Allerleirauh

by Chantal Gadoury

  “We are more.”

  His words echoed in my ears. I pushed myself up from the bed and discarded the fur cloak. I lifted the icy blue gown from the coverlet and slipped the soft fabric over my skin. The dress was adorned with small white flower blossoms starting at the collar and descending down into the body of the dress.

  I coiled my hair into a tight braid and let it fall across my shoulder. As I turned at the sound of my door opening, I saw Adelais look at me with concern and agitation. I let out a sigh as I adjusted a bit of the dress.

  “I’m almost ready,” I said curtly. “Just a minute more.”

  “I know this must be hard,” she said, and bit her lip. I was surprised to hear her words and remained silent as I tucked a fold of my gown into place.

  “The prince is a good man,” Adelais continued. “We have all seen the way he looks at you. We all know what is truly in his heart.”

  “But that’s not enough, is it? It is never enough to concede to what is simply in your heart when you are royalty. There will always be a sense of duty lurking around the corner in spite of one’s happiness,” I murmured. “It’s not fair to him, or to any person with great responsibility.”

  Adelais shut the door gently and came to stand behind me, her fingers fumbling with one of the strings on the back of the gown.

  “There is no use in hiding your grief, milady. We all feel it in our lives. Some more than others. I know a broken heart when I see one and I know you’ve been through quite a bit,” Adelais sighed as her hands moved to my arms. “You must be strong for the Prince and yourself. Nothing is final until he is in the chapel saying the words. The prince has the final say over his destiny, he just needs to believe it.”

  “I am nothing, and I bring nothing,” I began. Adelais clicked her tongue with a harsh glare as she turned me to face her.

  “Do not say that. You bring something. You have brought a special sort of joy to the prince. A joy that has not existed since his mother died. Perhaps now, with so many voices in his ear, he feels trapped in this choice, but he is the future König of Saarland and while it comes with obligations to his kingdom, he does have an obligation to his heart.”

  “Perhaps, but Klaus does not see . . .”

  “I think perhaps it is you who does not see the opportunity at hand. The prince doesn’t wish to marry this girl. Go to him, for he cares about you . . . Speak with him. Remedy the situation before it’s too late. Remedy it before he cannot take back his promise.”

  It felt strange to hear such bold words from Adelais. She was the last person I had ever expected to hear such advice from. With a small hesitant nod, I agreed. It was foolish of me to turn him away. I could only run away from my pain—from my memories—for so long. Myriah would want me to do this. Both Klaus and I deserved happiness.

  It did not take Adelais long to pull me through the palace corridors until we reached the quiet dining room. Klaus sat there, quietly staring at a butter knife in his hand. He was twirling it round and round. Adelais cleared her throat and pushed me into the room, just as Klaus looked up. His soft green eyes were surprised upon seeing my face and then relaxed.

  “Guten Morgen,” he greeted softly. I could see the dark circles under his eyes, as I was sure mine reflected the same. I did not speak, instead only gave a small nod as a reply. I felt Adelais brush beside me with a small tray of food and pinch my elbow. I jumped a bit, glaring at her. She didn’t have to be so pushy.

  “Good morning, Your Highness,” I murmured reluctantly. I watched Klaus’s features wince, but he remained silent to my formal greeting.

  “Is there anything you’d like this morning?” he asked, and I shook my head as I took a seat across from him.

  “No. I’m not quite hungry.”

  “As it seems, neither am I,” he replied curtly. His eyes locked with mine, reflecting a deep, known sadness. I could feel my heart racing wildly in my chest and I quickly looked away.

  “I understand Lord Crestwood is to arrive this morning?” I asked, lifting my goblet to take a small sip of the wine the servants poured. He gave a careless shrug.

  “He sent word earlier this morning. They should be here before our mid-day meal. The staff have already begun preparations for this evening’s entertainments. We’re to expect many guests in the evening.”

  “I see,” I replied, lowering my goblet to the table. I wondered if there would be any guests familiar to Tränen and my father – and ultimately, me.

  “I wish to speak to you about last night,” Klaus began. “We need to speak about it. I will not endure a day of silence like this. Not with Lord Crestwood and . . .”

  His voice faded as his eyes stared into mine again. I knew the words he didn’t want to say. He would not tolerate silence between us before his new bride arrived. I waited in the quietness as I bit my bottom lip. Should I be the first to speak? Should I admit my feelings? Should I . . .?

  “Lord Crestwood is here, Your Highness,” a servant announced breathlessly as they dashed into the doorway behind me. Klaus closed his eyes and let out a sigh as he shook his head.

  “Yes, danke,” he murmured to the servant. When he opened his eyes again, I found emerald anguish and regret. He rose from his chair wordlessly and nodded respectfully to me.

  “Do you wish to join me outside, or do you wish to—”

  “I’ll remain here,” I said softly. Clearing my throat before he turned away, I murmured, “I worry for your heart, Klaus.”

  His name rolled softly from my lips. I saw his green eyes dart to me for a moment.

  “My heart is strong as is yours,” he replied softly. I could feel a chill run down my spine as he pulled away, leaving me to feel empty . . . alone. In a few moments, I knew everything would be different. I watched Klaus walk away until he turned the corner and disappeared from view.

  I blinked back the stinging promise of tears. I would not cry. Not here . . . not now.

  I waited, keeping still in my chair as I heard the gathering of voices echo from the front hall of the castle. With a deep sigh, I pushed myself up from the table and walked to the door. I wanted to go somewhere – anywhere, far away from the palace and the gathering of the guests. I wanted to avoid ever meeting the Princess of Foix de Lille. I imagined she was perfectly beautiful and poised. Her cheeks would have a soft hue of warmth and her laugh would sound like a gentle ringing of a bell. In my mind, the princess would be everything I was not; everything I could never be. I leaned against the door and listened to the distant voices, trying my best to make out all the greetings. I could hear Lord Crestwood making rounds of introductions, but it seemed to be more than just a princess.

  Curiously, I stepped out into the hallway and began to round the corner, not wanting to be seen by any of Klaus’s guests. As I meandered closer to the doors of the front room, the collection of voices grew louder. How many household members had come with the princess? A strange, familiar voice began to speak, though I couldn’t make out what they were saying. A shudder ran down the length of my spine as I approached the doors and pressed against the wall to listen. I knew that voice.

  “. . .the princess ran away, at the cost of the entire castle burning to the ground. The König is lucky to be alive.”

  My hands began to tremble as I curled them into the fabric of my skirts.

  They weren’t talking about Foix de Lille. The König is alive . . .

  I moved carefully, peeking into the room to see Lord Haven standing in front of Klaus and Lord Crestwood. All of the blood drained from my face, and my fingers turned to ice. A beautiful woman stood on the other side of Klaus; her curled chestnut hair fell over her shoulders flawlessly. Her gown was a soft yellow and the rubies around her neck were large and set in gold.

  “Indeed,” Prince Klaus said as he nodded in the direction of Lord Haven. “I am glad to know the König is well after such an ordeal.”

  “He was grateful to accept Lord Crestwood’s invitation to come to Saarland der Licht, to w
itness the joyous celebration of your union with the Princess Margrit. She has been quite the hostess to us since we took refuge within the walls of Foix de Lille,” Lord Haven murmured and turned his own gaze to someone by his side.

  I tried to see past those who were in the way, but I could hardly make out the person beside him.

  “We are grateful to your new bride, Prince Klaus,” another voice said. My heart plunged into my stomach as the voice rang in my ears. ‘I will find you.’

  I moved away from the door and pressed my back against the wall. Everything around me was spinning and I knew I was about to become ill. I closed my eyes as I tried to calm my breathing.

  My father . . .my father was alive.

  I was haunted again by his sickly hands upon my body; his lips on my neck and shoulders. The terrifying moment of his body above mine, taking what he thought should have been his. I could not erase his taunting smile as he presented his gifts to me or his voice promising our marriage following in the morning’s light.

  “Aurelia, are you alright? Shall I take you back to your room?” Adelais’s voice startled me. I looked at her with wide eyes as I shook my head vigorously. I could not take the chance of being discovered.

  “No,” I breathed and continued to shake my head.

  She wrinkled her nose and peered into the doorway. The group hadn’t noticed the disturbance.

  “I . . . I’m alright,” I managed. “I just wanted to get a peek.”

  Adelais eyed me for a moment more before she slowly began to nod. By her wrinkled brow, I wasn’t sure she had entirely accepted my clumsy explanation. But she did not persist. Adelais turned on her heel and strolled back down the hallway, towards the kitchen to ready for the ball.

  “As you can see, the König was nearly burned to death . . .” Lord Haven continued, his voice weaving through the doorway. “Quite a number of guards and maids were killed in the palace. It’s been rumored the princess even killed a guard herself.”

  “I’d be curious as to know the reason why the princess felt such a desperate need to leave,” Klaus replied curtly. I pressed a hand to my lips. Myriah was gone. The guard had died because of me. Everything that happened that night truly was because of me. As I comprehended the truth of the news, my entire body began to tremble; tremble from fear, from rage, from utter devastation.

  “The König is also determined to bring his child back home,” Lord Haven retorted.

  “At what cost?” Klaus replied. “She would be a fool to return.”

  Lord Crestwood’s uneasy laugh filled the space as he tried to ease the chilled tension between everyone.

  “Let us go to the gardens! The gardens, I assure you, will be some of the most beautiful you’ve ever seen.”

  His voice was hasty as he tried to guide the group back out into the sunlight. I peeked around the door again, watching as Lord Haven guided my father—a man adorned with a red and gold-threaded tunic—lumber out through the doors. The princess turned to look at Klaus with a shy smile as she held out her hand to him.

  “It would be a pleasure, Your Highness,” she said with a giggle. “I can’t wait to see the rest of Saarland der Licht. It’s beautiful here.”

  “Yes,” Klaus replied solemnly. “Indeed, it is.”

  His voice was full of a quiet misery. I could see his despondency as he took her hand and followed her out through the door. Lord Crestwood waited for a moment, until everyone had gone out to the gardens and turned on his heel, his dismal green eyes catching mine.

  “Princess,” he murmured quickly and walked to the door.

  “My father . . . alive,” I whispered as I peered up at him, every part of me trembling. He nodded and let out a drained sigh.

  “Indeed, I meant to write to you, but I didn’t know how to tell you. There was much to attend to before we departed. When I arrived at Foix de Lille, he was there. He believes if we can conjoin kingdoms and work out a treaty, we might be able to salvage what was left of the old Königreich of Tränen and unite the lands. We could make an even more powerful alliance than we had before.”

  My stomach twisted as I pressed a hand to my lips. I turned away and shook my head. This could not be occurring. My father simply could not be here, in Saarland der Licht. I could feel his hot breath against my neck. The sharp sound of his hand slapping across Myriah’s cheek filled my ears. Now that he was in such close proximity, my memories felt far more overwhelming than before.

  “Princess?” Lord Crestwood looked at me concerned as his hand brushed against my back. I jumped as I took a step away from him.

  “I think . . . I think perhaps I should take the time to stay away,” I murmured softly. “Please do not tell Lord Haven or my father of my presence here.”

  “Of course not, Your Highness,” he said with a bow. “I swear to you; I will keep your secret.”

  As I stood in front of him, I quickly tried to decide my next step. I knew I needed to get away and be alone. I needed time to think. The cottage was too far away to hide away to, and I could hardly leave the castle without acknowledging Klaus of my departure first, without ultimately notifying Lord Haven or my father of my company.

  “Danke…” I replied to Lord Crestwood and gave a small nod to him before I turned on my heel. Leaving the corridor swiftly, I began to walk towards the library, knowing it was the one place Klaus considered his own safe haven; just as it once was for me in Tränen. I hadn’t noticed that Lord Crestwood followed me to the door until I lifted my hand to the doorknob. It felt odd knowing Klaus and I had just been in the room the day before; the time spent then had been just for us – just for that moment. I was not the same girl who first graced this room what seemed months ago. Time seemingly became an untraceable thing in Saarland der Licht.

  “I know the truth, princess,” Lord Crestwood said softly as guided us into the safety of the library and took a seat in the chair near the fireplace. I took the chair adjacent to his.

  The sting of tears was easy to fight away as I stared down at my hands in my lap. I hardly believed Lord Crestwood knew the entire truth; there were things even my father wouldn’t admit aloud.

  “The truth?” I asked, raising my brow curiously.

  “Yes, the truth,” Lord Crestwood repeated sternly. “I heard many versions of the tale during my time in Foix de Lille. I knew before I left that he . . . your father . . . proposed marriage to you. But I know now there is much more to this story.”

  I bit down on my bottom lip until I tasted the tang of my own blood.

  “I’m not quite sure I understand what you’re implying,” I said softly, lifting my chin. I didn’t want anyone to know the truth, least of all Lord Crestwood.

  “I apologize, princess. I know this is a . . . delicate conversation,” he replied as he lifted his hand to speak with. “But I wanted you to know that . . . I will do my best to keep you far from the König.”

  “I honestly think it would be best if I were just to leave. The prince has his bride, and I will no longer have a place here once he’s married.”

  “You’ll not fare as well outside the walls of Saarland. At least here you have security,” he replied. “Friends.”

  “I cannot encroach on the prince and his life any longer—not with his new bride here . . .”

  “I’ve heard a bit from Adelais on what occurred while I was away. It would seem the Princess of Foix de Lille is the one encroaching. Not you.”

  “It doesn’t matter now,” I said with a shrug of my shoulders. I would never be what Saarland der Licht or the prince needed.

  “Doesn’t it?”

  Lord Crestwood leaned back in the chair and smiled gently. “I think it does. If what Adelais says is true, I think Klaus loves you. And from where I sit, I see that you love him too.”

  His words weighed on me heavily. I did love the prince. Despite all the pain and misfortune I had endured at the hands of my father, I found myself quite in love with Klaus. Was it so easily seen? Did Klaus know of my feeli
ngs too? I slowly rose from my chair and moved to rest my hand against the mantel.

  “If you know the truth, then you know I could never marry the prince.”

  “We both know the prince to be quite unlike other men,” he said, lifting his brows curiously at me. “He certainly gives no regards to traditions and rules. And the loss of your. . . is no fault of yours,”

  “I lied to him,” I said, shaking my head. “I don’t deserve his forgiveness or his mercy. You heard Lord Haven. I killed a guard. I killed countless members of the household. I even . . .” The words were almost unmanageable to say aloud. “Myriah, my maid. She was like a mother to me . . .”

  “You should not carry the blame alone, Aurelia. Your father had everything to do with your disappearance.”

  “I just tried to give myself time to run away,” I explained softly as I began to retrace the memories. I recounted the images, whispering them aloud to Lord Crestwood. The many gifts and the diadem. The night of the ball. The note instructing me to come to my father’s room where he . . . Asking for gifts I thought would be impossible to obtain. And finally, the night of my escape. Keeping my gaze fixed to the flames, I shivered as I reached the end of the tale.

  “I ran as fast as I could through the forest,” I whispered, feeling a steady stream of hot tears roll down my cheeks. “I recalled you speaking of Saarland der Licht, and Myriah had told me to go there for safety. I never imagined I’d ever see you or the prince on that road . . .”

  I slowly turned to see Lord Crestwood’s wide eyes locked upon me. His eyes were full of a gentle, regretful sadness.

  “I wish I had known . . .” he managed to say as he rubbed his palms against his knees.