking all the credit for this. The original dress just looked too much like a toilet paper cozy. This on the other hand showed off my athletic calves and my awesome Brazilian tan.” Gwen showed the Queen the picture, pouting her lips.

  “That’s enough, Guinevere” the King scolded.

  “Forgive me, Your Majesty, but I have made it clear many times in the past that the princesses do not leave the palace without a proper inspection from their assistant. We have an image to uphold.”

  “Is she being serious?” Gwen asked the King. “Elsie, cover your ears.”

  “I said that’s enough, Gwen” the King raised his voice, the compassion of earlier long gone now. “We should continue this conversation in my office, Dame Margaret. I just have private matter to discuss with the Queen, and then I’ll meet you there in, let’s say twenty minutes. Please excuse us.” The King and Queen got up and walk off into the garden.

  “Well, I’m off to the library. Care to join me?” Elsie invited her sister. Both Gwen and Dame Margaret looked like they were about to kill each other.

  “I just want to finish my coffee then I’ll come.”

  Elsie didn’t want to leave the two of them alone in case they started fighting. Gwen was still unpredictable and she didn’t know whether her time in Nepal might have included ninja assassination training. She loathed the dame just as much as everyone else did but a murder in the palace garden would definitely not be good for their image.

  “You think you can waltz in here, throw around your title and take over the throne? You know nothing about being a princess. I’ll squash you like bug.” Elsie was shocked to hear Dame Margaret threaten Gwen like that.

  Gwen gently put her cup on the table and turned to the lady before whispering: “And I’ll snap you like an old flyswatter. What was it now? Queen? Princess? Oh, I remember. Dame Margaret.” Gwen deliberately knocked over her cup as she got up, spilling coffee over the tabloid magazine.

  Chapter 7

  The King managed to convince Dame Margaret to only give Grace and the stylist a written warning. No word was further uttered about the rest of the conversation that took place in the office that morning and Elsie could see that being left in the dark about topics that concerned them all did not please Gwen. By dinner the casualness of breakfast had returned. The King even traded his usual black shoes for his comfortable bright red slippers.

  “Where’s John?” Gwen asked after their meal.

  “It’s Sir Windsbury’s night off” the Queen informed her. “A knight needs some time to pursue damsels in distress.”

  “Now, who will pour me my night cap?” she said and got up.

  “I didn’t excuse you, Gwen” the King reprimanded her.

  “I’ll be back in a sec” she called over her shoulder and disappeared out the dining room.

  “You can keep on trying but I doubt you’ll tame her” the Queen said to the King who had a sour look upon his face.

  “Look at her. She’s intentionally doing it” he said softly. “Going against everything we stand for.”

  “Maybe it’s because she stands for everything she believes in?” The Queen smiled at the King.

  Gwen returned with the King’s Scotch and two glasses in hand. “I didn’t know if you’re up for one, Mother and sorry, Elsie, you’re too young.”

  “No, thank you, but I would like a cup of tea. Elsie?”

  “Yes, please.”

  “So, Father, it’s just you and me then. I saw Margaret brought you this from Scotland and what better way than to test it for poison than sharing” Gwen said with a wink.

  The King winced a little and laughed. “Just one shouldn’t hurt.”

  Gwen poured for them while a maid entered with a pot of steaming tea for Elsie and the Queen.

  When everybody had a drink in hand Gwen proposed a toast. “To that which really matters.”

  “And same goes for the those, I assume?” the King said and took a sip. “Dame Margaret told me about your altercation after I left. ‘An old flyswatter’?”

  “She called Gwen…” Elsie started but Gwen shook her head.

  “You really have a knack for hitting it off on the wrong foot, don’t you?” the King asked rhetorically.

  “Love me or leave me.” Gwen said with a shrug. “Honestly, I don’t like her much and last time I checked nobody could force me to embrace her presence.”

  “Dame Margaret has done a lot for our family the last few years. I value her opinion.” the King took a bigger sip this time.

  “Well, I don’t trust her opinion at all. She seems like the type of person who is more interested in personal power and gain than the well-being of her employer. You are her employer, aren’t you? Because for a moment this morning I could have sworn she was yours.” Gwen emptied her glass all at once.

  “I don’t like your tone, Guinevere” the King said angrily. “I think we should end this evening on a high note. Goodnight” he said and left the dining room.

  “Yeah, the conversation is heading for a downhill. I’m off to bed. Night guys” Gwen said and followed the King in silence.

  Elsie looked up at her mother who was staring down at the table, her tea untouched.

  “Mother?” Elsie touched her mother’s hand and she looked as though she had been ripped from a faraway place.

  “My dear Elsie” she smiled sadly and sighed. “When Gwen was born the law had just been passed granting the daughters of royalty the same rights as the sons. Our first born wasn’t going to be a King but a Queen. I had to give her a name that would one day be synonymous with a great leader. I was half way through reading King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table and I just knew I had to name her Guinevere. I had great dreams for her. She was to be the beginning of a new era. And then Guinevere betrayed Arthur with Lancelot…” the Queen’s voice broke and she started to cry.

  “Mother, surely her name doesn’t have anything to do with this.” Elsie touched her mother’s face, wiping away the tears.

  “No, but I do. I pushed her too hard, Elsie. I treated her like a Queen even before she could sit up by herself. She never wanted it but played along until she didn’t have to anymore and when she left I did the same to you. Now, standing at the side of my deathbed…”

  “Don’t say that…” Elsie interrupted but the Queen continued.

  “…I have a tired husband, one rebellious daughter with no aspiration of becoming Queen and another much too young to stand in for her. I’m sorry Elsie, but only a miracle could save us and though you might think that my wish is for some miraculous cure it isn’t. My wish is that by some divine intervention, Gwen would wake up tomorrow morning ready to do her duty within a seconds notice and that she’ll have her father’s blessing and support to do so.”

  “Gwen will make sure the King doesn’t retire…”

  “I want her to be Queen. No offense to you but you’re my little princess. I need you to remain in the fairytale but away from the round table and as far as possible from Lancelot.” The Queen was rambling in circles now that Elsie didn’t understand.

  “You need to get some rest mother. Can I help you to your room?” Elsie offered.

  “No, I’ll be fine” the Queen sighed. “Goodnight Elsie.”

  Elsie felt overtired when she finally climbed into bed. It felt warm and she was about to doze off when a whisper disturbed her.

  “Scoot over.” Gwen bumped Elsie as she got into bed next to her.

  “Gwen? What the hell?” Elsie asked irritated.

  “I can’t sleep.”

  “Well, I can. I’m tired.”

  Elsie’s sleep was gone for good now and in silence they laid mulling over the day’s events.

  “Why didn’t you tell father about Dame Margaret’s
threat?” Elsie asked.

  “What would he have done? Anyway, I’m not a snitch.”

  “You shouldn’t take her lightly. She has a huge influence over father and can really make your life hell, you know.”

  “Exactly. I need to get rid of her.”

  Elsie laughed. “I hope you’re not talking about hiring a hit man.”

  “Too messy. Don’t worry, I’m working on a plan.”

  They lay lost in thought again. Elsie could feel her eyelids growing heavy when Gwen spoke again. “Let’s go out.”

  “To the garden?” Elsie asked confused.

  “No, stupid. OUT out.” Gwen got up and pulled the covers off Elsie. “Get your but out of bed, dig out your pair of jeans I know has been dying for some fresh air and let’s go.”